Veryacano

Tonight I sit sleepless, and look into the night about me, dark, terrible things lurk there, and often the dread comes over me, that I feel my reason is overpowered, and my senses are bewildered. Abandoned to evil spirits, we are, we who followed because duty demanded it, because we swore to serve. How can we believe that our well-doing has availed anything? All our labors have met with failure, all good for nothing. We only seem to fill up every place with our trouble and strife. Behold the works of the proud Noldor!

Parnard ran on, keenly alive to the new sights and smells of this new land – on and on, chanting an ancient song under his breath, in time to his paces.

Sing the joys of vagabonding,

All that’s beautiful travels far.

Elves have an inexhaustible stock of songs and ballads, but this air was rude and simple, consisting of only a few notes. It was one of the songs sung in the Greenwood when he was young. He had not thought of it for years. Why now did he remember it, singing it to himself?

Even the moon colored pearl

While sitting next to a bush, waiting to see if something else would happen, my thoughts were  going in circle over the events of the day. I already completed a list of the plants and healing supply I used and I was currently contemplating just leaving the camp on my own in search for some heal herbs that were quite easy to find in any area with no extreme weather.

His heavy boots crunched slowly along the pile of scree at the bottom of the hill as he trudged after the others. There was no spring to his step, no sense of the furious purpose he had possessed only hours before. He had been robbed of his relentless drive by the demands of battle and the anger that had burned inside of him like a consuming flame. For now his hatred has been assuaged, quenched in the blood of these lowest of Men. For what are the Men of this land but little more than mindless beasts? A land of Men looked down upon even by the other Kingdoms of Men. Gondor, Rohan.

The Ranger Baradír pulled out a stack of maps from a dusty shelf and smoothed them out on the table before him. “This is one of our best, drawn only a decade ago. It completely renders all the lands and roads of Rhovanion, in proper scale, and includes both major and minor settlements, all clearly labeled." Parnard gave it a cursory glance, munching on a cheese wheel stuck on the end of his eating-knife.

Parnard lay in a half-dream, his thoughts back in Imladris, beside the warmth of the fires. Earlier that day, the elves reached a ruined dwelling, roofless, its timbers brittle, charred. Yet another farmstead, burned down to the foundations. Even in this vast wilderness, hundreds of miles from any elvish settlement, those savages had found them, and had cut them down a few feet from their doorstep. Gnawed bones lay scattered around. When the scent of slaughter is wafted on the breezes, bands of hungry Wargs hasten from every side to the feast.

To lady Rainith and the folk of Imladris,

The grey light of dawn did little to lift his spirits as he shivered and brushed the morning dew from his armour, feeling the cold water soak into the leather of his gauntlets as he did so. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he looked around the camp searching for the remains of a fire to warm himself with. Seeing nothing, he cursed to himself and stood slowly, stretching his limbs and testing his shield arm. It still felt weak but it was not seriously damaged at least. He peered around at his companions; some were sleeping still, a few were sitting and sorting through their gear.

The fairest gift of strength is clemency

If the weak offend;

So kindly do not punish me

For having the fault of a friend.

When an ambassador leaves a court in a hurry, there is much talk, especially when this news comes following the tragic event of the ambassador’s lord falling into the hands of the enemy. It was now clear to most everyone in the Valley that Parnard had objected to the plans of the Lord Veryacano, for he had declared often, publically and privately, that it was a most reckless act of desperation that ought to have been reconsidered, but alas!