Mirkwood

My heart lept as I learned that there are forces of good at work in Mirkwood. I know I was expected for the Hûd i Eledhrim but I could linger in Imladris no longer - the road called for me! 

For some time, I have watched these elves in the valley of Imladris, where I lurked all the spring; speaking little to anyone. Most took no heed of me, for I did not encourage talk, and kept myself apart, listening for news of my brother. None was forthcoming. I began to think he was dead, and that by the end of the season, I must betake some other plan of action.

Now Rainith has told us of her wounding during her brave battle with the Orc on the very borders of the wood, and how she stood between them and her Malledhrim friend, and suffered grave injury, almost losing her life, from the look of her. I am worried that she is too weary to travel, but she said she was not.

After aiding the proprietor of the Forsaken Inn tracking down a shipment that had been overrun by goblins, the last days have been quite uneventful - but still beautiful and somber in their own right. I made my way through the Lone-lands and into the Trollshaws without too much excitement. Walking along the Trollshaws road with it's eternal fall-trees on both sides, yellow leaves swirling past me, my mind begun to wander. The memory once more arose. 

...

My journey has started, with a quite unexpected first few days. 

As I make arrangements to set out on this ardous journey, I am stifled with doubt and regret. Is it really the time to return to the Realm? I have not heard much about it, only whispered rumors of foul creatures; spiders, ghouls and worse things that prowl those once so glorious wooden halls. I do not even know if my people is still alive. Is even Thranduil still breathing? Anything else would be unthinkable of course, but still. What if I return, and my native land is a naught but a tomb?

[OOC: This note is posted at the Sworn Wanderers kinhouse] 

To my fellow wanderers, sworn by oath.

Nae saian luume'.