Fiesty starts her Journey

Copper waited at Fiesty’s burrow entrance for her to do some last-minute packing. He joked with the scout he had picked to help him guard his aunt on their way to Calenhad. He was Tobo Sackville, a good swordsman, if a little hot headed. He was the son of Folco Sackville- but Copper did not hold that against him.
Copper:  “Women do take a lot of time packin don’t they?” 
Tobo: “It does seem so.”
Copper: “You got eveythin yer need?”
Tobo: “I am packed and ready. Me dad gave me his own sword fer the trip!”
Copper: “That right? That were big of him.”

Fiesty came out then tucking her medicine and the objects she would need for the ceremony she wanted to do into her pack. Then they proceeded toward the bridge to River Lands.
Fiesty: “I did get a letter from Lady Amethyst sayin she has sent an Elven guard to meet us at the bridge.”

Fiesty was wrapped up in her green cloak against the chill of the season. She shivered, but it was more than the chill that brought that on. There were many reports of Drow sightings In the River Lands and Calenhad, and the danger was escalating.
The three travelers got to the bridge and were greeted on the River Lands side by a lovely Elven warrior. She introduced herself as Irime, and she was assigned to accompany them to the Lady Amethyst and back again to the Shire.
Copper and Tobo bowed to the guard and Fiesty saw a glitter in Copper’s eye that made her sigh.

Irime, the Elven Ranger greets the Hobbits

They proceeded through the River Lands country and passed by farms and fertile fields. The wind was balmy and the flowers fragrant in the Druid King’s lands. At one point Fiesty could see Kat’s Gypsy Wagon in the distance and yearned to visit with the elusive lady. But she was committed to her errand and time was precious. Soon they crossed the Memorial Bridge and were in Calenhad. The guard guided them down a path to a handsome home by a beautiful waterfall. Fiesty knocked on the door...

To be continued...

Winter Solstice (Yule) Ceremony at the River Lands Henge

Excerpts from the Winter Solstice (Yule) Ceremony at the River Lands Henge

The Altar Ready for Yule

Jaekob Faolan moves through space and time. His spirit leaves the halls of the ancients and travels to stand with his family at the Henge. He appears and pauses before he begins, looking from one to the other with a gentle smile and then begins to speak.

Yule is the end of the solar year and the beginning of the new one. Traditionally, the end of the year is a time to look back and reflect. It is a time to look ahead to the future, to make plans and set goals. In your heart choose a goal for the coming year.

Archdruid Fiesty

Fiesty Lotus: Cold winds have blown away our fertile thoughts, Dark and silent nights have stilled our tongues. Snow and ice have cooled our minds

Fitheach Eun: Frozen earth has held our thoughts captive; Inspiration, return to us, as the sun returns!

Master Druid Jaekob and Ambassador Saphira Behind the Altar

Jaekob Faolan: Today, the sun is renewed. The long descent into darkness is ended, the long night is halfway over. We look forward at this time, remembering what we have done, knowing what we will do

All: Hail the Sun

Fae Talia and Archdruid Fitheach

Fiesty Lotus: We have made offerings to the sun, And to all of the elements that support us. 

Fitheach Eun: Accept our offerings, Bring the sun back for another bright year.

Jaekob Faolan: Now is the time for any of our guests to add their thoughts, prayers and observations; does anyone wish to speak? Jaekob Faolan waits quietly, humbly for any to speak.

Can Wobbit Speaks

Talia.Sunsong: Thanks the sun and elements for creating this land and a place for us to meet

Kathena Mavendorf: I pray to the sun, for it to shine light in the darkness and show us the way when we are lost

Can Wobbit: as a simple soul and farmer, I bid the sun be friendly on all lands, but have a special eye on the Riverlands, lightening dark places that might need some light in the future.

The Ceremony

Jaekob Faolan: Let us now commit our goals to the Yule Log and send them up to the spirit world.

