evendim

It has been about two weeks since I last laid eyes upon Ost Barandor. Days seem to pass as fast as they always do for a ranger on the road.
I have been in Evendim for the past four days.

I arrived through taking the road of Bullroarer's Sward, then into, then over the hills of Barandalf and past the road of Men Erain. This would give me an opportunity to see what Annuminas looked like these days though what I found did not please me.

Read part 2 here.

Curgirion was a tall, great man with scruffy, dark hair and stormy, serious grey eyes. He was a man of seventy-one years, a young age for a Dúnadan but a full lifetime for a normal man. He was living in his home, Tinnudir which was in the land of Evendim, an encampment of the Dúnedain. He lived a normal, quiet life well quiet enough for a Dúnadan yet it all changed one day in July and that shaped Curgirion to be the Ranger he is now partially. And it started like this…

I have never lost my temper like this... Not for a long time at least. We were trying to sort out the fate of the child... When I say we, I mean me and Mayrin. Damn that woman... I messed up is merely an understatement... If I could take back what I have done, I would have. Hells, I'd even become a slave again to take that back. I'd walk to Mordor even... Anything.

((oocly note...just a little picture story))...

"Faster, brothers!" Angelnarth said with a winded voice, as the company of rangers marched through the muddy roads of Annuminas. The tall men held on to their weapons and rushed onward, as the sun was setting behind their backs.