Eregion

I stand on the edge of the circle of firelight, looking out into the night. The hunter has already left, vanishing into the gloom, and as Lady Athlidhrael turns back to the gathering behind us there is a moment when the whole night seems to stretch emptily before me. The slight breeze lifts my hair, sending strands of it dancing across my face. Without the encircling mountains of Rivendell, the carpet of stars above seems almost endless. I remember previous journeys here: riding at night, moving like a shadow among these mournful lands.

"Shall we commence?" I asked, unsheathing my sword as Minyelaírë took her scimitar from her hilt and did the same, taking that as a yes.
Minyelaírë struck first, leaping over me in a remarkable feat of acrobatics. I caught most of the movement as she landed by my side, aiming for my foot as she drove her scimitar to the ground. I quickly pulled my leg out of the way, as she jumped again, to the side, and attempted to slash at me.

((Music by Thao Nguyen Xanh. This piece is only used for private, non-profit purposes. No copyright intended.))

Low Hollin, Fourth Age 72

Second Age 1697, Iavas

The Little child with flowing black hair smiled at the storybook she was holding, sitting on the fresh grass and looking at the bright, colourful pictures. Candeth Bamorien smiled as her daughter, Daerundros, flicked to another page, her eyes moving from side to side as she read the book.
Daerundros was 25. It was a sunny, enjoyable day in Eregion, and she was outside in the open, looking at her storybook and reading, when suddenly, she exclaimed in a high-pitched voice:

 I shudder slightly as I put my hand to the wall, leaning on it for the briefest moment. There are thick, clinging cobwebs everywhere in this part of the caves, and what little rock is free of them is often covered in lurid growths of fungus. I stand completely still, listening to the ominous sounds of movement echoing in the caves around me, taking in my surroundings. I have been here before, I am sure of that now. Despair wells up again, but I force it down, force myself to start moving once more, walking forwards in what appears to be a never-ending circle.

Two slim silhouette trail of into the shadows of Tham Mirdain. Her companion was so quiet that Reiven had to keep reminding herself she was not alone.  

A gift comes with a story, leaving the words “to Remember”