Helcaraxe

On Helcaraxe

Submitted by Tyelpenasse on April 8th, 2023
in
What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

(set a few days before the First Age events in Black Iron - Cooling a fever (XI) )

 

The Grinding Ice

Submitted by Aurthiel on December 18th, 2022
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What type of content is this?: 
Artwork: Artscreen

Helcaraxe.

Source: 
Screenshot taken and edited by myself; edited on iPiccy

Warmth In The Cold

Submitted by Aurthiel on December 12th, 2022
in
What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Why...

Her hands were stiff and numb with coldness. Snowflakes swarmed the landscape like pesky insects. Boots pushing through the towering inches of snow, she shivered as she held the warm wine bottle in her hands. 

Why... in tarnation...

... had she stayed in Eriador this winter?

That stupid elven ball was one thing. Her pesky family begging her to stay in Imladris for once was another reason. Desperately working her uncooperative hands to open the bottle of her glorious warm wine, she continued to march in the snow.

When I Say Snow, I Mean No

Submitted by Aurthiel on September 5th, 2021
in
What type of content is this?: 
Screenshot: General screen

Aurthiel really, really, really loathes the cold! She goes to the greatest lengths to avoid even an inch of snow - even migrating to the southern parts of Middle Earth for the winter! She always thinks of Helcaraxe, and it always makes her feel frigid, bitter, and lost inside...

Brother

Submitted by Aurthiel on April 19th, 2021
in
What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry

We were young and impressionable, weren't we?
We were young, filled with wrath and grief
With spirit you march with the fire
With regrets I walk through the ice

Why...

We were young and impressionable, weren't we?
We were young, filled with wrath and grief
With spirit you march with the fire
With regrets I walk through the ice


You cared, you loved me, didn't you?
You defended me, I defended you too
So why did you start the fire?
Why did you leave me to die in the ice

Chronicle link: 
Aurthiel's Songbook

Scarf Song

Submitted by Aurthiel on April 14th, 2021
in
What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry

The cold, oh! The cold, it bites
All around me and in my young heart
Chill me, burn me, break me, take me
The sorrow runs deep as the frosty waves below, pounding and harsh.

Alone, so cold and alone. 
Bitter winds sweep around my thin skirt, I am a glacial stone
Yet, in the apathies of this curse, I sense one thing
The rough yet warm cloth wraps around me

Chronicle link: 
Aurthiel's Songbook

"Like You Promised"

Submitted by Envandiel on March 29th, 2021
in
What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

The world is dark. Shadows creep, blacker than the night. The light of dim stars is the only thing that illuminates the ice, and it gleams like cruel fangs. Jagged splinters pierce the landscape of snow and ice as far as one can see in the deep gloom. Wide chasms gape like hungry mouths, ready to catch an unwary traveler, and in the distance echo mournful howls and eerie cries of the monsters that roam this wasteland.

Icy Farewell

Submitted by Envandiel on January 26th, 2021
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What type of content is this?: 
Artwork: Painting

She stood beside a grave, little more than a cairn in an icy wasteland. Sobs racked her body and she drew her cloak tighter. 

Someone placed a hand on her shoulder. “We must keep moving.”

She nodded, swallowing. “Give me one moment more, I pray thee.”

The Elf moved away, rejoining the others in the slowly dwindling camp.

Source: 
Art by me (https://www.facebook.com/NerdyArtLizard)

She Hates the Cold...

Submitted by Aurthiel on May 16th, 2019
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What type of content is this?: 
Screenshot: General screen

Thanks to having to cross Helcaraxe so long ago, Aurthiel despises the cold. All the way up to the Third Age the sight of snow or the feelings of chilly weather leave a foul taste in her mouth... When forced into winter environments, she bundles up as much as she can, but to no avail. She still feels the cold. And she hates it.

Of Anor and Ithil

Submitted by Seronaer on February 19th, 2018
in
What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Seronaer leant on her father’s spear, his shield slung across her back as she marched, bent beneath her burdens and her troubles. Long had the march been, over perilous, grinding ice and through bitter, frozen winds. The great hills of ice crashing together as the water beneath them tossed and turned, jolting their host forwards and backwards.

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