Laurelindo

Laurelindo was in his office at home, checking on his researches, reading his notes again, and sorting out his various works on his desk with a frown, reading through all his notes, looking for an answer to one question that he had noted vaguely on a corner of a parchment before leaving for Eregion.

Sitting next to a warm fire, a little fox curled up on his laps and Tyulusse busy nearby, Laurelindo was writing in his journal, petting the fox absentmindedly while he was doing so.

The way from the forge to the library was as fast as I remembered it to be, and rather enjoyable, I must admit. Surprisingly we didn’t… ah… Fell accidentally into the river at this point though we had to swim across it to reach our destination.

The two healers were sitting in the heart of the old forge in Eregion, admiring for the first time in thousands of years the place where their parents used to work. The place where they escaped working in their youth.

Laurelindo was sitting with his note book in his laps, he had managed to make a simple drawing of the place, committing to paper what he saw of the forge itself. And now, on the page following the drawing, he was writing about how they came here. Tyulussë next to him was admiring the forge still, his own book out of his bag.

Once again sitting by a fire, in a different camp this time, Laurelindo was writing in his journal:

Tyulussë injured is of the strange specie of beings that needs to be drugged up or dying to stay somewhere and rest. As a result, he only rested for one night before we walked all the way to Echad Mirobel.

Laurelindo was sitting in the camp, next to Tyulussë. His book in his laps and writing, keeping an ear out for any problem. After all, they knew the area wasn’t safe, and it was merely a camp, they were in. And with Tyulussë’s injury…

I seem to have been remiss in keeping the account of our travel. To my defence, the past two days were a bit busy. Not particularly eventful at first but busy and fun. Something only happened today. But let’s write things in order.  

​Laurelindo was sitting in their camp, watching the sky above, writing in his usual book at the light of the fading fire.

“The journey started with no incident. Which I suppose, I should count as lucky, knowing the both of us. When Tyulusse and I are together, there is no telling what can happen.

We were just a little delayed in our departure. I suppose it wasn’t avoidable. We either should have left earlier, or should have expected it.

We gathered at the appointed place, at the appointed time, and I uttered a few words of encouragement, as some faces seemed a little pale and anxious. I said how it will suit the rest of our noble House, and our Lord Anglachelm’s high authority, if we learned the art of defense and fighting. Then I said how advantage favors the well-practiced hand, and it would please me to see one or two of our Order strike a solid blow above the girdle.