duncadda

Ealfin paced around at the stable of Aldburg, his legs restless and his mind the same, for the arrival of our mutual friend Cwendur and his horse Fale had put us both on edge. We had a mission to complete, on direct order by lord Tiubar. A large shipment of undisclosed worth and size was to be transported from Floodwend to Grimslade. A tall order and a lengthy journey at the best of times, while not escorting heavy work-horses towing slow carts behind them.

((This is another point of view, from the NPC named O, I role played in a small event regarding the life of Wealden and Yllfas characters. This is a story from another point of view from Oaths upon oaths.))

We had all made our way to the small village of Middlemead, not too far from our farm - the home that we all missed. The grey ominous clouds in the distance were like a blanket of discomfort upon all of our minds, even though we knew it was safe now: or as safe as one could make it, during the circumstances.

One.. two... and step back… one.. two... and step back… trying to increase the speed... one, two and I’m out of balance again... stumbling back, instead of the single steady step required. It is hard to practice the basic counter maneuver I learned all those years ago, with the left arm in a sling and broken ribs not fully healed. The throbbing headache is not helping either.

At the sound of elvish, I paused. I did not know what the words meant, but oh, I knew that sound. 

Standing beside me, Waelden looked down at his friend. “What was that? Gibberish, delusions?”

"Waelden! Come over here, quickly!" I cried, with a mixture of horror and relief. Relief that the answer to the mystery, the cause of so much death to the orcs was solved; horror at the terrible wounds the man bore. My shoulders sagged in near despair as I sank to my knees on the grass beside him. 

My armguards felt stiff in the still chilly morning of Faldham, the leather was dry and in dire need of oil and grease. Summer had lovingly laid its warm arms around us all, but before the sun had risen, there was still a cold sensation that lingered in the air for some time while the sun still struggled to spread its warmth. I looked to my companion Yllfa who stood by my side, her hair a glittering gold in the morning light, and her attire fit and ready for the expedition ahead.

The following is a brief summary of some of the events that transpired between the kinships of Durin's Folk and Men of the Mark in recent times, as seen and chronicled from the perspective of Rohan and its people.<