Ararusco

The copper-haired elf took the silver arrowhead and held it up to the light of the forge, inspecting it with a keen eye. 

“How many?”

“Twenty.”

The smith’s lips twitched into a smirk.

“You lose twice as many in a single day, Dolthafaer.”

The Lord of the Arrow chuckled under his breath and dropped a small pouch of coins onto the table strewn with scattered notes, tools, and metal shavings. Sometimes he wondered how the foreman could find anything amidst this mess.

So spoke the Kinslayer,

Mindful of hardships,

Of fierce slaughters,

And the downfall of Kinsmen.

I walked on the road away from Last Homely House, and my feet started to climb a small hill, or rather towards a cairn, the cairn of Themodir. Elvealin has told me what had happened in his funeral, and I wanted to pay my own respects.

The door to the armoury was thrown open with a force that rattled it on its hinges, startling Ararusco into dropping his charcoal pencil.  It rolled over his careful notes and fell to the flagstones with a clatter.  He turned in annoyance to see who had made such a noisesome entrance and was met with the sight of a furious dark-haired maiden approaching him.

“What is this I hear about you refusing to teach my sister to fight?”

Today I received word that shipment of the ore arrived, and I would myself see what my lordship’s money has bought, and all in order. Venturing to the forges I saw a crowd of people from the house gathered round a pile of crates.

The Wood-elves generally conceive of their woods as their world, and the rare sight of stars shining through the branches of the trees is their great delight, for it is always dark in shadowy Mirkwood. Game animals are still plentiful in the northern part, and so the elves are comfortable and well provisioned with meat and skins. As they do not keep herds of animals, nor are they skilled at raising crops, having no cleared land fit for this purpose, the Wood-elves have abundant leisure time, which they spend in feasting, singing, dancing, and playing games.