Nimeway

Neyaa visits the grave of Rossethor Cirdain, having received a missive from his wife Nimeway to tell her he recently passed away, peacefully in his sleep. She places some flowers upon his grave, with this note attached.

My Dearest Rossethor,

Although it has been several days since my utter humiliation and likely end to whatever it was that I shared with Seaver. I cannot get the look on his face out of my mind, I shudder each and every time I picture it, like a hammer blow to the chest. As much as I had thrown myself back into everything that must go on as normal, my thoughts have been consumed with it and continuously playing out a different outcome, one where I had stilled my tongue instead and kept my heart in check.

Bandits – The Rescue.

Just up the slope, the bandits' encampment could just about be made out through the gap in the trees.  Firelight reflected off the higher ruins and the occasional muffled laugh or curse could be heard.  The night was still otherwise, save for the lapping of water and the occasional hoot of an owl heard overhead on silent wings.

It was well past noon, going on the evening when the last of the available summoned had arrived. Only some had come. Those who had, had just happened to be near enough for the riders to find. Like as not, some of them would be coming drunk, but Newell kept an eye on all who came and noted what their eyes fell on when entering and who they talked to. As the people gathered in the main hall of the Dawnhall, Newell stood near the back, leaning on one of the pillars as he kept an eye on who were there, or even more interesting, those who were not.

If love alone could have saved you, you never would have died.

The agonizing pain to which she awoke was all too familiar.  Neyaa struggled to a sitting position, the fear in her eyes evident as she called out to Deredan.  The pain tore through her abdomen, instinctively she placed her hands where it hurt most and attempted to adjust her breathing to calm the torment, awaiting the inevitable.

Today we reached Rivendell. Each time I enter its gates a feeling of fullness and bliss fills me, and this time it was no different. After we made ourselves comfortable I strolled around and many thoughts and memories filled my mind, thoughts of older times and thoughts of friends.

The secret of change is to focus all of your energy not on fighting the old, but on building the new