Lorien

Well… he didn’t like that brute.
He still couldn’t believe it: master had given him the task to help out in the coming hunt.
The hunt itself wasn’t the point, but Farothir had a good intuition.
And his intuition told him that things were just going to get worse.

Hefting a bundle of cloth-wrapped armor on one shoulder, Makanárë approached the entrance to what seemed a gathering of tents, barricaded to the north. A uniformed soldier of the Malledhrim noticed her approach and bowed, somewhat intimidated by the glowering intensity of her gaze.

Some time ago

I roamed trough gorges until time stopped to exist, as unrelenting force of justice and self grievance. My shield is splintered and spearhead is dulled with each thrust in guts of the goblins and orcs. I am tired, very tired. 

Resting now under the hollow tree, by the great Langflood, i see myself as carpace of what I was before. And I am content, nothing of little worth shall stay with me to my timely end. 

A letter is found laid out upon the table in the main hall.

Greetings kin,