Elves

The blood was still dripping from his double blades as Galrondor approached the injured bandit whose right arm was missing, he had cut it during the fight earlier, Amdarath's arrow flew by the elf's face and struck another bandit. He had just appeared from behind the tree that the injured man was laying against, the brigand fell dead with a thump, next to his live friend. "Now they are all dead." exclaimed Amdarath as he nocked another arrow and pointed it at the man.

-This is most troubling, said Lord Elrond and put the piece of parchment down on his desk, he looked in the eyes of those around him and pushed his hands against the desk to get up. Calmly he walked to the window to look outside, just the moment when a light breeze blew to his face, he closed his eyes and breathed in, thinking, unexpressed. The Elves in the room remained silent, standing upright, their expressions wouldn't betray what was going on in their mind, if they were thinking or not, they just stood there.

The man was walking on the border of the forest in the Northernmost part of North Downs making sure he was unseen. The land was unusually silent, even the birds didn't chirp as they used to do, the tall trees of Nan Amlug West are a home to many birdsand often the forest was filled with their chirping , but not that day. The man went on, his green and brown clothing hid him, making him one with his surroundings.

The air blew chilly over Weathertop, despite it being a summer day, that night was cold and moonless, the three men stood atop the old watch-tower gazing in the distance. Their watchful gaze was on Naerost, the old landmark just below the watch-tower. Once it seems to have been a great sight, now it's infested with orcs that came to the land, carrying out the foul orders of their master. Two of the three men stood motionless near an old pillar, and the third one sat on fallen part of it, resting his chin in his fist.