war

Nathion,

I hope fortune keeps favouring you these days, as it did in the past.

I recently acquired a shipment of interesting trinkets, which I believe would fetch a good price in the southern markets.

Sail to the ruins of Lond Daer, and I shall meet you there.

Regards,

Crow

Dear diary,

After the kinslaying in Menegroth, my family had joined me in Gondolin, but not for long. Nearly three years after that, Gondolin itself was besieged.

Together we marched, mile after endless mile
Through fields of death, and mountains of fire
Not once did it fade, our smile
As we pushed, ever higher

Together, we raised our fists to the sky
We screamed out our lungs, 'our cause shall never die'
Against all odds we did try
Who dares now our victory to deny?

Apart, we mourned for those we had lost
We cried, we grieved, we faded away

The man sat upon a stone, pipe between his lips that loosed wispy clouds of cherry tobacco. Softly humming as he flipped the sizzling bacon on the skillet, looking over to his companion. A bear of a man, hair a dulled silver but yet his face hadn't seen more than thirty winters. Several markings decorated his face, most notably a band of blue runes reaching from cheek bone to cheek bone, bridging over his nose.

His body felt broken, his mouth tasted of sand and blood, still salty from the rivers water. He struggled to maintain conciousness and tried to push himself up from the cold shore. 

Red really does look simple.