Norliriel

Manadhlaer's Diary: The Unshakable Feeling

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

Dear Diary,

The feet of fate

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Daeruth felt as though she had become useful again, since being ostracised for mushroom picking and accused of treasure seeking in some ruins that scout Filegris asked her to stay away from, Hiril Tingruviel had requested she attend Lady Ealendil and Master Maedhrathin at the old school of Mirobel, the pair were wed and Daeruth let them chatter about inconsequential things while she studied the scraps of old knowledge for anything of interest, seperating to cover more area each spent time making notes, moving further into what she assumed was an old master's room or assembly h

Manadhlaer’s Diary: A Dreadful End

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

Dear Diary,

Well, that was painful in a way I had not pictured. 

I shall not reproduce here the autopsy report, which is really only for Tûr anyway, since the body of my beloved husband-brother was witnessed by Tingruviel, Elvealin, Tindir, Estarfin, and Veryacano, and assisted by my twin star Norliriel. None of them should have had to see Daegond so. 

Dear Diary: I Never Thought I'd Need So Many People

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

Dearest Themodir --

Do you remember that day, where you are now? It is five years since that terrible day. So little time, merely an eyeblink. 

I remember it exactly. I do not know why, but I was wearing a white dress with matching roses in my hair. I think I must have been looking forward to your arrival home from the mountain assignment. A simple supply run, you said. 

A test of spear, or wisdom?

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Nandutiriel did not need to keep watch over her sleeping comrades -- not even the gentle ones, híril Norliriel and the mysterious Elloen -- for plenty of sentinels with bows, even at night, peered down hawkishly and roamed the stones of Echad Mirobel.

Yet she could no more have rested than she could have flapped her arms and flown like Elloen's beautiful white eagle. Her mind was awhirl.

Letter To Lord Anglachelm

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Greetings my Lord Anglachelm,

I would like you to know that we wish to take a journey to Eregion for a few reasons for what has transpired in the past few days. One is Lady Himwen wishing to train her recruits there. The other is quite personal to me.

Relics?

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Screenshot: Event screen

After a meeting about letting the house of Feamiril out to Vanimar, lord Anglachelm, Feamiril, lady Manadhlaer, Norliriel, Fingwe and Tingruviel all witnessed a message delivered by one of Sorontars owls. Finally, some news!!

The Colour Red

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

I heard a knock on my door and when I opened it, my uncle Fëamíril was behind it since he had finally arrived from Lothlórien. We has down for a cup of tea and to talk about a thing or few. He asked me why I hadn’t painted for such a long time, but the reason it something that I’m not willing to openly admit yet. ”I need more pratise,” I answered. ”No artist is truly ever finished and perfect.” It was vague, but it was also true and something that I believed in, also for myself.

A Rare Moment of Soil and Bliss

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Manadhlaer, Lady of the Order of the Pillar and of the Houses of Healing, looked most unladylike as she crawled on all fours around her garden. Indeed, dirty as she was, she would have resembled a giant shrew at a distance, had she a tail. As she was not so endowed, she merely resembled a garden-variety gardener as she crawled around her yard, making sure that each precious athelas start got its grip in the rich Imladris soil. Someone drawing near would have heard her humming an unmistakably lovely tune they had not heard before.

The Memory Seed: A Song, A Dream, A Silver Swan

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

Diary, Diary, Diary. I have so much to explain.

Through the yéni, the Vanyar and others have nurtured a song that, when sung to one asleep, heals the fëa through dreams. One travels, often in the form of an animal -- some soar as eagles, or even sea-birds as if they had taken form like Elwing. And one sees, or does not. One looks upon Valinor. 

So it was that I loosed my girdle, unlocked the door to my house, and lay down in bed to let my mind wander. I had one question in mind, and only one.

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