Fernmir

Another fine day at the shores of Dol Amroth. The sun shined brightly in the office, casting long sunrays over the white stone floor. Fernmir sat at his desk writing down the quarterly profits. A gently knock on the door was answered with silence first, and responded after a long pauze " enter..". 

(OOC: related story : Hallathor - Dealing with a shady past.)

From the castle quarters, the window of Fernmirs workroom overlooked the sea and docks that lay beneath. The white walls of this spacious room was full of book shelves, antique wares and paintings. In the middle stood a large desk and a an almost throne sized chair, on the other side of the desk stood multiple chairs for visitors. The warm breeze of the sea wind filled the room and the sound of seagulls were often heard.

It was a large but simple farmhouse, standing just outside a rather small but typical village in the Southern crofts called Garsfeld. Many people lived and worked there tending the fields. The crops were traded with Snowbourn and with western parts of Rohan if the crops yields were good. Our mother Freia worked there every day together with her younger brother Brenthelm, our uncle. There were also stable boys, and lads of other families working on the fields daily now, it was the harvest season.