Lindaire

'Darling! Watch out, you cannot just pack your papers underneath the lute! And watch the crockery!' Eilanneth hastily tried to prevent her dear husband from shoving everything in the same saddlebag, effectively making the poor packhorse lean dangerously to one side. She carefully checked the state of the teapot and the cups she was bringing.

"It was a very close contest," remarked the Lord Ambassador. He had returned to his usual place in the Hall of Fire, beside Sogadan, and was of the proud belief that he had averted a national catastrophe.

"Meleth nin!" Eilanneth exclaimed when she saw his apparition locked into a battle with the letterbox in the centre of Rivendell. Often a meeting point for friends and kindred but today, a wrestlers match between the selfappointed bard of Vanimar and what could have been misinterpreted as a great monster fighting to get the treasures Lindaire was grappling for. Eilanneth blinked as she realised he would very likely spend an evening writing such an ode to his adventure nonetheless.