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To Rûndis, my moonlight,

I am growing weary of this place. The darkness gnaws at my soul, and the constant watch drains my spirits. I had not realised how much this place was affecting me until we reached the great mirror of Jazârgund, and I bathed in its light.

It was just as I was pondering these thoughts that Eldanith arrived. Garfi was the first to notice her presence.

“Good morning, Strongheart, Garfi” the elf greeted.

“Ah! Eldanith! Good morning” I responded. “Apologies, I was lost in thought.”

The hamlet of Hamglen, nestled near Bree, wakes to a chilly morning as the first light of the sun pierces through the mist that blankets the small homesteads. The thatched roofs of the cottages glisten with a thin layer of frost, and the air carries a crisp bite that hints at the arrival of colder days. The chimneys release tendrils of smoke that rise lazily into the cool atmosphere, and the village folk, wrapped in warm woolen cloaks, move with purpose through the cobbled streets. The autumn leaves crunch underfoot, releasing a fragrant earthy aroma.