esteldin

It was a cold winter, especially moreso in the northern regions such as the woods of Annúndir that resided between the Fields of Fornost and Kingsfell. Despite the temperature, the day was glowing, but the sun hid behind a mask of clouds. It was to be expected as light comes with heat, and if heat was masked so should light.

Esteldin felt almost empty, with the Dunedains and their allies gathered, preparing for a journey further South. Yes, Grey Company was needed elsewhere, but the North was far from being safe. Many of the Rangers knew that and they left their beloved lands with a heavy heart.

The Wyld Hunt was always there and their allies could always count on the Wolves help, but the Pack was far from numerous. Spread around Eriador and beyond, the Hunt overextended and needed new eyes and teeth themselves.

Once they arrived at Esteldin, the rain had stopped and the morning sun was shining through the grey clouds. The rangers trudged up the muddy path to the hidden stronghold, dragging the heavy bound orc with them.

Ivorneth fired at the crowd of orcs, moving with the other two archers to find better positions as the fight swirled. They aimed carefully, not wanting to hit one of their own men.