Dol Amroth

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The following is a loose page from a larger journal, belonging to Ren, describing his experiences with the Avorrim, just over a week before the blockade of Dol Amroth by the Heirs of Castamir.

On the 1st of March, TA 3019

The last few months had been quite busy for me. There was still much to be done in Khazâd-Dum, and the dwarves sure did pay well. Spending my time with the finest of craftsmen among Durin’s Folk proved fruitful, as well, as I walked out of Moria with my finest work yet – a vibrant, shining set of plate armor with the slightest hints of mithril infused into it.

Es was a man of efficiency. Excellence was an art, and self-inflated bluster was its opposite.

Reason and logic were the flavours of grounding and sanity. However, he did allow room for what was an important phenomenon in his life:

Es did not believe in coincidences.

I was exiled, cast out from my own lands, by the evil High Steward Denethor of Gondor.  My heart wept and my mind railed against this injustice, yet ever foremost was my thought turned toward stopping whatever evilness the evil man was planning.  Also, I hadn’t had lunch and I was getting a bit peckish.  All in all, the overwhelming tragedy of my miserable lot made me quite grumpy indeed.

A week before the wedding Princess Lothíriel, daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, met with Captain Cirnaith of the Súlrohir to review the route they would sail to Mithlond, the harbour near Minas Tirith, the site of the wedding. With Lothíriel were the sisters Eregiel and Calentauriel of Lothlórien who would be accompanying the princess on the sea voyage.

Captain Cirnaith laid the map on a table so that they may see the path the ship would take.