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It has been long, since one parted the pages of this journal. Not since that of the Misty Mountains and that of the banishment of the company from the vale. Much has happened since the day one’s wound would heal and it was time to depart from Imladris. Khalis truly showed friendship, risking his position to spare one’s own banishment. One will be forever grateful to Khalis, till the end of his days amongst these lands.
The heavy door to the DawnHall swung open with ease, the chirr of it would have announced anyone's arrival, though it was unknown to Taala what reception awaited on the other side of it.
Bracing herself, she mustered the courage within her, inwardly scolding herself for succumbing to the doubts snipping away at her. Taking a deep breath, her mouth drying rapidly she stepped into the hall.
Today I must write about Ardeghon. What can I tell you of Ardeghon Dalgren, the Warrior Poet? My little Micelscop! Well, he has at last returned from his journey to Aldburg in the Folde that he had made with Hyrien whom he affectionately refers to as 'Lady
By the fire Deorgast sat, near his tent set in the Old Forest. He had just crossed the borders of The Shire to observe the river that flows under the Brandywine Bridge, under heavy rain that fell through all morning.
"When I felt all of the strength leave me, and I fell to my knees on hearing the news, I wanted to cry but instead everything inside of me screamed for just one more day, one more hour, one more kiss, one more word, one more glance, one more moment and one more chance..."