Danel

Parnard and Danel had not been long in town, and were huddled together in conversation about their plan to visit Lord Cirdan, and what to do next, when they heard a cheerful voice calling to them.

“I did not expect such illustrious company to respond to my request,” said a fair-haired elf who was quickly approaching.

(After Another Day at the Beach | The Laurelin Archives by Parnard.)

Estarfin felt the brief resistance of cloth and flesh before the beautiful blade nearly bisected the dark figure. He kicked the almost-lifeless body from his sword, flicked the blade back, taking the misshapen head from the thing, then watched with fierce satisfaction as it slumped to the floor. Another wrong righted, another of their wicked race wiped clean from the spheres of Arda. He raised his crimson blade to the stars, a gesture of both reverence and defiance.

By the time Parnard decided he had enough of rock diving, the stars were fading, and the skies above the sea were turning pallid with the whitening dawn. He swam back to where he had left Danel and Estarfin floating in the shallower waters, not really swimming at all. The three elves, desirous of rest, waded out of the surf to dry themselves on the beach.

(To be read after The Music Lesson - Part 2 | The Laurelin Archives by Parnard)
 

I stepped out onto the narrow path directly in front of Gilastor. With swift management, Estarfin halted the mighty warhorse a few feet from me. He met my eyes with an expression that would have feared most folk. He was furious.