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Eilanneth

The Departure

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

'Darling! Watch out, you cannot just pack your papers underneath the lute! And watch the crockery!' Eilanneth hastily tried to prevent her dear husband from shoving everything in the same saddlebag, effectively making the poor packhorse lean dangerously to one side. She carefully checked the state of the teapot and the cups she was bringing.

 

Blighter's Walk

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Manadhlaer sighed, not for the first time that day, or that hour. She dipped her quill and made another attempt:

It has been widely known since the Elder Days that the sap of an unopened poppy...

Instantly she stopped and put a line through her words. "If it has been widely known," she said aloud, "why write it at all?" One of her delicate silken slippers, as light as an Elfling's first breath, had already gone. She kicked the other against the far wall of her office and began again.

Pride

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

The Music Contest

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

"It was a very close contest," remarked the Lord Ambassador. He had returned to his usual place in the Hall of Fire, beside Sogadan, and was of the proud belief that he had averted a national catastrophe.

Simmering in the twilight

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

 

Himwen turned around. The round room was mildly lit with candles and the fireplace harboured a mellow fire. The flames licked the bottom of a black small cauldron as though it hungered for the contents puttering above.

She looked at the chair next to the fireplace. He had been resting in it for a long time, but thankfully he was now walking around the valley. She sighed of relief, thankful that he was on the mend. The wounds had been great, but he was a hardy soldier. An ellon with determination to survive.

Self portrait

What type of content is this?: 
Screenshot: General screen

The beast

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

"Meleth nin!" Eilanneth exclaimed when she saw his apparition locked into a battle with the letterbox in the centre of Rivendell. Often a meeting point for friends and kindred but today, a wrestlers match between the selfappointed bard of Vanimar and what could have been misinterpreted as a great monster fighting to get the treasures Lindaire was grappling for. Eilanneth blinked as she realised he would very likely spend an evening writing such an ode to his adventure nonetheless.

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