Rivendell

Leothross slowed his steed to a walk as the road wound out of the gorges and the Last Homely House came into view. He had visited the halls of Imladris several times already in the last few months, but no matter how many times he visited, he could not help but catch his breath at the sight. The night was already deepening, but it no longer held the same fear as it had in the canyons of the Trollshaws.

Lamps filled the paths of the hidden vale with dim light, leading to a small gazebo near the falls of Imladris where Faorie stood waiting.

Reeger approached silently from behind.

Slowly, Faorie turned to the Neth Megil, studying briefly. “Ah, suilad Reeger. Thank you for meeting with me.” She had sent word to Reeger earlier in the day requesting his presence.

“Of course, Lady Faorie,” he replied. He stood straight, focused yet at ease.

„We have come this far, Ráolor, my brother.

I could escape death one more time, I could rise one more time despite the wounds that have smashed my body.

Greetings to the dwellers of the Northern Outpost of the Hithaeglir,

  Many are the days that the Grey Watch keeps the roads of Ered Luin safe and sound. Long are the nights we watch the ravines of Rath Teraig, and keep a constant vigil to prevent the coarse goblins from wandering out into our domain. There is plenty of work to do, and we - the Wardens of the Grey Watch - we do it well. From the shores of Mithlond and its tall and proud watchtowers, to the great dwarven halls in the north, we make our way with spear and shield, with bow and arrow.