Talia.Sunsong focuses on the Yule log and speaks her goals in her heart

Fitheach Eun walks to the yule log and speaks her goal inwardly

Saphira Mistwalker walks to the Yule log and speaks: “By all that I am, by diplomacy or by force, I will aid in seeing peace in this land.”

Fiesty Lotus closes her eyes and says a silent thanks for family

Jaekob Faolan looks around the gathering, a simple nod to his family. He turns to face the center, and says, 'May there be peace throughout the whole world'.

Yuletide Wishes from all the River Landers

 It's been an amazing year for all our members and friends here at 

the River Lands Medieval Fantasy Roleplay Community.

We would like to thank everyone for their support and companionship, the energy and imagination that each person brought to our regions and roleplay.

May your holidays be safe, full of love and laughter and we look forward to another exciting (New) Year here in the Great Canadian Grid.

*** Merry Christmas ~ Happy Yuletide ***

Evienne on the Prowl

Evienne duLac drapes herself picturesquely on the soft grass beneath Calenhad and converses animatedly with the blue whale circling the rocks just beyond the coastline...

The low hum coming from the majestic creature of the deep makes the Lady of the Lake suddenly perk up and glance swiftly over her shoulder towards Druid Cottage, where the Elven King resides with his simpering mate.
Evienne scrunches up her petite nose and blows a wisp of her newly strawberry toned hair out of her face, "ugh, that dull, mousy human. The Nymphs only know what the Elven King sees in her," she continues in her most self righteous manner, "...and truth be told, I would make such a perfectly wonderful Queen of these wondrous Lands... which are almost as luscious and magical as I am!"

Her attention is suddenly focused solely on the white figure positioned outside the door to the Cottage and she rises slowly, a haphazard wave of thanks towards the whale who had directed her attention to the Elven Ranger standing guard just across the waters and she takes to the air, landing gracefully only a few feet in front of the warrior. 

"Why, hello there, strapping white-clad Elf," she purrs, arranging her snowy cape, "It seems we have much the same taste in fashion... we are practically in partner look!" 
The outrageous Faerie flashes him her most seductive smile and runs her hands down her near naked torso, before unnecessarily adjusting her cape again....

Arvellon narrows his eyes, glaring with disdain at the brazen Fae, but gestures quickly to his Ranger colleagues to remain at their posts as they begin to approach.
"Quel re, my Lady. You would be wise to depart from here, there have been Drow sightings if you have not heard," the regal Elf utters smoothly.

Evienne gives him a dazzling smile and arranges her lovely features into the picture of alarm before replying smugly, "ooh, Drow sightings, how that sets my heart racing! Only too good that I have found you then, my virile Elven friend... I'm sure you would do anything to protect me from the terror of being ravished by dark forces!"

The Elf lets out an inaudible sigh, continuing evenly, "My brethren and I endeavour to protect all the citizens of these Lands, my Lady. The danger is not unimagined at present and we have little time for Faerie pranks and wiles."

Evienne raises an eyebrow, yet never one to be put off lightly, she coquettishly lowers herself to the ground at Arvellon's feet, gazing up at him artfully, her lips attractively arranged in a pout, "oh, stuff and nonsense, White Elf. Let us begin our... liaison... once again and properly introduce ourselves." 
The impulsive Fae throws him a seductive look from under her lashes and one bejeweled hand rests importantly on her oppulent chest, "I am Evienne duLac, or the Lady of the Lake, if you prefer. My lineage and history is as noble as your own, if not more illustrious and I could be mistaken...," here she pauses, shakes her tresses in negation, then continues, "...no, I am never mistaken... so, I am QUITE certain that a mutual bond would be most beneficial to both of us!"

Arvellon stares down at Evienne, unsure as how to avoid the intimation of the famed Fae without being rude and holds out his hand to her, although his words remain cool, "Rise, my Lady. It is not appropriate that one of your stature parades herself in such a fashion. I am Arvellon, White Elf of Calenhad. It is my duty to protect these Lands and I would advise that you return to the safety of your Otherworld, at least until the Drow threat has been contained."

