Noldor

Seronaer leant on her father’s spear, his shield slung across her back as she marched, bent beneath her burdens and her troubles. Long had the march been, over perilous, grinding ice and through bitter, frozen winds. The great hills of ice crashing together as the water beneath them tossed and turned, jolting their host forwards and backwards.

The feast was quite fulfilling, so was the rest. We went south, following one of the rivers which flowed into Eregion and the Trollshaws. From there I sent Varni and Alimaenda(both equally knowledgeable in herb-lore) into the forest(which was quite near the river) to gather herbs, spices, and other things that may prove fruitful. I was quite pleased when they returned, their bags were filled with various herbs, few spices, apples and other fruits.

We gathered our supplies and anything we could muster, then said our goodbyes to our friends. We knew there was another group of Noldor going to Eregion, and thought that we should meet up with them, as there is safety in numbers; So off we went, searching for the group as we traveled to Eregion. We often stopped at the streams we would come across, refilling our water supply, but due to my beloved Varni we stopped to gather some herbs and the like. I doubt that she wanted to gather herbs to resupply, but instead learn firsthand about them.

I was fairly tired from yesterdays journel here, yet I am glad to be among the people I love and to have them safe. I spoke with Alimaenda on how Varni and Hrai were doing on their teachings, Varni was doing well in her tracking and archery and so on, while Hrai was proving rather difficult and instead sought to learn by reading of scrolls of other scholarly endveaors.

“Come!” Seronaer cried in Sindarin, urging on the Eldar as they hurried past, “Quickly along the passage!”

The fleeing civilians ran passed her along the mountain pass, clutching what few belongings they could. The young children were crying, as were many of the parents. To their rear, the great roars of dragons and mocking cries of orcs and balrogs filled the air.

It was cold on the beach, and Seronaer’s breath misted before her. She sat huddled with her mother, terrified to leave her side should she lose her. She had lost so much already. They had left their home, the familiar white streets and tall towers where flowers and light were in abundance. Now, they sat in darkness on the cold, desolate beach, looking out over the furious sea and awaiting the return of their kin.