Board Thread:Middle Earth Roleplays/@comment-26453572-20160531213146/@comment-27097330-20160608113350

Faenor of the Silver Laurel wrote: Faenor appraises the blade with a critical eye, before smiling a bit and giving it back to Turatamo with a small shake of his head.

'It is truly a magnificent weapon, but I cannot accept. You see, I have my own sword already, and I would not give it up for any prize or riches,' Faenor says, tapping the back-curving black wooden grip of his curved Elven-blade with the palm of his hand. 'This is Ringil, the sword of Ice, weapon of the High King Fingolfin, most proud and valiant of the Elven-kings of old. I have borne it through the long ages, and it has become as much a part of me as I am to it.'

(This is Ringil, to my character. Note that in this the blade's edge faces right.)

Faenor's smile disappears entirely, and a chill wind ripples through the trees.

'In any case, I could not take this blade. It's purpose is not mine to fulfil, and my journey does not cross paths with it's end. Better to give it to one who can bring about the sword's desire. My path... My path is one few would dare to tread, even among the Firstborn and the Exiles.'

At that, he turns to Arahaelon.

'Gwanur, I would say this to you ere your departure. When all things seem hopeless, and darkness surrounds you on every side, remember me, and take pity on a lost soul's dark path.'

Then Faenor faces Coaxotl once more.

'Mortal man, I have no words for you, other than that I hope you may someday find it in your heart to forgive a weary traveller for his manners, if they were offensive. Take your path, Coaxotl o-Taur, and maybe it shall come out for the best, in the end.'

At that, Faenor turns towards the river, and more specifically to the shadowed woods beyond, and the darkness lying over the eastern shore.

'You must go, and quickly. The Enemy's servants will soon be here.' "That sounds like a lot of prattle to me, but I'm sure it's extremely wise, so I'll keep that in mind."