I am not a man of history, no, unless it be our own history. I left the guest quarters in the Last Homely house to wander, for I had wished to explore Imladris more, it's curving paths and the sound of the flowing water, the swaying trees, the lights, and the singing of the Elves. I had not usually get this wanderlust, yet, they say Imladris will enchant you, if sound of the waterfall shan't, then the singing of the elves will. I met Aecthel outside of the Last Homely House, she appeared happy to see I, more-so when she had saw Limroval. We spoke for a while, the points of interest being that more of her own folk will be joining us soon. We came to the decision of heading to the Forges. I had an interest in elven swordsmanship, forge-work, and in general, their culture. I intended to learn as much as I could before we left to Fornost, and within time, Angmar. We met a edhel by the name of Menegil. His shield was that of arnorian craft, tis the first thing I found interesting about him. He is from the Golden Wood. A long way from home. We both got a tale out of his shield, that it was reforged with elvish hands yet made by arnorian blacksmiths. I hate to assume, but he seems of honorable nature.
We came to the decision that we were to go the Hall of Fire to teach, tell of tales, and learn. We met Turchiron on the way, but quickly lost him as he needed to complete a task. Two edhil joined us, Curohuron and Elemere, while a Gondorian woman had joined us also, Braigroveth. Menegil had told us of Feanor, the first-born son of Finwe. His mother, Mirriel, had poured all of her spirit into him, so great was he, that he grew to be the greatest craftsman of all the Noldor. So great, was his spirit, that he had made artifacts known as the Silmarils. Relics, so valuable, they sparked a great war, and one could argue, the sinking of Beleriand. The war of the Jewels, so great were these Silmarils, that Manwe had to hollow them, so that any evil hand that comes in contact with them will burn. The Great Enemy had stolen those jewels, killing Finwe, the first elf to die. Feanor, against the counsel of the Valar, had took many of the Noldor to wage war against Morgoth, in the process, they built mighty kingdoms, but eventually, they all fell, and Beleriand sunk.
The conversation soon came to my corner. Menegil asked how I had gained Limroval as a companion, and so, for my repayment of his tale of Feanor. A long tale, indeed, yet an important one of our family. For generations upon generations has my family kept a flock of ravens, from Numenor to present-day. Our flock made nests upon the mountainous cliffs of Forostar, the northern region of Numenor. Home to the Tower of Tar-Meneldur and the Eagles. Ere the Fall of Numenor and the hostility towards the Valar and Eldar, our flock was large. Come the treachery, it diminished. Come the Fall of Numenor, our flock diminished to a number of five. The flock was still alive, yet it was lesser than it was. My grandfather's raven is the grandfather of Limroval. It is said that our ravens could rival those of Erebor. We have protected the flock, as they are our family, and always will be. It is our tradition. Thus, is the story of Limroval.
I am an ignorant scholar, but now, I have some knowledge about the Elves and Beleriand, more in depth than I did before, and for that, I am happy. We are departing to Fornost soon, so, I was able to learn what I could and record it, and hopefully preserving it.
