Saruman

The Istari ("those who know"), who some call wizards, are emissaries from the Valar, sent to aid Men and Elves in their struggle against Sauron. They appear to be old Men, but that is deceiving. Initially some thought them to be Elves due to their longevity and wisdom. For that reason the one the Eldar call Mithrandir is known as Gandalf ("Wand-elf") by Men in the northwest of Middle-earth.

Then did we do as so it was as was to be done and did ride from Edoras with the host of the Rohirrim.  Mighty and glorious was the host as they rode forth to war, to fell deeds, and to the defence of Gondor!  Shining was our steel in the shiny sun, and our banners rippled in the wind when the wind blew, which was sometimes, and even as we went did we

~Eregiel's Dream~

'Despite all warnings we have ridden to Isengard, nésa,' said Calentauriel. 'For what purpose?'

'Closure, nésa,' Eregiel answered. 'I want to see for myself that Isengard is truly overthrown. Thenafter shall my mind find peace.'

'You will receive no argument from me, nésa,' her sister replied.

The man stopped, standing still, not unlike a statue, as if some sort of spell had just frozen him. He narrowed his eyes as he recognized what was before him, the beast that had already defeated him once: a Warg, as big as a horse and black as the night. It could be any black Warg, especially since the last time it was in the Lone-Lands, miles away... but Ildrand knew it was that Warg. The same size, the same growl, the same eyes.

Today I walked to my mailbox again. I really hoped that I got a mail today. It is now nearly 4 weeks at least ago that I heard anything of the Red company and their journey. I remembered their departure here very well. I was going to stay here, but the first few days I have made with them. We all gathered by the southern gate, the most logical place for a journey south.  When we were all gathered, Adilyr led us a few hundred meters from the town. There Arstelle led the company away to the destination.

Here I sit again in Imladris, my Lady sat not far from me.. glancing at her.. while she reads and writes.. the beauty she has is the reason poetry and song was formed.. to help describe in words what cannot be seen by the eye.. it is easy to find solice and contentment here in Imladris.. but as time presses ever onwards.. the call to step out again draws near..