Laurelindo

“Well done, O cracker-eating varlet! And so I am to be roused, and awakened out of my sleep, to listen to more of your sing-songing prattle! See how my leg is wound up, and my limbs yet trembling and shaking, from the putrid orc arrows? No, varlet, I suppose you must not, else you would give me a moment’s peace, and not twine my thoughts like some noisome, overgrown weed, filling my head up with a bramble chain of idle fancies. You must not suppose I need rest, varlet; but if you do, you are widely mistaken – “

Below our camp lay the Gravenwood, and when we first arrived there, I was mightily heartened to see its pines and majestic oaks and many white birches, and from a distance, I thought its tall, straight, good-looking trees suited me. I do not know why it is called the Gravenwood by the Ranger-folk, but perhaps it is because the Wildmen abuse the bark of its trees for their barbarous carvings.

Yesterday I was scouting when the others moved towards the woods. I was surprised to find them in a place where I did not expect – a mixed camp of rangers and rohirrim, and apparently a ranger woman had led them there. I rejoined the others there and fell asleep. In the morning I woke up with a wet touch of something when a horse was licking my face.

“She came in with the wind from the south…I do not know what brings her here in such haste.”

“She does not seem keen on staying long either.”

The guards taking the night watch continued to speculate in hushed voices. There was usually nothing to entertain their conversations aside from the blank sky and empty grey landscape. Thus, the swift approach of one elf maiden was enough to stir their curiosity for that night.

Eliriael sat upon the stone ledge with her legs folded in front of her. She had just returned from scouting the woods in the west with Belegos. They had little news for their kin who awaited them at their current encampment. All they had found was some information from Rangers about the surrounding areas. After some discussion, it seemed that their next course would lead them south. Perhaps there would be more promising signs to be found there.

While sitting next to a bush, waiting to see if something else would happen, my thoughts were  going in circle over the events of the day. I already completed a list of the plants and healing supply I used and I was currently contemplating just leaving the camp on my own in search for some heal herbs that were quite easy to find in any area with no extreme weather.

Night was falling over Echad Dagoras, muting the color of the land into shadows. A quiet began to descend on the encampment as the elves of Vanimar settled themselves for rest after the long day of traveling. They had set out from Imladris under the cover of night and had not stopped to rest since then. Eliriael remembered the veil of night lifting for the arrival of dawn just as her feet splashed across the Ford of Bruinen.

Laurelindo was sitting in the middle of his own bags, a simple tent standing around him... So simple actually that it was ready to fall after not even 2 hours. He would have to do it properly in the morning... If he or anyone else really cared about it at the time that is.

His mind was replaying the day's events, beginning with the assembly of those who left Imladris that day :