The sun rose over the snowy mountain in Thorin's Gate, Fiontann was sitting a little further from the gate into the mountain with a long piece of cloth in his lap. His gaze drifted around as he sat there, quietly, hearing the sounds of the animals and the nature around him, his fists tightening around the piece of cloth.
He was thinking about the late days, they were pleasant and quiet, as always after and before a job. Hours ago he recruited a man named Eredian and gave the ring to Aeirillen, now he was sitting there and thinking what is to come and when would The Fateless Wanderers take up action.
They have to wait for now though, rest well till the time comes..."And it will come soon..." Fiontann though as he started unwrapping the object in his hands. It was a newly crafted orcish sword, Sarriya and he found it some days ago on the road in the Lone-lands as they followed the tracks of carts on the road. That day every band that he sent out saw something of concert, Ost Cyrn was full of orcs, more than usually and ready to travel, others saw orcs in other camps and almost the whole land was covered with orc tracks. Even that night they saw movement and torches on the road... Fion wrapped the sword again and walked back inside, it was time to send a raven.
