battle

Nalokha, a witch whos purpose is currently unknown. Though I myself, Anythilia Thorondial, do not know her well, my encounters have given me knowledge of how to avoid some of her deadly tricks.

Fire. Burnt wood, turned into charcoal in a blaze of energy. How it should have warmed, yet the flickering of the flames could not pry away the feeling of dread. The night over the once fruitful and lively land had come and gone, leaving its guests scurrying to prepare breakfast, feed the horses and plan for the morrow.

“Eotharl! Brothers!” shouted Eodarl with a deep voice, “Mother?!”

The night was clear, but the moon was at its lowest point, so only keen eyes could penetrate the darkness of the wood as Seraile passed through it, like a shadow, his foot landing hitting the ground, making as much noise as if on a bed of feathers, his body melting into the darkness around it, the stench he could smell was unbearable, the sulphurous sweet smell of rotting flesh, and there he saw it, a hulking figure, taller than a man, its muscles knotted beneath its dark skin, it’s hair hanging around it’s wide shoulder in greasy knots, a large cruel barbed b

October 24th

Third Age. (Exact year is still unknown)

Encampment south-west of Goblin-Town.

A war in the freezing colds from the mountains of mist had started. Rangers, Elves and a small company of Dwarves laid siege upon the Goblin-encampment.