Curugirion

Deep in the woods I sat down by a large spruce tree. I looked up and I saw the hasty red clouds covering the moon. I needed some time on my own to find out why this place felt so alluring to me. I kept looking north, the strange visions I had earlier with shadows whispering did not want to let me rest. I still saw the shimmer from the campfire where the Flower's and Sulaer were camping for the night. I did not want to go far, but I had this strange feel and my awareness felt so clear. I felt I could see and hear beyond the present, beyond this moment.

Three days had passed and Hirgonui Curugirion gave us the news that there was as of yet no words from Culir, it worried me greatly that he had not heard anything from him. Hirgonui reassured me that there was nothing to worry about, he told me I should have faith in him, but most importantly he told me that I should believe in myself. I did not quite understand that sentiment. Surely it could be that if I were more confident I would view others the same way. I looked at Istuir and decided not to debate this.

I stand upon a hill, overlooking the river Lhûn. Down below, within its swirling waters, a number of ships carrying the banners of Loth-i-Lonnath waving in the wind, lies anchored at the docks of Thamas Lorn; and like great white swans they ride the streams, only awaiting the moment to spread their wings and take flight towards the north. For that is where the herth is going, to meet dangers unknown, but this time, I'm not going with them.

A few days later, my companions and I were entering Thamas Lorn again. I was lost in deep thoughts and this deep anger was filling my heart. I was so disappointed, angry, in rage and I could not really appear either serious or in calm manner. I was in disbelief held outside a meeting where they decide what our next move would be. The banner officers and commander Istuir decided the next immediate course of action without me. I am sure this was based on the private talk I had with Istuir by the Hoarwell river at Last bridge.

I could hear the sound of sparing, swords being parried and coming together, faint whistles of the arrows hitting make shift targets. Our banners were preparing, Preparing for the worst. We hoped that our suspicions were wrong, we hoped that for once our insight would not be correct. Unfortunately we often were right in our conclusions. That's why we were heading towards Lone-lands with four banners, fifty wardens and fifty Ethiriath in total, we could not be too careful. Something in the air also told us something was stirring far north. Was it the smell? The silence?

It was one of those rainy days, when I returned to Thamas Lorn with my report. Such a strange way to greet my home, my home, which is known for the most beautiful sunset in Middle Earth. Not even here things seemed to be normal. Although I was glad to see our Halls in the misty fog that cloaked the walls. My arrows were covered in blood, black raven blood. It made me think about that afternoon when I saw a cloud of black raven hasting above the barren lands of Lone-lands.

Dear Hirgonui.

As the seasons change so does the Mithdirith, or rather adapt. My Dear friend's Hir Curugirion and Hir Aearandir have been away for a good while now, important work in Mithlond at the behest of Lord Cirdan. I can only hope they are both well for I know this time for them both is difficult with all they must do.