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Melowen learnt that day of the grim tide that the folk of the Sutcrofts have been living in. The turmoil weighed heavy upon her, yet she is strong enough to bear its weight.
"Then on a day when the weather clears we shall go hunting. For your brother's honour and your family's; we shall slay an Orc for each year that your brother would have lived: that is the count of fingers on six hands. Bring a bed roll and rations, for we do not return until the task is complete." - Ceorlgar to Melowen.
There was a chill in the night air as all the folk were returning to their homes. Many drunk from their drinking, and everyone else weary from their reveling. The dim lamps shone yellow upon the dirt paths and only two figures remained out that night. They stood side by side upon the path before the Mead hall, silent, still as statues.