Evienne's attitude becomes instantaneously icy. She boldly rejects his outstretched hand and with abrupt alacrity, stands upright and moves unexpectantly to settle right behind Arvellon's shoulder, her otherwise sweet voice resonating frostily directly near his ear, "White Elf, you would be wise not to underestimate me. I may appear insipid or vapid to you, but alas, as yet these Lands have not proven to be adequately stocked with creatures of intellectual prowess to match my own. My proposition might have proven mutually... um, let's see... satisfying to us both!?! I have nothing to fear from damnable Drow, my lifespan has seen hordes of these malevolent creatures come and go, and yet, you are too arrogant to consider how fruitful a collaboration between our races could be. That is the fatal flaw of most Elves."

She steps silently away from the suprised Elf and taking once again to the air, hovers at close range, her eyes piercing his with their intensity, "Namárië, Arvellon White Elf, may you be blessed with my presence at a more opportune time and NOT when you are in the direst of need."

And with that passing farewell, the renowned Fae glides elegantly back across the waters and disappears into the myst.

Ryn and his Drow Renegades

Our old acquaintaince, Ilmryn Xyltyn gathers a crew of male Drow to create fear and terror among the citizens of the River Lands and wreak revenge on Master Druid Jaekob Faolan and especially the powerful females within the Lands, the ArchDruids Fiesty and Fitheach and the Dragon Clan Princess, Saphira. 

After eons of matriachal rule among the Drow of the Underdark, 

Ilmryn has taken charge and found bloodthirsty followers to assist him in his obliteration of the River Lands...

Ryn flexes his muscles as he stands among his chosen Drow warriors, those most ruthless and ready to use their strength and agility to take command of the Drow population within the Shadow Lands and to quell the ever increasing female influence within the River Lands and surrounding regions.

"What say you, Welverin? The Druid's human wench remains alone in their loathsome dwelling beneath the Elven sanctuary?

Welverin, alert to the changeable moods of his leader, warily reports of his escape from the Ranger pack that hunted him until the entrance to the Underdark. "Aiy," he hisses, "the slattern is alone, but well guarded by Elven Rangers. As I approached her hovel, the White Elf and the Druid's whore came upon me from behind. I readied my blade, but the vexing female sounded the alarm bell and suddenly Rangers and Guards were upon me from all sides. These detestable Lands are on high alert now it would seem."
He finishes his speech, his gaze averting the Chief Drow, but nods towards his fellow renegades appreciatively as they grunt in assertion.

"The Druid King's female is guarded, but I have ascertained that even she does not know where our enemy has disappeared to," adds Veldrin in a derisive tone, fiddling with the knife at his belt. "Elendar and I have been shadowing the women Druids, who were the source of your undoing in the past. They are both vigilant, but remain without extra watchperson in their homelands."

The demeanor of the dark Drow lightens, as his reddened eyes grow bright. 
He turns to his gang of rebels, his voice filling the chamber, "Fellow Drow, our time has come! My research has confirmed that the Highest Drow Priestess Lolth never conferred matriarchal rulership on any female, nor were only females within our society destined for leadership. It is time we used our cleverness and muscle to take our rightful place at the top of Drow population and quash the females who have kept us grovelling in the dirt for so long!" 
He paces in front of the other Drow and his tone becomes poisonous, "...our dearest, most beloved Arianna is incomposed. Her foray into Dark Magick has left her insensible and in some sort of trance. Nonetheless, her vindictive objective is not so different from our own, so we shall continue to pursue those closest to the odious Elven King," here he pauses to sneer and observe the reaction of his companions, "...but we will no longer simply shadow our feeble enemies... as of now, our objective is to eradicate the females always whispering into those distasteful pointed ears of the Druid... the women who grow in influence by muttering proposals and strategies into the responsive ears of the fragile, weak Elven King!"

