Ranger

My old journal is depleted. Beginning anew.

I was called but I did not answer. 

It has been days now since it came. A companion of Halbarad - of The Grey Company - entered my camp, I was not startled, only a kinsman knows where I camp or would approach so calmly. I was not unhappy for the company but his words filled me with dread, even as he said them with a smile. Our chieftain had called for us to gather and to ride, to ride south, to ride to war. 

With a curved bow in his hand, he marched through the barren wasteland underneath the mask of darkness the land has given him. Soon, he shifted from being out in the open towards the cover of trees and rocks to hide him from sight. He waited, and his instincts were correct for soon, he had heard voices. Voices he recognized – one was croaky and crisp with age and weariness, whilst the other was simply aggressive and showing strength through even his voice.

It has been two days and well into noon, by now. Despite so, this did not trouble Nenusidh, perhaps it was one of the reasons why he had to set out so quickly, which was the journey will be a while in itself. He has made way into the steep hills of Nan Amlug, the area where the forest breaks into hill and deep valleys.

It was a cold winter, especially moreso in the northern regions such as the woods of Annúndir that resided between the Fields of Fornost and Kingsfell. Despite the temperature, the day was glowing, but the sun hid behind a mask of clouds. It was to be expected as light comes with heat, and if heat was masked so should light.