Imladris

Dear Gwanûr,

The weather was seasonably warm and the windows had been thrown open to let the breeze into the lofty hall, where the students sat attentively at their tables. Eliriael stood at the front, her summer-green robes billowing at her feet and yellow wildflowers tucked neatly into her hair. She had a couple sheafs of parchment that fluttered with the breeze in her delicate hands, as she spoke to the students.

The sun slowly came up and the Vale of Imladris started lighting up. After his meeting with Faorie, Thendryt had walked Bovad over the bridge and around the settlement.
They stopped on a height that overlooked the entire Vale. A gentle breeze lifted his cloak slightly from the ground.
There was a slight mist forming around the Elven architecture, and around the rivers around it. Thendryt realized that the scenery was something that his own kind would write poems and sing songs about.

((OOC Note: This generally is Braigion's thoughts for the last few Role-Play sessions that have occurred. Not really a diary (since he can't read or write (yet), but reflecting of what has happened so far, which is kind of like a diary thing, right? There is not much other place for me to put this so... :l sorry for misuse of 'What kind of Adventure is this?'))

Dear Gwanûr,

To the Lord Ambassador of Bar-en-Vanimar Parnard,

It is with a heavy heart that I write this letter to you. When your lordship left for the Hithaeglir, little did I know that my duty would require me to bear sad tidings to you through my letters. I had one in progress since the last report I sent, and it consisted of all important matters, such as the latest speculations of the valley folk and the tale of an escaped chicken from the kitchens, but the contents of that report matter very little now.

To the Lord Ambassador of Bar-en-Vanimar Parnard,