Estarfin

Making their way along the gloomy paths of Mirkwood, the company pressed onwards toward their goal for the day.

The Lady Danel thanked me for my help before she departed to speak with the Lords Bele

Parnard opened his eyes and stretched his limbs, feeling all weariness gone. He was glad to see the sun had gone down since he rested.

Whether it was night or not, the others did not know, but Belegos' instincts told him that the sun had set a while back. It was impossible to tell under the lichen-smothered boughs of Mirkwood. Day was only ever an almost imperceptible, lighter shade of darkness that passed quicker than what seemed normal. A storm had rolled overhead and it had been raining for hours. The company were sodden and miserable. The rain had soaked through their cloaks and hoods to run down their backs and collect in their boots.

Elloen had a bandage in his hand, and he was rolling it on the arm of yet another wounded malledhrim soldier. The air about him was foul, and there was little comfort in this place, at the camp of the shore at western Mirkwood. He heard the soldier thanking him and he smiled briefly as an answer. Danel had earlier negotiated that they could stay here if they helped the wounded soldiers and Elloen had agreed to do it, along with keeping an eye over Estarfin. Promise was a promise.

Sometimes I wonder if Lord Estarfin is in his right mind. But what is right?