Lósengriol

My lord and I met the merry travelers at a well-known ruin in the woods. He and I knew we must turn back once we saw the group safely on their way as they traveled toward merriment and frivolity -- and we remained for duty. I admit that envy tinged my gaze upon my friends.

At the small encampment called Gaerond -- mostly Elves of the Trollshaws, but also a few Men who had the look of Dúnedain -- the group made inquiries. Unfortunately, the horse-mistress reported one of her beasts had fallen sick with no cause apparent, and while hir Branalph stood watch for any unusual activity, the others moved to inspect some freshly delivered provisions. Arradril halved an apple to inspect it, while Glorfingwë, who had long experience working with reagents and metals, smelled sulfur among the fruits and vegetables.

After sunset, the Elves gathered to assess the problem. The plant Arradril had found at the water's edge had turned black from the inside, not the outside -- indeed, it looked almost as if it had died of sheer despair, if such a thing were possible. The friends quickly agreed that the blighted plants and the reports of sickness must be related, and perhaps the corruption was waterborne, as horrible a thought as this was. More investigation was needed, and the group decided to make for the small encampment known as Gaerond.

Word had reached Carethril, a healer within the house known somewhat cryptically as Lósengriol, that Men and their beasts were sickening and dying along both banks of the river Mitheithel. Accordingly, a small group of Elves of that house met the scouts encamped just east of the Last Bridge across the river. They fanned out, searching for clues, and soon Arradril found something not at all to her liking.

Morenwenna enters the halls of Lósengriol to join the feasting and dancing, much to the surprise of hiril Seregrían, at whose wedding she had served as witness.

Hiril Seregrían and hiril Manadhlaer naturally fall into step with each other as friends and members of Lósengriol dance in other ways, clap along, or just watch.

Inspired by the music of The Rakes of Kilkarill, and in no small amount by the wine gifted to us by Brewmaster Dzbog (he named it "Celebrindal" -- the good Dwarrow knows his target market), members and friends of Lósengriol begin to depart the feasting tables for the dance floor.

Branalph watches as fireworks in the colors of the House scatter their brilliant light near the halls of Lósengriol. What will the new turn of the seasons bring? His thoughts turn to his beloved Arradril, and the coming joys of exchanging their silver betrothal rings for golden wedding bands.

At the end of the evening, members of Lósengriol and the last few guests went outside to plant one of the esteloth flowers retrieved intact all the way from i Drann, the former part of Arthedain now called "the Shire." Manadhlaer and Lirisseya discussed their hopes to use the plant to heal the griefs of those who bore hurt in their hearts.