Danel

It appears I do not have to cook much today. There are still much food after the feast of unveiling Anglachelm's portrait, and I have to get yet rid of some of it, somehow.

In the Hall of Fire elves gathered, summoned by their Lord Anglachelm.

The stories are never enough.

No matter how famous people are, their skill can be only verified and experienced in a personal encounter.

"I shall brush him as if the Dagor Dagorath itself would be coming! Ha ha!"

"Ha ha!" Parnard joined in. "Raolor was only jesting. As I thought," he said, glancing over his shoulder. Norliriel was hurt and being tended to a short distance away underneath an oak tree. Excusing himself to Ráolor and the rest, he wandered over to see how she fared. 

I am laying down in the Imladris Valley, enjoying the colours of the dusk. They do not call this place as a refuge or sanctuary for no reason, each time the leaves rest in the lack of wind and sun sets down like this, I truly feel peaceful. From far off I hear music, quiet but clear.

"Had the scholars at Thargelion been tardy, they would have soon found themselves in one of the northern forts," Danel whispered to him.

Parnard nodded, unable to reply, because the small group of elves was staring at him. The coolness of the morning air was faded; there was no time to spare. 

So spoke the Kinslayer,

Mindful of hardships,

Of fierce slaughters,

And the downfall of Kinsmen.