Fight

Watcher:             First Watcher Penham Fletwood

Victim:                 First Watcher Penham Fletwood, Siofran , Goldgel

     A dark grey sky threw cold wind that bit painfully at the dunlending who sat in his thick furs, huddled up in the small cave that he had found to spend the night in. The crackling fire radiated its warmth out in the cave, spilling its orange glow all over the grey sharp walls where spiders crawled in the dead of the night.

"Come on, come on! We're in Dunland, already. Few more days, and we'll be there."

Five Days Before...

Durin's Day, year 2894 of the Third Age, Hammersmith Hall,

This day was a day I would remember forever.  The day promised to be a normal Durin's Day in Hammersmith Hall.  The Ale Association was here, selling their ales and meads, and minstrels singing the songs of our forefathers.

"Why do you not wish to come with us?!" Erië shrieked at her husband, the volume of the voice drowned out by the talking of the many Elves within their company. The twins, Fimon and Ýron, covered their ears as they stood between their parents, who were looking at each other in great anger and pain. Fimon and Ýron wept in each other's arms, seeing their loved ones so estranged: They had never seen such strife and anger among their kin, less even among their parents.

October 24th

Third Age. (Exact year is still unknown)

Encampment south-west of Goblin-Town.

A war in the freezing colds from the mountains of mist had started. Rangers, Elves and a small company of Dwarves laid siege upon the Goblin-encampment.

Here I, Galodin Dunedhel, write you about my adventure in Gil-Giliath after my fight with the gaunt-lord.

I felt someone touching me, I managed to open up my eyes as I saw Nimlith kneeling down at me, next to her stood a ranger, Randir. The two carried me to the camp in Gil-Giliath.