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Estarfin

Falling Stars

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

The moon hath no fixed course, and is wayward, and wanders about the heavens among the innumerable stars that glare and wink out. It said that some of the best and brightest of these have fallen from their place to the earth and are sunk in darkness forever. Some folk are like these fiery stars, and shine for a time, and when they fall, they cannot recover their places, so their light is forever extinguished. There will never be any more brightness or comfort again from their radiance, and they leave behind a deep blackness of gloom, that which was first before the stars were ever made.

Tears of a Brother

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Elloen was still in Lórien, and once again a guest to his uncle Feamiril and aunt Linnen, sitting next to the table in his thoughts, though he didn't have much time, since he had promised to lady Danel return to his companions soon.

Brought Low

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

Today Lord Estarfin recognized me, which is something. We dare not allow him any liberty, having no trust in him, he being in much perplexity and confusion. As far as anyone else can see, he is just like everybody else in the city, and wears no longer his green gem circlet or his black armour, but is clad in a simple white robe. He is very neat and clean in appearance, and we see that his hair is combed smooth, and Lord Estarfin seems outwardly calm and pleasant.

At the Close

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

As I wait, the sun slips slowly down behind the trees, so that the leaves blush with rosy light. I light the lamps myself, kindling each small flame one by one. In the gathering darkness, the stone maiden stares out into the distance she cannot see, one hand always reaching out, expression lost in shadow. I sit cross-legged on the soft grass, listening to the sound of the waterfall just a few feet away. It doesn't completely mask the approaching footsteps, but I do not turn until I feel the hand drop lightly to my shoulder.

Merry Madness

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

I saw Rainith and Lord Belegos wander off together, she looking betwixt us, and m

A Few Words of Comfort

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

The shrill cry of a hawk pierces the cold morning air before the bird itself comes into view. It is dark brown with a golden beak, and it begins to circle lower and lower, down from the mountain peaks. Finally, with hardly a sound it lands nearby, a thin roll of parchment clasped in one clawed foot.

Suilad Lady Danel,

Tokens and Letters

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Elloen woke up early, since he could not sleep well. He was lying uncomfortably on the ground as others around him prepared for the departure, and he rose up. Danel seemed still concerned about Estarfin, as was Elloen. Except for a one strange answer Estarfin already seemed to have a clear mind, though he would not have anything to drink or eat.

Led Astray

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

“Why is Rainith not with us?" Estarfin asked Danel again.

Did this blockhead not understand anything? wondered Parnard. He spread his embroidery out before him and lifted up his wineskin. “Ai!” he gasped.

“What is it?” said Danel.

Observations: Parnard

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

I am not entirely sure whether Parnard drives me to amusement or madness.

He sits here even now, stitching away, as is his wont. I have tried a number of times to make out the depiction of the threads but to no avail. They seem to be a cluster of colours to my eyes. Doubtless he sees things differently.

Observations: Estarfin

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Now that I have mentioned him previously, I feel it is only proper to write his entry. I am of course talking of Estarfin. That angry, sorry soul who even now sits there, brooding.
There are many (Parnard chief among them) who dislike Estarfin. More likely they fear him, for he is a grim fellow. A great looming presence, all dressed in black with his great war-spear in his hand. Perhaps even I might be wary of him if I did not count him as my brother.

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