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The tavern of Knackered Neekerbreeker buzzed with the hum of conversation, but none spoke louder than the old man by the hearth. His voice, raspy and sharp like dry grass, carried above the clatter of mugs and laughter.
Estarfin had suggested Parnard slept outside, under the lights of Tintallë. I first thought of the sea, the mantle of Ulmo, for defense. A different Vala, but the same need for an ally whose will could not be challenged. Oh, I was angry then, at myself for not seeing clearly earlier; with the Sorceress Zairaphel and her petulant tenacity.
“We do not peer idly into the past of the family of our Princes. Their life is here. Our lives are here. But in your case, Carnifinde, I understand the curiosity. You do have the look of the Lady Nerdanel about you, and something of her manner. It is no surprise our Prince sees you are well provided for, not that your father is any unworthy Lord of Thargelion. Perhaps it is time you and I had a talk.”
A quick scribble showing a scene of loss and regret as an uncle mourns his nephew's poor decisions, which ultimately led to the uncle having to take the life of his own nephew in order to protect another from harm.... as featured in a recent session of an RP Campaign called Where Webs Whisper
The Dwarves of Durin's Folk are given a tour of the village of Bancross by their friends and allies of the Men of the Mark. The Dwarves take an interest in their tavern, aptly named "The Roaring Dragon". They toast to a shared future of prosperity.