Rainith

The silver-toothed comb passed smoothly through his thick dark hair, with only the faintest of rasping sounds; the usually coarse mane that he bore smoothed almost to silk. He had been combing it slowly for the past hour, the repetitive motion calming his mind and allowing the anger and frustration to flow out of him. As his thoughts became clearer, he began to think of the progress that they had made so far. They had left the valley of Imladris far behind and had journeyed south, across the High Moor and through passes that he did not know.

To the forges I went, and there I did find several people of the House of Vanimar waiting, Master Elloen among them, who was also taking his Oath.

I do not know how to begin this, as I do not know who will read it. At times I have seen others writing their own thoughts in such a way, and perhaps it is only now that I see the value of such a record. For even though I have no great wisdom to pass to those who come after me, I would still have them know of me. Maybe writing this down will grant me a little peace before the darkness overtakes us all, and the world ends in ruin. But how to start, that still eludes me. What would any wish to know of me?

“Sit down!” Rainith told Parnard. “If you keep hopping up and down, you will be worn out before we reach our destination.”

In a few days I shall mount my horse and depart for the Greenwood with the Lady Danel, Rainith, and Belegos; and being anxious to write a few lines before my departure in order that my lord be acquainted with the exact state of affairs, I beg l

Continued from: A Letter to the Lords Anglachelm and Veryacano; An Errand Unto Thee; A Hard Lesson; Unexpected Aid; The Shifting Paths; A Display of Character

Continued from Letter to Anglachelm and Veryacano: esteemed Lords of Bar-en-Vanimar

Pulling it from the sheath, I saw that the blade was indeed as she had described it; of good quality, but worn and needing care. I swung the sword with one hand, nodding with satisfaction that it still sang as it cleaved the air: the blade had life in it yet. Running my finger along the flat of the blade, I searched for the balance point. I shook my head slightly as I found it, far too far ahead of the guard. That would lead to overbalanced strikes, and would cause fatigue of the forearm quickly.