Board Thread:Middle Earth Roleplays/@comment-26184570-20151202042359/@comment-26444332-20151207155011

(Cirenmire has kept walking, has she not? Well, guess what golden-eaved woodland we're fast approaching. Faenor and Pelinel went after her to... Well, you'll see.)

Cirenmire stops for a moment, senses on high alert, though she hears and sees nothing. All at once, three grey-robed figures rise up out of the foliage and train their bows on her. One calls for her to lay down her weapons.

"Celephinnel, Caraphissel, Elwion! Daro!" Faenor calls from behind. At once they stop pointing their bows at her and disappear back into the shadows. Cirenmire looks up and sees a small talan, a flet, in the crown of a golden-leaved tree.

"Oh." She says, realizing she is on the borders of Lóriën.

"Sorry about that, but the Grey Wardens, those Galadhrim you saw back there? They serve as the sentinels of Lóriën's borders when they're not with me." Faenor says, walking up to her. "They get a little over-protective when they see strangers walking up to the border."

The other elf, Pelinel, whispers something to Faenor and vanishes into the twilight.

"Come, come." Faenor says to her as the talan lets down a rope. "You must be tired. Rest, please. In Lóriën no evil shall taint the land, for a little while longer at least."