[Elfhelm]

The moon had already risen high when the ranger arrived. He came on foot, having left his jet-black mare tied in the wood outside the village. He paused before he entered and adjusted his grey traveling cloak. It was torn and mud-stained--the ranger had been in the wild for more than a fortnight. Then, he entered the inn.

Tarendur son of Berenor again hesistated in the doorway as he quickly looked around. He soaked up his surroundings in an instant, seeing that the inn was quite busy that night. Hobbits chatted amiambly in one corner, and he recognized elves and men solemly telling stories in another. It had been 3 years since he--a Dunadan of the North--had set foot in the Green Dragon, and 2 years since he had been in the Shire. Though he was young, he had done plenty of traveling.

Talendur remembered the Shire as a quaint place where someone living constantly on the edge could relax, and so after his sojourn in the forests of Eriador, he had decided to venture south to the Shire for some much needed respite.

As he thought of his plans, Talendur noticed that a seat had opened up near the elves and rangers. He briskly navigated around the tables and sat in an empty chair near a face that seemed familiar. He removed his hood, revealing a handsome face with sharp, hawklike features, dark eyes, and a trim, black beard. He brush a lock of his midnight-black hair from his face and stared intensely at the figure beside him. The person beside him had not yet noticed him, being drawn to the stories of another elf.

At last Talendur's quick memory recalled the right name.

"Greetings Aerandir, do you remember a fellow ranger?"

[ March 01, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]