Dwarves

This entry was written by Kharsi.

Orc-Watch does not wake, nor does it sleep. There are always dwarves guarding every possible path and watching the darkness below. There is always someone sitting by the campfire, sharing stories in quiet whispers. There is always a boiling cauldron hanging above the fire, and a dwarf that is tending to it. The only change here seems to be us.

To Rûndis, my moonlight,

I am growing weary of this place. The darkness gnaws at my soul, and the constant watch drains my spirits. I had not realised how much this place was affecting me until we reached the great mirror of Jazârgund, and I bathed in its light.

It was just as I was pondering these thoughts that Eldanith arrived. Garfi was the first to notice her presence.

“Good morning, Strongheart, Garfi” the elf greeted.

“Ah! Eldanith! Good morning” I responded. “Apologies, I was lost in thought.”

Beannaithe the Dwarf Lass

'Good evenin', me wee darlin's. Are ye ready to hear more of Beannaithe's tale?' I asked me grandchildren not long before their bedtime.

'Aye,' said Diolun.

OOC - Author's Note:

This is a two-part story, with both parts now available below. Use the quicklinks to jump to each part. Other characters used with their author's permission. Part of the chronicle: "Where Webs Whisper".

It rained a little, of course. How could it not rain on them? But they kept up a good pace over the farm and grasslands of Annundir, into the gently rolling hills of the West. It was a trail Yrill had only followed a few times before, being far more a haunt of Men than of Elves. She knew the way, but not much of the surrounding land.

Aicasicil’s mansion, Forlindon, winter morning