The scraping a blade against skin echoed throughout Syrioh's room as he slowly shaved off his beard. Each drag of his knife being slow, and methodical. Hair quickly filling the bucket he was using the clean the knife after every stroke. He was preparing himself for what he was setting out to do. What he had to do. He had to find her.
Notice: With the Laurelin server shutting down, our website will soon reflect the Meriadoc name. You can still use the usual URL, or visit us at https://meriadocarchives.org/









