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Lusseriel was sitting near the entrance of the camp. The area wasn’t quite as safe as she’d like it and night time didn’t make it any better, but she’d leave soon anyway.
She picked up her notebook and started writing to pass a bit of time.
Words and more words have always surrounded her since the hour of her birth. Not a second son, but a useful daughter. She was sent away with her mother to Imloth Melui as a very young child to further her studies and continue her very carefully planned upbringing while her father and older brother fought for the Steward.
Born and raised amongst the elves of Imladris. His love for the subtle colours of green and browns he often wears hark back to his birthplace and provides a welcome reminder of that secluded idyll.
Memories of his fledgling steps as a cook in the ovens and kitchens of Imladris will often bring a smile to his face. His ability to disregard the norms of cooking often left the head cooks bewildered and somewhat bemused. Who can ever forget the apple and roasted carrot pie served during his coming of age celebrations.
In Sûri-kylä I would only write in my journal perhaps monthly or less, because there was not much that happened to write about, but at least in these last few days there has been so much that I feel as if I will use up all the pages in this diary quickly if I write every time there is something to record.
Today I set out to write an epic poem for Bullroarer day. I had been struggling for days, writer’s block can be a real headache sometimes! So I decided it is time to go and visit the Greenfields for myself. It was the first time I ever took a stroll that far from home!
Syllea lay in bed looking at the ceiling. She had left the Pony not too long ago to get some rest, but she was having trouble sleeping that night. Every time she closed her eyes her parents and the dreadful night she lost them crept into her mind. Syllea decided to get up and see if Demlemoth was in the larger house. He was not, and Syllea began to panic.
Background: Baraque grew up in a noble family in Far Harad. He was planned to overtake as the head of the Nalfaar family, but quickly showed to not fit in to the culture. He and his father clashed time and time again about every topic imaginable, and they never found common ground.
This being a major problem and a disgrace to the family, Baraque was "offered" to leave the lands as a merchant selling local wares at the age of 22. From that day onwards, Baraques life as a travelling mercant has been quite turbulent.