Darkness

The Wrong Way

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As Mornenion could see in the darkness caused by the storm and the men could not, he led the way through the heavy rains. However, he took the wrong path and ended up leading the group up to some steep cliffs, so they had to turn around. It didn't take long to get back on the right path though.

On the brink of the Storm

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The Black Steel stopped on a ridge, near the edge of where the storm began. It filled most with fear, with the loud booms of thunder and flashes of lightning. Mornenion scouted ahead to see if there was any dangers ahead, using his fëa to go unseen. He returned, shocking some as he seemed to appear from nowhere, and told that as far as he could see, there was no danger.

Turu i mornië!

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Turu i mornië!        

The Forest Path

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Having entered the Woodland Realm, after days of traveling without any sunlight, without feeling a fresh breeze upon the skin, many a wanderer can become an easy prey to madness, despair and tiredness.

Swallowed By Darkness

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Darkness

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Story

The room was fading, darkness surrounding his thoughts. Flashbacks of his family, back in Gondor, they were much younger in these memories, alive even, he could almost touch them. A faint smile came over the old mans face.

His thoughts turned to those in Bree he had met, all of them living life, not a care in the world for Penlard, why would they? He had been gone for weeks, months even. The darkness grew.

The Elves of Night

Author: 
This chronicle is recorded by Tinnurion, former servant of the House of Eöl.

A wandering people, the struggles and dangers the Fuinedhil endured were plentiful. As no known songs tell of their tale, this chronicle serves as a reminder of who they were.

A Dark Prophet; V1, B2, C1: The message

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Story

‘This has come from him?’ asked the old man as he rose, his greying hairs light and flowing, ‘you are certain?’

A Dark Prophet; V1, B1, C4: Darkness in fire

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Story

Thistlemead rose from his sleeping place in the middle of the field. He could still hear the cries of Greyleaf, whom had been tied to a pole in the exact middle of the camp. ‘He will get us all killed,’ he muttered as he came upon the group that had gathered around one of three campfires, ‘a merchant will be strolling down the road; he’ll hear screaming and call for the militia.’

Dyghus, the Great Strength, Chapter IV: One Step Forward

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Story

With a curved bow in his hand, he marched through the barren wasteland underneath the mask of darkness the land has given him. Soon, he shifted from being out in the open towards the cover of trees and rocks to hide him from sight. He waited, and his instincts were correct for soon, he had heard voices. Voices he recognized – one was croaky and crisp with age and weariness, whilst the other was simply aggressive and showing strength through even his voice.

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