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Tears are falling freely from my eyes, whether from the smoke or sorrow I no longer know. I am covered in blood, and it is not my own. This night has brought nothing but madness and awful grief. I stand before a small house, the roof burning, the acrid smoke mingling with the pall of smoke from a hundred other fires. The Haven is in ruins, the last shelter in Beleriand destroyed by our own hands. The occupants of the small house lie at my feet, and my heart nearly breaks as I look down at them. The smallest of them could have run, could have hidden.
“Boy!” shouted a voice, rousing the child from his nap. The warm sun and the creaking cart and the sounds of the horse had lulled him to sleep. It was a big day, for some reason, he couldn’t remember. He sleepily rubbed his eyes and stretched. He had left home with his father for something; waking up much earlier than normal.
The rolling hills of the Dale-lands are home to many small villages and farms. Coeldazar comes from just such a small farm. Leaving home at an early age, Coeldazar set out to explore the wider world of Middle Earth
Halladan was born on cold shores of Forochel. His mother was of Lumi-vaki, the lossoth, his father was a ranger stationed there at the time. First twelve years of his life Halladan spend with lossoth, then later father took him to Esteldin. Around that time his peers named him "Forodren", which he didn't like at first, but eventually came around.
As the sun sets and the stars rise above the town market square, Nauriend starts to wonder if the rumours are true; do the Dead walk in Cardolan and will they attack the Living?
Then a report comes in from a suspicious sighting across the hills... Ranger, Elf and mercenary go to investigate.