Tindir

Quiet. The last remnants of those departing had left a few days earlier. Even the oldest had joined this time. Himwen had seen the cave emptying, had seen the Men carry what little they owned out of this dark, dank place, to a world they barely had seen. To go south, to a part of Arda they perhaps never had visited. And still, with brave hearts and deep determination, they had taken charge of their own destinies and pushed forward. In her quiet contemplation, she pondered about the consequences of their kind taking that stride now. They would be there when she and her kind would not.

Upon approaching the hill and the narrow path, Himwen noticed two things. The camp seemed to buzz with excitement. Rangers greeted her as she ascended the slopes, some of them she had spoken to previously as she had joined them on their watch against the shadows many an eve. Slumber did not replenish her as it had before the encounter with the Good Captain and keeping a watchful eye was the best she could offer. The second thing was how empty it now looked. They were quickly removing any trace that could be found of the camp itself. Were they really leaving?

Tingruviel turned the document over and stared at the blank page. As she faced the front again, her expression turned rather sour. An artifact lost to the city of Gondolin, supposedly in the hands of... dwarrow. How could that be? And more to the point, where was it now? In some cave, supposedly. The scout had reported guards at the gate, a multitude of them. Enough that he would not be able to pass through without notice. She frowned, it would have been so easy to just slip inside and take it, if it were not for... No. They had to do it in a different manner.