Angmar

The company of House Bar-en-Acharn departed Falathlorn two days after the council, bound for the hidden refuge of Esteldin on the North Downs.  Several of the Household had already departed, with the word that they would converge upon the Dunedain sanctuary in one week’s time.  A vanguard led by Catrena had departed the previous day, intending to meet with members of the Blackburrow Trading Compa

The cold wind licked the earth and shook the burnt banners and tents that remained standing. The once great fort now stood abandoned and even colder than it was, it also seemed scarier and darker, but it was the only place that the tribesmen could camp on their journey. They were all huddled between the burnt buildings at a distance from the gates.

“Ye know. Lassie, sometimes I reckon fate has it in for me! Y’know what I mean? Findin’ an Elf, in this burned piece of land? What’s and Elf doin’ her an’way? They’ve got no trees here. Perhaps... Aye, perhaps he got all sad ‘n’ the like, methinks he was goin’ to the sea but got lost? He’s not exactly bright, from what Breezelooker told me.” 
 

You really messed up now, Crownlight.

The young Silvan cursed his own antics silently, biting his lip, daring not to make a sound. It was quite a curious scene to behold: the small form of the wood elf covered in mud and dead grass fazed between the tents of the Yrch camp, not a step to be heard as he moved, his muddied robes matching the dirt beneath him. 

(Finally moved under the appropriate character)