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Vallandur

ashes of arguement

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary
Silence at last ... now I am far away enough not to hear them. Finally, I can hear my own thoughts a little more. It seems clear now that I must return to Calenglad and tell him of my failure. Randir cannot or will not come east without permission from his lord... so north it is - whether to admit my failure or to gain his consent. Mayhap Calenglad will take this matter from me, mayhap I will be done of it and he can find a lesser task for me. It hurts, to admit defeat.

words in the dark

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary
They are still arguing! I could bear it no longer, even with my hands over my ears ... I had to come away. From here I can still catch occasional words, vehement declarations, sudden exclamations. How can they do this? We were close, so very close to reaching an accord! Randir seemed almost agreed on coming east .. and now... now they have both ruined it. Araenion's return should have been a joy, Ranir coming east should have been an ease to my heart .. but now... now... I could cheerfully cast both of them into Midgewater's stinking mud.

pride and prejudice

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary
The breeze seems determined to have this paper from me this evening. There, I see Randir disappearing around the side of the hill, searching again, spying out the safest route. He is fully absorbed in his task though tonight I am distracted, with one thought coming swift on the heels of another. Where is Araenion? What has happened back at the refuge that delays him? To press on without him, trusting to his abilities in the wild to follow our route, or to turn back?

northern men, southern men

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary
And so, here i sit, at this dusty campfire, just off the road. Randir says we are safe here, surrounded by these.. what are they, beast or folk? Like unto the tree-herders, but without any trees it seems. They speak an ancient slow tongue, it rustles in my head like the leaves of an old book.

Too much fire in the hall

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary
Yestereve I left Araenion absorbed in the library. For once a gathering of the Eldar did not tempt him, curled up as he was by the study fire, lost in maps of the East. In truth I was pleased, I had not the heart to tell him that the invitation had only been extended to me, that for this one time Men were not allowed.

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