He spits out the title and pivots around to ascend towards the throne on the dais. "The Druid is unaccounted for. No matter fo the present. First, you shall all move out, take as many warriors as you see fit, and dispose of the Druid females and that cursed winged Dragon woman," he motions to Welverin, "... and you will first finish off the King's whore for causing such strife."

Ilmryn leans back, his fingers flexing on the armrest and his grin likens a hideous grimace as he smirks satisfactorily, "We shall prepare a memorable homecoming for our old friend... Elf... King... Master Druid Jaekob - a return soaked in the blood of his cherished womenfolk!"
The malicious laughter of the renegade Drows flows throught the Hall and is transmitted throughout the Shadow Lands... where a new Dawn has ascended.

Fiesty has an Idea

Fiesty Lotus is sitting quietly in her home examining a schedule of the hobbit activities. The crops were in and mostly processed. The Hobbit ladies were hard at work setting up their quilting and darning. Hobbit men were out checking on the fences and securing the livestock. They traveled by twos these days, for extra protection. 

Her thoughts turned to Copper and Tangles, her two main scouts. They were both off camping at the edges of the Shire. She had word from Juste that they and their men were both well and consuming his food at a satisfactory rate (that is Breakfast, Second Breakfast, Lunch, Tea, and Supper). Juste’s supply boys also went by twos. 

Fiesty looked a bit worn from all the worry but was determined to keep the Shire safe. 
She smiled and thought of Copper, her nephew. She whispers to herself “How’s yer bein terday Copper?” 

Then she reached in her desk and drew forth the granite statue she had made of him with the Earth element. She had made it when she was just starting out as a full druid and it was a bit rough in places. Still, it was earth magic and glowed with the light of his life. With the statue she could tell if he was ailing or tired. The stone blazed with light so she smiled happily and tucked it back in its cubbyhole.

Just then she heard the sound of someone knocking at her door. Fiesty put on an old shabby fur wrap and goes to answer it. It was Folco Sackville, a rather stuffy and self-important hobbit that had been working by the bridge when he intercepted a runner from Riverlands and intimidated him into giving up his scroll.

Folco puffed and bowed to Fiesty holding out the scroll. Fiesty took the scroll and examined the hobbit before her. ” Where’d yer get this Folco?” Folco answered that he had received it from a runner by the bridge. Fiesty nodded and then asked quietly “Where be yer partner Folco, you know we are goin two by two now?” Folco stuttered something about moving faster alone. Fiesty shook her head. "Well, I do thank yer fer the letter but I think yer ought ter get back to yer partner, you don’t want him all alone by the bridge….” 
Folco looked alarmed and nodded wordlessly. He turned and ran back the way he came. Fiesty shook her head at the wooliness of some of her kinfolk.

After returning to her desk, Fiesty realized the seal on the scroll was Druid Fitheach’s. She broke the seal and read eagerly. The news was good and bad; the mage had found a way to keep the cat safe for the time being. That she sighed in relief from. 
But there seemed to be increased Drow sightings towards Taibreamh, the Shire and Calenhad.  And of course the Master Druid had still not been heard of. 
All of a sudden Fiesty pulled out the statue of Copper from her cubbyhole and said 
“I wonder”...


To be continued...

The Lands on Alert

Arvellon returns to the alarm bell where Amethyst is waiting, an elven Ranger at her side. He first addresses his Ranger brother, "Ai gwador! Prestad?" (Hail brother! Any trouble?) and on registering the slight shake of the other Elf's head, he turns to Amethyst and offers her his hand...

"Melda heri, mai acáriel. Á tulë asenyë." (Beloved Lady, you did well. Come with me.) 

Amethyst McMahon smiles shyly and places her small hand in the larger one of the commanding Elf. She murmurs her thanks to the Ranger who had shielded and protected her as Arvellon raced after the dark Drow earlier. Her composure has returned somewhat and she asks quietly if the Drow has been found by the trackers and rangers that appeared at the sounding of the alarm bell.

