Misty mountains

“Thendryt!” Faorie called out.

Thendryt stood beside his black steed, Bovad, staring out at the snowy peaks of the distant Misty Mountains. His armour was tainted black with crimson stains, presumably blood, scattered across his body.

Faorie furrowed her brow, gripping the reigns of her white steed, Ebrail, that stood silently beside her. “Thendryt,” she repeated more quietly.

Endless snow.. endless climbs and descending. We have to face it, we are lost. Daellas swallows the last of his rations knowing his days are almost at an end. His clothes are torn and by now he has a rugged beard with icepikes attached. That night when his brother was asleep, Daellas walked out in the quiet night looking in the cold air watching the moon and the stars shine brightly. He strolled without purpose and suddenly fell to his knees, exhausted and defeated he stared at the snow. Despair lingered in his mind, ready to take the best of him.

Tywerd looked around inside The Prancing Pony Inn .  Fireplace was lit , people were standing near it , drinking , talking ..   Tywerd saw barliman washing glasses with a piece of white cloth . At the table that was overlooking the fireplace , four hobbits were dancing and drinking .