challenge

It was a cruel night – dark and cold, empty of emotion yet corrupted, and it stabbed Nenusidh’s warm heart like a knife. The land was giving the ranger a message – a rather bitter message at that, that there cannot be mercy. The moon was neither bold nor strong enough to best the cruel skies, and the stars were too few and much covered. The land was covered in darkness, yet despite so, there was a fragment of light within the ranger.

Sparring in Rivendell. Ráolor wearing a blindfold

"Again!"

At last, there was no need to sit in front of that blasted bonfire anymore! However, the leave was not a...victorious one, in Undómion's view. How he felt, he felt humiliated yet again; worthless...pathetic. The simple pleasures that still could be found on this side of the sea were heightened greatly, Veryathoron's familiar presence was one of the greatest...hearing and smelling things other than burning and smoke.

The stories are never enough.

No matter how famous people are, their skill can be only verified and experienced in a personal encounter.

Leaving Undomion in front of the bonfire, he went through the entrance hall and stepped outside. He felt his blood boiling in his veins, and making a fist, he forced the burning rage downwards, preventing it from rising up into his head.