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"I hear people talk about the "flaming eye" a lot, referring to the appearance of the Dark Lord. But there is another flaming eye, older than the current Dark Lord, one that does not seek to destroy, instead nurture life, one which is not evil but good, one which is beautiful, not terrifying. We see it every day peeking out of the clouds and we call it Sun, not Sauron"
Seronaer leant on her father’s spear, his shield slung across her back as she marched, bent beneath her burdens and her troubles. Long had the march been, over perilous, grinding ice and through bitter, frozen winds. The great hills of ice crashing together as the water beneath them tossed and turned, jolting their host forwards and backwards.
Eodarl Eothaine, third son of Theogard, sitting proud and strong upon his faithfull horse, Tûrlӧch, on a grassy hill, somewhere in the north parts of Bree-land. His cloak waves in the gentle breeze and the sun reflects his power and faith!
I thail nín thithin erin Amar • My small feet on the ground Bain! • Wonderful! Mathon i lith da thellyn nín • Feeling the sand against my soles limp a rhing •• Wet and cold.