Veryacano

Once again I find myself on the road with a search party to find an elf. He’s called Themodir, is of the Order of the Hammer and he betrothed to a lady living in Imladris and that is all I know of him.

I didn’t plan to leave this time.

First, I’ve asked lord Estarfin to train me at least a little so that I have something else than survival instinct and the knowledge that, no, taking a sword or a knife by the blade is NOT a good idea to rely on when I need it.

Second, I also have duties in Imladris and I didn’t want to leave it all behind.

"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.

It could not have been a more splendid day for a tournament. 

The sun was high in the clear blue sky by the time Dolthafaer arrived in Delossad – the ruins situated in a glade not far from Imladris, pillars and walls of crumbling grey stone encircling a courtyard overgrown with wildflowers of purple and white and gold.  

The trial being concluded, I approached Lord Estarfin to congratulate him on his victory, but he only shook his head at me and gave me quite a cold answer. I perceive that he takes very ill with me, and thinks me a faithless friend, when I insist that I did all I could to help him.

I understand from your letter that you wish to receive a commission from Lord Veryacano. I do not know your particular reasons for wishing to join the Order of the Hammer, but it seems fitting, and very favorable; if you are accepted, you will find all manner of honours conferred upon you, which are exclusive to the Hammer Order.

My Lord,

I had heard some talk in the courtyard of one of the guests leaving very abruptly, having taken sick, and all his symptoms indicated that his sickness was probably due to the food that he ate while in the Hall of Fire, which, it was said, was a seafood repast graciously supplied by my Lord Anglachelm.

The Ambassador inquired whether there would be any objection to his communicating with the prisoner. There was not. Mirdoron and Mallenhadh seemed to think nothing important would likely result, and that the skinny, mild-mannered elf seemed harmless. They waved him aside.

"I should prefer to speak to him alone, in more comfortable surroundings - perhaps the Hall of Fire? No? Well, have it your way, then." Parnard smiled affably.

“It is not your place to command me, I am free to stay or go by my own will!” Galuoneth spoke the words with a certainty that she did not feel, not when faced with the grim Noldor before her. Estarfin stood to the fore, dressed in a thick leather apron, carrying a heavy hessian sack over one shoulder, a wooden case of tools in his other hand. To his left stood Ruineth, dressed in a tabard of thick suede, turned almost black from long years spent before the forge.

When I woke up at Echad Eregion, I recalled a thing that Elvealin had told me before we departed. She and Feahelka had seen the Dunlending trying to establish a camp near Gwingris. There is some time of that but I still thought that the Lords present would appreciate the information, and so I told them.