Arvellon hesitates, his eyes ever watchful along the path and among the trees surrounding them, "No, my Lady, he disappeared once again within the crags of the Shadow Lands. Yet strangely we could confirm that he did seem to be scouting alone here."

Amethyst nods and shivers as total darkness falls over the Lands. Just as they reach the Cottage, Arvellon pauses and extracting her hand from his, she turns to thank him, but is interrupted by his words... 

"We wonder at his plans and I fear that you are not safe at the Cottage without our Aran. The Elven Council would have you removed to Calenhad for the present."

Amethyst frowns and folds her arms in frustration across her chest before replying through clenched teeth, "No Arvellon, I will not be "removed" anywhere. I am staying here, because here is where Jaek will return first and I want to be here when he comes home."

The Elf remains impassive, yet his voice is tinged with gentleness, "Yes, my Lady, no need for ire. I already told the Council that this is the answer they may expect and I will remain here on watch until the Aran returns, however I will be joined by other Rangers now."

Amethyst McMahon sighs and gives Arvellon a timid smile, "I know that my staying here is not making your life any easier and I realise that your leadership and battle skills could be put to better use elsewhere in the Lands at present. I'm sorry for being such a nuisance, but I must stay here and wait for the Druid," her voice falters slightly, "...I'm very sure he will be home any moment now."

Arvellon takes a step towards Amethyst, halts and replies, "Ai, little one, the Aran is sure to return to you soon. And keeping you safe is a duty that I undertook at the Aran's request with full understanding of its importance. You were very brave today and your quick thinking at raising the alarm helped us to be completely certain that the Drow was tracking alone. This fact is enough to trouble those protecting the Lands. His target was clear."

Amethyst balks at the true meaning of this disclosure and her gaze quickly skirts the trees and waterline nearby.

"Áva sorya, Amethyst. A hauta sinomë. Quel kaima." (Do not fear, Amethyst. Rest here. Sleep well.) Arvellon motions to a troop of Rangers who emerge from the cover of the trees to take up position around the Cottage.

"Your home is well guarded and Aran's loyal friend, the White Wolf, will not move from the entrance until it is light. I must inform the Elven Council of your wish to remain here and then I shall return to watch. Go inside now, my Lady, you are cold and in need of rest."

Amethyst gives a weary smile to the handful of Rangers safeguarding her sleep, the awareness that the Lands are now on high alert intensifying her exhaustion and worries, but upon reaching the door she turns again and her look is one of thanks as she farewells Arvellon, "Hantanyel órenyallo, Arvellon. Tenna' tul're. Alámenë." (I thank you from my heart. Until tomorrow. Go with a blessing.)

A risky encounter with a Drow

Amethyst McMahon quietly opens the cottage door and lets out a low moan as she sees the ever present White Wolf and Elven Ranger, both in position only metres away...

Arvellon turns instantaneously upon discerning the near silent opening of the cottage door and narrows his eyes as he watches Amethyst descend the steps, noting the bow and quiver strapped tightly to her spine.

"Vedui, Lady Amethyst," he murmurs in a slightly impatient tone.

Amethyst braces herself and conjures a tight smile upon her face before answering softly, "Vedui Arvellon. Have you been here all night?"

The solemn Elf gives no answer and she passes him with a slight nod of the head, but after just a few paces she hears him sigh and his next question takes her by surprise... "Manke naa lye autien (Where are we going), my Lady?"

She raises her eyebrows and a genuine smile flashes across her features. "So I will not require another lecture about staying safely at home today?"

Arvellon approaches Amethyst and towers over her, but his tone is even as he replies, "No, my Lady, I know you are used to visiting the farming folk beyond Cheshire after Market Day. I will accompany you as you attend to your chores and make certain we are back at the Cottage well before dusk."

Amethyst McMahon inclines her head in thanks, thinking it best not to reply and perhaps incur another lecture or change of heart from the aloof Elf. Arvellon was one of Jaek's most trusted aides and a renowned Ranger. She knew he must be frustrated at having to spend each day guarding the Cottage and ensuring her safety, while his brethren were hunting Drow... even if he had been personally asked by the Master Druid to remain at her side during his absence.

