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Danel

When will I see him again?

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Artwork: AI Generated/Influenced

The last I saw him, we were prisoners in the hidden house of Lady Zairaphel in Angmar. We had been brought there through a long and arduous journey, and delivered, bound, by the remaining few brigands and the two Umbari. I thanked the Valar for the later. Had they not been with us we would have been in a far worse condition. 

Strangely, Zairaphel had us sit at a table and partake of a feast she had her Dwarf servant prepare. We could do little more than exchange glances with each other. No word could be spoken unheard by her. No sign given.

On to Lin Gilliath: Part Two

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Story

We parted with the Hobbits on Kingsfell around midday, them taking the faint and infrequently used path to Trestlebridge, Bree Town and then their home. We bid them a rather fond ‘farewell’, being a little concerned for their safety, but also knowing they were far from incapable. They were a tough and hardy folk at need. 

On to Lin Gilliath: Part One

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Story

I must have fallen asleep, resting back against Estarfin. No bumping of armour against armour this time, as I was clad in flimsy southern garb, but with his thick cloak wrapped round me. It was comfortable for me, more so than anywhere else I had been for several weeks. 

The Road is behind, and Home ahead.

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Story

We rode with them Elves as far as the North Downs. Them took a turnin’ ter what they said was an Elven Haven. A place where the Lady could get a horse and some more suitable clothes. Not that I thought she or Lord Estarfin minded riding together, but the poor horse likely had a long journey ahead, an’ would do better with just one rider. Norlomë was her name. I liked her, even though she be very tall. Henepa liked her too. 

 

The Rescue: Part Two

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Story

“I can tell ‘em about it, if yer like Lady?” Gaisarix moved closer to me. He was still quite shaky on his legs, and his hair and clothing seemed a touch singed, but he didn’t seem as weak as I was. He had had a rough time as a captive himself, and from watching how others, particularly Henepa, had been treated. But he was of sturdy stock, and wanted to help if he could. 

The Rescue: Part One

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Story

I reached out, even though what was left to me of clear thought told me he could not be there. Caranthir was long since in the Halls of Mandos. But something about ‘seeing’ him stoked up my spirit. Would he have ever given in, that cousin of mine? 

Into Angmar: Part Four.

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Story

Henepa looked apologetically at the elves. They were not unmoved by her predicament, her ragged and filthy clothes and her pain shadowed eyes, but they had their own quest, their own folk to rescue urgently. 

The Captain nodded at the water skin. “Keep it,” he said to her.

Into Angmar. Part Three.

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Story

Estarfin halted beside the bodies of the other Men. Dismounting briefly, he took up two half-filled water skins and a handful of gold coins from the corpses. He took a cautious sip from one water-skin then, with a look of unexpected surprise, drank a mouthful or two. He held the skin out to the others. 

In her Thoughts. Part Six.

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Story

The storm of the previous night had been fierce, almost as if foreshadowing a mighty clash of arms. Rain had struck the roofs of the fortress and the surrounding ground like the arrows of an attacking army; trees as strong as any senchenal were battered, their limbs ripped from them, some even fell under the continued assault. In my room in the tower I had felt like hiding away under the bed, I had wanted to hide, but it just would not do.

Into Angmar. Part Two.

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Story

Estarfin nodded as the houses behind him went up in flames. The village of dry wood would burn until nothing was left but a pile of ashes, and perhaps a poisonous haze.

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