Parnard

When I came back to the place we were given to rest in Caras Galadhon, there was no one here. I had no idea where to find lord Estarfin, and so I took the time to care for my instrument. I was playing a melody when I was finally joined by the others.

It was nice to be able to play once again without a care in the world. Without wondering if the sound was attracting beasts or men to us. I'd have kept on playing if lord Veryacano didn't joined us as well to talk of what we were going to do.

Numerous beyond counting, the stars reflected upon the surface of the lake could have been a second sky, so clear was the image. Watching them in silence brought a sense of peace to Estarfin such as he had not felt for a long time. His breathing was slow, his coarse hair shifting slightly in the cool breeze that rippled across the surface of the water. As he stared at the black mirror bathed in starlight, memories came to the forefront of his mind of Lake Helevorn in the green lands of Thargelion and the joys of an all-too-brief childhood spent upon the shore.

Today was quite interesting. In several ways I'd say.

We made our way to a meeting place to join again lord Veryacano who was apparently scouting to... Cross a river again. I am sincerely hoping that we will not have to swim, for my bag is not entirely waterproof. Only the bag around my flute is and that will not protect the whole content of my bag and I do not plan to lose what healing herbs I have nor the bandages nor... Food. Again.

They moved quickly from the deep shadows and despair of the dungeons into a small courtyard full of broken stone. Belegos led them out, moving with almost indecent haste to escape what they had done, had been forced to do. As he reached the middle of the courtyard he seemed to realise his mistake, as his sharp eyes scanned the empty windows and rough holes that had been delved into the high walls surrounding the open space. Nothing stirred in the silence, but the scout did not let his guard down.

It has been a long time since I last wrote anything. We had some very busy few days lately. However today was the worst. I am really beginning to hate healing anyone wearing an armor. Sadly when I look around me everyone wears one, even myself.

It looks like this.

Close to the bank of the river, a cluster of trees spread their branches above a pool of shade. In the gathering darkness, the figure hidden there is motionless, almost invisible in the gloom. A lone bird sings its farewell to the sun as it soars overhead. The wind casts a series of ripples across the surface of the water, breaking and re-breaking the reflection of the trees. All is still. If you did not have the ears of an elf, you might almost think it was a peaceful scene.

Estarfin slapped his hand away, surprised and angered by his presumption. Parnard looked taken aback at the reaction, and sat back down next to the small fire, holding his hands out before the orange flames to warm them.

It was a good morning to go search for some fresh eggs. I had seen a wild hen walking around when we arrived, and there she was again. I do not think she was happy of me taking her eggs, but the Elves in the camp were waking up and there would be nothing better for them to have with their bread than eggs and some tea from Rivendell, from the very last leaves of it. I also used a kettle to get some cleaner looking water from the nearby stream – it would be all boiled, after all.

Talkale sat back in the leather chair, looking down at the letter with some pride. As usual the penmanship was perfect, the curved script that he used and the crisp, white paper pleasing to his practiced eye. Smiling with satisfaction, he read over the letter, sitting with his hands crossed in his lap.

Dear Lord Elrond,

I lie down and look at the rest of the company around me, and I felt each one being alone with their own thoughts. Lord Veryacano had told us to watch over the massive camp of dunlendings warriors while he considered Parnard's idea of sending his falcon down.