They walk in silence towards Cheshire, cross Remembrance Bridge and move swiftly among the trees until they reach the first farmhouse, just beyond the walls of the town. 

Here Amethyst began her weekly visit with the farmers and their families from these parts, hearing their concerns and assuring herself as to their health and happiness....

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Amethyst McMahon waves farewell to Sarah, widowed a year now, but surprisingly positive in her outlook and joyous at the further success of her farm. The past year had seen her take on hired help for the heavy farmwork, but the rest was her doing these days and she seemed content with the progress. Her only worry had been the gossip about Drow sightings each night around the town and forest and Amethyst had been able to say very little to reassure the young woman. The danger was hanging about the Lands like a dense fog in winter time...

Arvellon looks around in agitation as Amethyst says her goodbyes and as she joins him on the path leading away from the town, he speeds his pace, his gaze constantly screening the area around them.

Amethyst begins to jog to keep up with the Ranger and addresses him apologetically, "I apologise for taking so long, but there was much to discuss and many fears to calm today."

Arvellon replies frostily, "The sun has set, my Lady. You know that the Lands are no longer safe, especially after darkness has fallen. We must return you to your home immediately," and he hastily climbs the stairs leading to the bridge, constantly scanning the river and path ahead.

As they reach the other bank and the path leading to Druid Cottage, Arvellon suddenly halts, turning abruptly to Amethyst, his voice low and even. "There are Drow about, Amethyst. An armed male is ahead of us on this path, there may be others among the trees. Remain close behind me and draw your bow. Do not make a sound."

Amethyst flinches at the Elves words, her eyes darting into the shadows ahead as she reaches for her bow, trying to make as little noise as possible. She marvels at the detached attitude of her companion as her own heart begins to race.   

Arvellon motions for Amethyst to stay close behind him as they use the trees and scrub for cover, slowing following the lone Drow as he moves without apparent haste along the path ahead.

The Elf murmurs softly to Amethyst, "I believe the Drow is alone, but we need not take any chances. There may be others behind us or among the trees. The Cottage lies directly before us. We shall continue to follow and see if the Cottage is his target."

Amethyst holds her breath and nods, remaining close to Arvellon as they shadow the Drow. She looks down at the bow at her side, tapping against her skirt as her hands beginning to shake. Fear of calling attention to their presence leaves her mute.

After only a short while, the Drow's intentions become clear. The Cottage seems to be his destination as there is little else situated this far into the forest under Calenhad.

Amethyst examines their position, but just as she opens her mouth to point out a possible course of action, Arvellon swiftly pulls her behind a large oak.

Her eyes dart towards the Drow and she gasps as searching eyes cross directly to their location, his hand unsheathing his blade.

"Rima (Run)!", Arvellon hisses through clenched teeth, pushing Amethyst back towards the path they had just covered. His focus is solely on the solitary Drow, slowly creeping towards the ancient tree protecting the Elven Ranger.

Amethyst watches the scene enfold, her heartbeat loud within her ears and she hesitates only a moment before spinning about and rushing across the pathway, placing herself directly within range of the Drow's flying blade. She hears Arvellon's shout, but the commotion behind her is soon drowned out as she reaches for the rope and begins pulling frantically to set the alarm bell ringing across the Lands...

To be continued...

Winter Recalls A Story Of His Youth

Winter walked across the ledge of crisp white snow and dusted off his seat, by the fire, with his hand. He shook the cold fluffy snow from his fingers and rubbed them against his coat, “good evening sheepies. Bear, here boy, come here. Come sit by the fire and I will tell you a tale.”

 The sheep seem disinterested, munching away on the thin pale yellow-green blades of grass sticking up through the white blanket, but Bear walked over to Winter’s side and sat next to the warm fire. The heat from the fire melted all of the snow on the rocks and nearby grass making it seem like spring, if only in a space a couple metres round.


