Fateless Wanderers

Again it has been some days since I wrote in this book, as if I need to collect my thoughts before I put them into writing.I'm sitting in Gondamon, at the top of the stairs, looking down over the entrance.It's at the crack of dawn and the first vendors have just arrived below me, I'm watching them setting up their stalls and placing their goods on the tables.I think I will try and draw the scene when I'm done writing this.

I hardly know where to begin to write.It has been a few days since last time I wrote and so much has happened in that short amount of time.

Word had gotten to him how she had vanished out of his reach into the care of Elvish folk. He was not particularly bothered about this knowledge as there was enough to keep his mind busy. If he estimated everything rightly they would appear soon enough to interfere with advancements he was interested to see fulfilled. So either way would bring her close to him again, it was just a matter of waiting for the right time. He could do that, it came as a natural talent to him it always had. Impatience was so vulgar and demeaning.

What one can find at the bottom of a bottle many may assume to know. Inns are strewn across the lands of Middle Earth which offer entertainment, social familiarity, nourishment or news from all over the lands. I too am no stranger to the pleasures they can afford.

The feeling of joy is great in the food tent, many men and women gathered to eat after a day of working; in the fields outside or blacksmithing in the town. Wooden mugs emptying out and plates going bare as the evening draws on, Pren and his four friends; Gangen, Deilen, Gwraidd and Rhisgl. All five sitting at a table feasting and drinking, all talking apart from Pren..

"We prevailed in the darkness, the sky too was black. All of us that are known by token names only stood huddled together in the middle of the path weapons at the ready while Rothrian tended to the fallen man's wounds.

She sat awake all through the night the scent of distant lake Evendim permeating the air. On her lap lay the medal on its thin silver chain. It had been the imprinted coat of arms she was staring at for hours now while the campfire smoked beside her. Sparrow shook her head, the early birds would start their song soon and her decision had been made, it was time to act after its fashion.

Gurzlum was empty. The once well garrisoned scouting camp had only a few measly defenders left. The Taskmaster looked to the South for a short while and sighed. “All the good boys are either dead or fled to the hills.” None were around to hear the taskmaster’s rumblings as the ones that could still fight, were placed at the gate to prepare for either aid, or their end. Gurzlum has lost their warriors and scouts on the elves and their wretched allies. The Ongbúrz licked their wounds and prepared to let their teeth shine again.