Found:
5 Silver death masks.
I took the small rowing boat out today. Packed myself a lunch, grabbed my gear and rowed out onto the lake. My bruises haven't faded yet, but they're starting too. Angry reds and resentful blue-blacks turning into sullen browns around the edges. It still aches, my back and shoulders, my jaw and ribs, but working through it has always been my way. Lessons learned long ago...
The map she gave me was crude at best, but I've done far more with far less. It took a while to reach the island in question; a small one to the south of Tyl Ruinen. It took a while yet to locate the hiding place, but I managed well enough. My forgetfulness of late does not seem to extend to the skills and knowledge I honed over so many years thankfully.
The masks themselves are exquisite. The craftsmanship involved is quite stunning; each face different to the last as if they were made specifically for the one who would wear them to their graves. Someone put a lot of time and effort into their making. Given that they were here, in this land, I can only assume that they are somehow connected to the Men who once ruled here and yet... if that is so, why then are the Angmarim so interested in their recovery? I'm missing something.
A puzzle for another day. For now, I need to secure these in the relative safety of my island house. There are six yet more to retrieve from elsewhere before the set, as she knows it, is complete.
Speaking of which, I've been sorting through some of the things that had been sent here. Toth managed to secure a crate of books and scrolls for me some months ago. Several are in dire need of restoration, the words too faded to read just yet, but given time I may be able to do something with them. One in particular caught my interests; an old tome of horse ancestry. Though it's lacking a cover and thus not immediately identifiable as the one Aelrid seeks, still it is worth taking to him just in case. If this is the one his mistress wants, then perhaps he can finally free himself from those bonds. Shackles of his own making maybe, but shackles all the same.
I'll go out again tomorrow if the weather holds. This lake is far from being a sea, but it is large enough to cause issue for a small rowing boat in the event of a storm.
I really don't like the look of those clouds.