Winter began his story, “I once had a brother named Deven. No, another brother, before Helmut. You see Deven lived before me when our family lived in Numenor. He was a strong young man. He was growing up to be a mercer like my father.”

Winter glanced through the flames and across the river to a strange pale light flickering along the shoreline. Deciding it was nothing he continued his story as he looked down at Bear. Bear’s black eyes reflected the flames of the nearby fire and he licked his chops as he waited for Winter to continue.

“It was late one night that he was at the shop when I am told a dark vampyre called on him. He did not stand a chance I guess.” Winter picked up a couple small twigs from the ground, snapped them in to two with his hands and tossed them into the flames.  “He was set to be married before that night, in less than a week in fact, to a young woman. I never knew her name. My father never spoke of her or Deven much. But I think her name started with a W or an N. I remember seeing it written down somewhere in my father's study.”

The flames curled and danced as they embraced the dry scraps of timber. Winter continued, “You remember I was born in the Forests of Sangha, about one year after Deven died. Oh yes, well, they tell me he died. I think the truth is he was banished and they just called him dead. But like I said, father rarely spoke of him.”

A cold wind trickled past under the chair and Winter shifted his weight in the seat and pulled the corners of his coat up against his legs. “I wonder what he was like. I wonder if he looked like me. Sometimes I have dreams, of a young man with sandy colour hair. He speaks to me. I feel safe. But then the clouds move in and it starts to storm. I look at the young man and he has turned into a most dreadful skeleton. And then I wake up.”

Bear looked up at Winter and made a curious huffing sound. “I know, not much to go on Bear but I think the young man was my brother Deven”, said Winter.

Winter paused for a moment to stand and look to the edge down to the partly ice coated river. A splashing sound lapped against the rocks as a large fish swam nearby and fragments of ice rolled and clicked together like natural wind chimes.

Satisfied it was nothing but the fish Winter returned to his seat and his story. “A couple years after I was born there was a day when the earth started shaking and would not stop. Many things fell and broke during the shaking and a fire soon started that eventually burned down the Sangha Forest.” 

Winter’s family had fled the quakes and forest fires to a beautiful hilltop retreat with long but not so hot summers and short dry winters. “I was just a very small boy when our family fled the forest to live high in the rocks above the inlet nearby. It was a nice place to live. I had a pet squirrel who would eat nuts from my hand and not be scared of me. It was a green place with many flowers. I felt safe there. I remember my friend the squirrel. I called him Peter. I do not remember why.”

Winter drew some salted meat from his pack and began to cook it over the fire. The meat sizzled and cracked in the flames and within a few minutes of silent reflection had cooked to a fine dark colour fit for Man and beast. 

Bear woofed at Winter when the smell of cooked meat reached his nostrils and he pawed the ground in anticipation. “Yes Bear here you go you can have some meat.” Winter said as he tore a couple pieces off from the hulk of flesh and tossed them down to his loyal Shepherd. 

Winter began chewing on the meat but then paused for a moment to rise up and draw some cold fresh water from the river for a drink. He glanced once more across the river to the spot where the mysterious glow presented itself before but there was only darkness there now. 

Upon returning to his seat he finished the story for Bear “My father came to me one day when I was in the meadow and told me I would be leaving for the North the next morning. He said that dark times were coming to Numenor and I would be safe with the Chieftains.  My father said that I might not see him or mother again for many years but that we would meet again in Summerland."

Winter paused for a moment to wipe a tear from his cheek that burned cold against his fire warmed flesh. "I remember crying and telling him I did not want to go but he said that I must. My mother tried to comfort me when I laid down to rest that night but I would not speak to her. I was angry at them for wanting to send me away. The next morning a rider came for me and told me I would be going across the water to a place called Eriador. I had not heard of it before. I would not look at my mother or my father as we rode away on the horse, which is one of the last times I saw them alive.”