Board Thread:Middle Earth Roleplays/@comment-27168578-20160127181644/@comment-26444332-20160217151133

He is answered with silence. Evidently, the forest does not seem to care... Until an arrow sprouts in Sorthog's shoulder, piercing through the joint on the armor there.

"I think you will be setting him down now." says an irritated Faenor, stepping out of the shadows, garbed in a grey cloak and holding an Elven longbow in his hand, arrow on the string. He raises it and brings the arrow back to full draw, aiming at Sorthog's head.

"Put him down."