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Vinyalonde

Gathering News From A Wounded Scout

What type of content is this?: 
Screenshot: General screen

 

A maze of narrow pathways. Large webs, covering rocks and undergrowth like lurking scars.

A small camp. Nine elves. One of them injured, having barely escaped with his life.

At the Edge of the Scuttledells

What type of content is this?: 
Screenshot: Event screen

The company speaks with Ivorel and Glorhir at the elf camp at the edge of the Scuttledells.

Beneath Ost Galadh

What type of content is this?: 
Screenshot: Event screen

The elves who arrived at Ost Galadh at the request of the Malledhrim decide they must scout northwards first for any signs of the orc party they seek.

The Sixth Journal Entry - Musings with a Dwarf

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

~Menelya, Coirë 23~

 

Ered Luin Market - Elves And Dwarves Trading Their Crafts

What type of content is this?: 
Screenshot: General screen

 

Supplies, tools, natural resources, pieces of art, weapons, ingredients of all sorts, food, drinks, clothes, precious stones and metals, many curiosities, good advice and exchange of the latest news:

Mereth Iavas - Feast of Autumn

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Screenshot: General screen

 

"Through the gates of Celondim I stepped

and found laughter and merriment there.

Crops and fruits and bounty of harvest I saw

and many fair folk, adorned by the stars."

Mereth Bragollach - Lament Of The Sindar

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry

((for the previous part of the story, click here))

 

 

"Thus ended the Siege of Angband; and the foes of Morgoth were scattered and sundered one from another. The most part of the Grey-elves fled south and forsook the northern war."

An Unwitting Farewell

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

[First Age of the Sun, Year 455. Thargelion. Three days before the beginning of the Dagor Bragollach, Battle of Sudden Flame]

 

Under The Skies Of Lothlann

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Screenshot: General screen

 

...and at times of leisure he would ride through the open plains of Lothlann, and a harsh wind made the grass move like waves of sand, and the clouds like shreds of scattered laughter.

And under a sky so wide, so large, he knew he was home, for he belonged to Middle-Earth.

 

 

 

Tired of Fighting

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

*Written with Nirhen [Rainith]*

He spat a mouthful of blood and saliva onto the patchy grass of the training field; his lungs burning from exertion. His limbs felt like lead weights and sweat ran from his brow down his face. He looked at the blunt training sword laying in the damp grass and steeled himself for the effort to reach down and pick it up.

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