Aurthiel

A true warrior, skilled veteran, and passionate fighter, Aurthiel has a small collection of trusted weapons she keeps on her person. These are her weapons, their origins, and the personal preferences of this ancient Noldo.

Aurthiel opened the door to her forge and workshop. It was dark, gloomy, and had all kinds of clutter, supplies, and half finished projects lying around. She passed the cooling pool, her finished lantern, and collection of raw white crystals. She approached the shop, the forges and work bench. Above the forges, a map of Eregion hung on the wall in valiant display. Oh, Eregion...

"Mythrenniel, you are my friend, yes?"

"What? Of course! What makes you-"

"We could leave everything behind. We could just run. Live by ourselves, the dream of us we never achieved. We could live alone in these forests, raise a child to be better than either of us. It would be paradise."

"... Do you mean that?"

The elf swatted a branch out of the way as the trudged down the dirt road. No horse, no companion, no nothing. Only herself. She approached a run down looking town. Shabby wood buildings, sloppy dirt and mud roads... Pathetic. Then again, what was to be expected from these pitiful humans. Humans had no standards compared to her kind. The elves would compare this icky, depressed village to orc architecture!

Her hand was clenched, tightly gripping the small object within a sweaty grasp. Her eyes were closed. Water vapor sprayed her face as the waters from the falls thundered in her ears. She still held onto the object in her hand for dear life.

Nevrast had a gloomy climate. It rained frequently, the pouring rains only increased the more dank and mellow atmosphere the sea and mountains provided. Yet, this was a place many of the Noldor considered home. It was summer, and Mystarennye and her friend Alasiel had traversed to a less popular region, inland, away from their usual home in Vinyamar.