Celebrig

Dearest Faerind,

Dearest Faerind,

Within the enclosure of Duillond’s small library stood a fair-haired ellon garbed in blue robes, looking over maps at the table in the chamber’s center. His demeanor and raiment were none too different from the elven scholars who frequented the location. However, at the top of the steps and at the threshold of the entranceway, stood a silver-haired ellon whose stance and outfit betrayed that he was more used to wielding weapon than quills and ink.

~Menelya, Lairë 47~

Today, I crossed paths with that sulky, mysterious ellon who ruined our first day back in Duillond. He must be some patrol, always pacing this way and that way, down to the stablemaster, up to the market, and so on.

~Anarya, Lairë 38~

Oh, there really is nothing quite like a home-coming. When I at last passed through the verdant pastures of the periannath and into the land of graceful blossoming trees, I knew I was home at last. I could hear the lull of the sea not too far off, the branches drooped lower to shake hands with me, and the shore wind rushed through the grass to hasten me further yet.