The hamlet of Hamglen, nestled near Bree, wakes to a chilly morning as the first light of the sun pierces through the mist that blankets the small homesteads. The thatched roofs of the cottages glisten with a thin layer of frost, and the air carries a crisp bite that hints at the arrival of colder days. The chimneys release tendrils of smoke that rise lazily into the cool atmosphere, and the village folk, wrapped in warm woolen cloaks, move with purpose through the cobbled streets. The autumn leaves crunch underfoot, releasing a fragrant earthy aroma. The smell of freshly baked bread carries across the streets from Cedwyn and Cat's bakery, inviting many hungry folk to walk towards the Thirsty Boar in a bid to get their hands on a bite of breakfast.
The Thirsty Boar's weathered sign creaks gently in the morning breeze, a foreign woman in earth-toned furs and leathers standing just outside the door. Her attire, a stark contrast to the local garb, immediately draws the curious glances of the local folk. She appears engrossed in a simple yet meticulously prepared slice of bread, generously buttered and adorned with marmalade. With a thoughtful frown on her face, she chews the breakfast morsel slowly, savouring each bite.
Lheuwen and Remaric arrive first, along with a strange new face, a young woman whom seems attuned to the nature around her, named Hafina. Fiontann comes next, yet one who was said to come did not. Hafina hungered and sought out food inside, and ask the Steel spoke with the woman, they came to see a valuable ally. With some convincing, and no arrival from Athlenah, Hafina decides to join the cause, more so to travel South and explore a world that she knew naught was there...
Ready to go, Brava leads the group through the cobbled streets of Hamglen towards the tranquil river that meanders through the heart of the village. Approaching the water's edge, the soft sounds of the river become more pronounced - the gentle lapping of water against the shore, the distant murmur of the current, and the occasional call of a waterfowl.
Along the riverbank, two sturdy canoes rest, their polished wooden frames glistening in the morning light. The canoes are adorned with intricate carvings, reflecting the craftsmanship of the Dunnish folk that made them. A subtle fragrance of damp wood and river mud hangs in the air, complementing the natural perfume of the surrounding flora.
Brava gestures towards the canoes, not using words but offering a smile as if to say 'get in'. A small collection of paddles leans against a nearby rock, their handles worn from countless journeys. The river itself, clear and reflective, carries the hues of the waking sky and the clouds billow above, slowly drifting across the sky. With still no sign of Athlenah, the group splits. Lheuwen, Brava, and Hafina go first, whilst Remaric and Fiontann find Athlenah and follow on behind. Remaric and Fiontann come across Remis, whom offers to go on the journey and with Athlenah found and no more space on the boats, Remaric makes the noble decision to stay behind, watching over and protecting Hamglen. Whilst both travel at slightly different times, the journey for both groups is much the same...
The journey down the river begins in a corridor of thick reeds that rustle gently in the breeze as the canoes navigate their way through. The occasional splash of a fish or the distant croak of a frog punctuates the rhythmic sounds of paddles slicing through the water. Approaching a soft murmuring sound, the group discovers a small waterfall ahead. Brava directs everyone to disembark, and with coordinated effort, they carry the canoes to the lower part of the river. The cascade, though modest, marks a transition point, and as the canoes reenter the water, the river becomes clearer, revealing smooth pebbles beneath the surface.
As the group glides downstream, the landscape transforms into a rocky ravine, dark russet cliffs rising on either side. The rugged grandeur of the cliffs creates a dramatic backdrop, casting shadows that dance on the water's surface. The air is tinged with the scent of moss and damp rock, adding a primal and ancient aura to the journey. Rounding a bend in the river, the group is met with a striking sight - an ancient stone watchtower perched atop a cliff. The tower, weathered by time, bears the architectural markings of Arnor, its purpose veiled in the annals of history. Though details are obscured by the distance, a sense of reverence fills the air as the canoes drift closer, the watchtower a silent guardian overlooking the river's course.
The canoes continue to navigate the river's bends with a graceful fluidity, and as the landscape unfolds, a majestic sight comes into view - the silhouette of a great, ancient bridge spanning the river, flanked by towering ruins that echo the whispers of a bygone era. The bridge itself is a marvel of craftsmanship, its arches reaching towards the sky with an imposing elegance. Weathered by centuries of wind and rain, the stones that form the bridge bear the scars of time, yet they stand resolute, a testament to the prowess of the people of the past. Vines and moss intermingle with the ancient stones, creating a harmonious blend of nature and history. The ruins on either side of the bridge are equally awe-inspiring, their jagged walls reaching skyward like the remnants of a once-grand citadel. As the canoes pass beneath the bridge, the air seems to thicken with the weight of history. The sound of water echoes off the stone surfaces, creating a haunting melody that resonates through the ancient ruins. The group, small against the backdrop of this monumental testament to the past, emerge from the other side, the wide river continuing ahead...
