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Parnard

Making Decisions

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Screenshot: General screen

And departing the company of Lady Manadhlaer and the others, we three returned to a place near to Sogadan where Parnard could question him. They really were good friends, and any recent misunderstanding seemed to have gone. The Wood elf grabbed the Vintner by the shoulders and said, "Still dreaming, eh?"

"The tray is outside, Sogadan," Estarfin also addressed the Vintner as he poured himself a fresh glass of wine. "Fetch it when you will." He leant against the table.

Manadhlaer's Diary: Many Meetings, One Letter

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Diary

Well, Diary. Today's entry is a little unusual. But then unusual seems to be my usual condition of late.

Exiting the Hall of Fire -- the usual music, dancing, wine, all very much the same, although there was a new elleth and meeting her was very pleasant; Fingolian proposed to return to his home in the Golden Wood, and was given a great deal of well-meaning advice, not least about the pass. If only he had the sheer muscularity of the letter I came home to -- but I get ahead of myself.

First Day in Imladris

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Screenshot: General screen

Our first day back in Imladris is almost over. I am not certain what I think. The Vale is as beautiful as it always was. Little seems to have changed, but then I have not been absent for so very long.

Faces have changed somewhat. There are some I look for who I have not yet seen, and many I do not recognise. But I have encountered a few old friends.

Warmth on a Cold Night

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Story

 

Of Tripe and Oranges: Part Two.

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Story

 

“I am sure King Thranduil holds magnificent Feasts,” said Filignil. Never had she attended one, but during her travels in the lands of the Wood-elves she had heard of them. “They are not quite the same as our feasts of old, and even celebrate different times of the year, but they can be magnificent nonetheless.”

Of Tripe and Oranges. Part One.

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Story

The day had been an exceptionally busy one. The Autumn Feast was drawing very close. Then there were preparations for the winter months in general, and then, the Lady had told her that she, Lord Estarfin and Master Parnard would all be heading for Mirkwood shortly. How long they would be away for was uncertain.

Cousin Parnard

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Artwork: AI Generated/Influenced

Parnard oft calls me 'cousin'. We are, of course, not actually related in any way. It has become a term of endearment that I use in turn for him.

He learned I had no family in contact for almost two Ages, my parents having been slain, my cousins travelling their own path. 'Then I shall be your cousin,' he offered. 

We have been friends for some time, he and I, even though we are so different. Yet the longer I know him the more he seems like actual family to me. 

To what end will this course lead us?

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Artwork: AI Generated/Influenced

The festival has ended and we three must make ready for our journey to Mirkwood. We shall stop a short time at Imladris however, to take stock of what we need in crossing the Hithaeglir this time of year. Our purpose after that is to see Parnard reaches his home, and if at all possible, she to whom he would be betrothed. 

Visting the Forge

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“What is this thing,” Parnard asked Estarfin, holding out an oddly-shaped object.

 

Out of the Mists

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Artwork: AI Generated/Influenced

And then, the day before the last of the festival, out of the morning mists walked Belegos. 

"Just a fleeting visit," he told them "And to remind you I have my eye on you. Both eyes when I can."

He was warmly greeted, and asked how he was, and how his mission progressed. There was ever hope he would be free to spend some time at Numenstaya, but his three friends understood. 

"Someone has to save Middle Earth," he said to them, with a grin, knowing all of them did their part when needed. 

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