Xandilif

In the uncertain torchlight of Gath Forthnir, the aging dwarf read the letter for at least the twentieth time. Somewhere far in the distance, something massive shrieked loudly enough to be heard through the walls of living stone.

I have risen early, slipped into a robe and wandering up to the gleaming Dwarrow Mirror high above Tol Lochul to greet the dawn. Stars are still gleaming in the velvet blue sky as I reach my perch, arrange my implements, and begin to draft this account. 

The gentle strains of harp music flowed over the Hall of Fire like soothing water. The light from the setting sun was further softened as it filtered through the high boughs of the trees of Imladris, finally casting lengthening shadows from high windows in the Last Homely House. Another day, in a near eternal string of days, was coming to a soft spoken, genteel end.

“What…what by the horde of Ancalagon goes on here!!!” shouted Gareth Steelheart, Captain of the Hounds of Anarion as he stood surveying the wreckage of the upstairs chamber of the Thirsty Seer.

Over Gareth’s shoulder, the barkeep Emery surveyed the room with dismay. “You maniacs...do you know how much this flooring COST ME!!!????'

The screams formed into a guttural voice as a fell spirit rose up out of the tokens and the shards of the blade. "FINALLLLLLYYY!!! It took you WORMS long enough!!!!

Xanderian woke slowly, from dreams of darkness and anxiety. Strange flowing blends of dread and an almost erotic anticipation that left her unsettled in a myriad of ways. As her eyes opened, she heard voices nearby at the map table, and rose up on her elbows in the silken sheets for a better view.

Some days are just a gordamned nightmare, and just when ya think you woke up and everything is ok, somebody peels their own face off and you are right back in the crazy.

I don’t normally do this kind of diary thing, this is more my sister’s conceit…but I got time to kill and a lot of this crazy to get through.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

(The events of this story take place several months before the events of A Dream of Moonlight, or A Dirge in Red - The humble chronicler of the Stranded Sisters)