Khalis did not know what drew him to the hall that day, truth be told many had often spoken quietly about how the elf lord seemed less focussed and carefree since returning from the far south with the remains of the company he rode with. It was well known that less than half returned to Imladris, their role had always been a perilous one in service to the lord of the vale.
Their company small but tightly bonded had always found that balance between duty and living every day to its maximum. Khalis was always reminding people he spoke with that riding with menfolk in their company they were reminded how each day is to be enjoyed especially when one’s life was measure in years and not ages.
The Hall of Fire was as warm and welcoming as ever as Khalis strode into the hall, as always wearing the colour of their company and their famed cloak which they joked saying it only goes with the colour black. Thus the colours for the banner of their company was born. As Khalis took in the atmosphere and felt the welcoming warmth of the heat from the great fireplaces upon his skin he looked around the room at the faces gathered. There was a good two score gathered sharing wine and news from around the vale. What was different was the detail that almost all of the faces were unknown to him, had he been away for so long Imladris had changed so much he mussed to himself.
As he quietly moved towards the fireplaces his ever-present sword at his side he saw the Lady Morenwenna step out from among those gathered to share her music and voice with those in the room. The gentle touch of her of her fingers upon her harp brought conversation to a quiet stop as the musical melody flowed from her to spread outward into the great hall, its echoes resounding back as though accompanying the melody being played. True testament to the skill of the Lady Morenwenna.
One of those gathered then came close to Khalis and spoke a brief introduction, she was tall in stature with an unblemished complexion and she moved with confidence and authority. Her most striking feature was the long flame infused hair which cascaded down across her shoulders. But what drew Khalis’ eye most was the weapon she openly carried at her side. Whereas his own offered no reflection to light except under the moon in the night sky, her weapon was bright and glittered as she moved. It looked like a weapon created to be noticed, whereas his own only carried one gemstone, a pale blue crystal set into the claw at the pommel tip which sometimes gave off a very feint shimmer.
Surely such a blade had a name and a history Khalis thought to himself, but those thoughts were soon washed away as the lady of the blade spoke. . . .
