Alas, it seems that fortune is not on my side afterall. Setting out from Imladris the fair, whom as always, I leave with heavy heart, I travelled west, seeking to pass the Last Bridge and head to Duillond and start my search for my beloved there. It was not to be so. As I neared the bridge, I was met with a hail of arrows. My shield took most of them but one sought home in my left shoulder, The pauldron keeping me from sustaining serious injury. I charged them on my steed and after slaying the ambushers, I sought high ground. The sight was truly something to behold, and it struck my heart with most dire worry. From my vantage point, I could see vast encampments of the enemy. The air hung heavy with the stench of their filth. I would assume they arrived by passing through hidden paths in the hills and mountains. But how this host managed to come this far unnoticed, I did not know. I got back on my steed, and rode hard back towards Imladris. Indeed the host may still be a few days away, yet I worry the defenses will not hold.
My worries were reaffirmed. Upon my return, An assembly had been called, to deal with a looming threat in the south. An army from the depths of Isengard were marching north with the intent of striking Eriador. The situation is so dire the Order of the Hammer of Vanimar is being recalled from the Misty Mountains to march south. Indeed I wonder if this has not all been to the plan. The timing of these movements seem coordinated. A host of orcs from the north to strike from the west, and the armies of the White Hand from the south. For now all that can be done is to wait. The host to the west must be defeated, for their lines I cannot pass. And I must seek my beloved.
My concern reached deaf ears, I must seek what support I can, and join with the sons of Elrond near the Ford, and await the onslaught.
