Gondor

Ornessar and Calaerneth were too worried to speak with their voices throughout their trip, so they mostly talked with their minds instead. After all, elves like Ornessar and Calaerneth have this certain ability.

After the successful attack, it was time for Ornessar and Calaerneth to return to Gondor. Katrandil, after all, was still missing, and Ornessar had to let King Elessar know of the success of the mission that was given to Nos Ornessë. A long way they took, and they travelled through Eregion, Dunland, Enedwaith, the Isenford, Rohan, and at last Anórien. It was a long journey, and it took many days for them to finally get to Minas Tirith.

And so did Aragorn son of Arathorn gather as many soldiers as possible to come with him to the Black Gate of Mordor and fight one last time against the Host of Mordor. The two friends, Ornessar and Katrandil, joined him too. 

There, they met a defiled Númenórean, called "The Mouth of Sauron", who conversed with Aragorn. This event started the battle. The Black Gate opened, and Aragorn turned towards his allies.

Ornessar and Katrandil were talking during the whole trip to Aragorn's Camp near Pelargir. The atmosphere there, though, was awe-inspiring. Anyway, it was time for open war. Ornessar followed Elladan and Elrohir, his leaders, while Katrandil followed Aragorn. It was time to retake Pelargir from the hands of the Corsairs.

A few days have passed since I last sat down to fill these pages. I would have written every single day, yet I wish to restrain myself some, to not fill this small journal too fast.

(A small leather bound journal of a reddish brown, some pages previously having been torn from it, as well as the first pages filled with some notes about plants, some unfinished poems, and a list apparently written for a shopping trip to the market. The following lines, the first of what appears to have turned into a diary.)

So I picked up an empty book today to start a diary, I needed somewhere to put my thoughts. This entry will be quite long as there is a lot to write about and I will be shortening most of the stories.

The Massacre:

Purpose.

Sir Elmir began to slow his steed, the large brown destrier coming to a halt. “We ought to stop here for the night.” The older man stated as he surveys the area. Not far from the road were some large boulders forming a crescent, lots of shelter should the weather turn.