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  • Bilbo Baggins: Caught up on a missed post Hera, your reply from Bilbo is next promise <3
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Author Topic: Sing the Sea's Song  (Read 1642 times)

Caranor

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Sing the Sea's Song
« on: July 11, 2015, 10:15:00 AM »
The waves sloshed over a glove with loud splashing. With every moment, they rocked it further away from the pier, to then toss it forwards, and pull back once more. It drifted in seafoam and cool waters, a lost little thing, till the tip of a gleaming silver saber neared towards it, hooking the black leather onto its curving tip, and in an elegant arc, sparked with droplets of water, threw it onto the planks of wood that formed a weather-worn pier, stained white with sea-salt and bleached by sunlight. It slapped against the surface, leaving dark, wet marks and a little pool of water, crumpled up like a piece of parchment.
He slid the sword into its sheath, hiding the chain of green gems by its hilt in black leather, and a ring of silver at the top. An exquisite weapon in a pair of old hands... How funny that was used to merely fish out a glove its owner had lost. However, it was to be commended, that it found its use only at the peaceful everyday trifles of man and circumstance. He wished not to drench it in blood any soon.
Laeg-nemir. Might it stay unstained for another millennium after seeing the light of the world. Even though he was a swordsmith, he found himself yearning for peace, even if it was only for a century, a decade, a year, a day... An hour...
A deep sigh tore from his lips. An old man, was that what he had become?
Gently, he reached after the glove, pressing and shaking all excess water of its soft leather. It would have to be washed and treated when he returned to the place of his stay, a thought raced through his mind, in order to prevent any staining and cracking of the leather. He only took three pairs with him for the journey...

He almost laughed at the insignificance of his worries, placing the glove by his side as he sat down onto the edge of the pier, letting his legs dangle above the roaring waves. The sea was at an unrest today; its deep waters, green and blue, were foaming up and waves were crashing over one another with a strength, unexpected from something so gentle and fluid. They beat against the shores behind his back, hitting the stone with all the strength of the endless masses of water, like armies that broke against an impenetrable line of defense in vain, yet refused to yield and admit defeat. The support of the pier on which he sat wasn't spared their current, either, but it was low tide; few waves swelled high enough to sprinkle the polished black leather of the smith's tightly-laced boots with droplets of foam.
The sunset was drawing near. Already the rays of light were tinged orange, piercing through the ripped grey clouds that tumbled through the sky. It looked as if a storm is to be expected overnight... How beautiful.
Pale as moonlight, the distant sight of a ship's sails appeared by the southern horizons; his eyes barely caught sight of it, just a tiny dot in the distance, but it was most definitely there, accompanied by the cry of the seagulls making its way towards the ports.

Wordless, he sat there, reminiscing of a time long ago, when he sat upon a similar pier on a similar shore. Back then, too, it was the end of summer; and he had been a much younger man, less worn by the ages, and a few scars shorter. Back then, the sea had been so wild... Too...
Releasing all the air from his lungs, he fell back onto the wooden planks, looking up towards the brilliantly colored clouds. Peaceful. Very peaceful, at last. After a long journey, after long days spent in the forges, their heat scorching and searing the smith, after the steel had cooled down and gained its final shape at last, after the gems' glimmer saw the light of day at last... He was at peace, carried to rest by the solemn lay of the waves. Away for a long time again... But content.
He didn't miss his so-called home. For one reason or another, inside his heart, where it should have been, was just a gaping hole... Home. Home. No, he was happy to have left, though at a high price.
The sea was luring him.
It hadn't stopped since a long time ago; in fact, that longing had been there since he first sighted it, since he first smelled the salt in the early morning mists and heard the gull's cry. Oh, it had never departed, and it was never going to, or was that wrong? Malgelir spoke about a desire to sail away, to depart and never come back. And he threw her words over his shoulder, dismissing her like a child that knew not what she spoke of.
Now, as he looked back, he seemed so hypocritical to his own self...

Oh, the sea, it makes a man's heart sing and cry at the same time. Was it like this for everyone? Was every heart rent apart by a desire to leap amid the waves, and stay at the same time?
He could look no more. He could stand witness and audience to the melancholic beauty of these waves no more, finding himself too torn between a hundred different longings and needs to linger. And thus, he rose, the red and black of his garment falling behind him like shadows in sunset. He had left the smith's apron in the forges, as he often did, trading it for a many-layered robe that he draped over the simple tunic, almost perfect for the wind that seemed to love toying with its light fabrics as much as it loved to blow his long hair into his face.
With one ungloved hand, he swept his long bangs, already reaching to his shoulders, aside, moving them out of his view. And he gave the sea one last long look, drinking its subtle beauty to the very last drop, before deciding that it was time to go, and look no more.

His steps were light and noiseless as he threaded towards the pale stone at the shores, much like his mind was that evening. Silent. Oh, very silent, and what a relief that was, for it was a beautiful evening that he would weep to see marred. Few were in the docks now... Few ships, and few men at the same time. What, in fact, was a pity, since the air wasn't too cold yet, nor was the sunlight too piercing and intruding.
For a while, he pondered upon returning to the forges; however, his last request - a series of pale rose gems, set in wrought strands of silver, was long since completed and given forth to its rightful owner. Since that had happened, today afternoon, no other customer had seemed to fancy a new blade or new jewel, and it seemed that this evening will be his, and his alone. Perhaps he might find the time to write a letter to the boys...
The boys. They had grown up so fast, had they not? It was a pleasure, to see them reaching adulthood, learning so quickly... Reminding him of his own young years...
When he was their age, he was already married and marching for war. What good fortune that they did not have to share his fate... All the bloodshed of the ages long past, all the horror and night...
No.
He shook his head, forcing those unpleasant thoughts away. Did they need to catch up with him even on a peaceful day as this? Were they truly so hell-bent on granting him not a moment of peace?
No.
He would not be subject to the whims of old memories. They could be simply banished back into the unconscious, cast away from the spotlight, and forced back. His fists clenched, eyes shutting tight, and subconsciously, his pace got quicker, stricter, no longer the peaceful strode of a man that enjoyed the afternoon by the sea.

It would be best to return to the forges.
The forges, a refuge, a safe haven like no other, where the fires burned bright and fierce. They were the only place where nothing evil and rotten could follow him, the only place of complete and utter peace of mind, the only place where he was lord and king with an absolute and undeniable rule. His beautiful domain. The altar of all beautiful, brilliant, and breathtaking, the one passion that was immortal.
To merely bring his mind to them created a small smile on his face, and once more, he eased up; he still walked forth with long steps, carrying himself with pride, but no longer was that a constrained manner of walking. No, it was determined now, with a goal at his mind.
Return to the forges. Craft. Spend the night in fire, and feel grateful for how high it burns.
Perhaps these weren't his forges, and the familiarity and majesty of those was left somewhere behind, far to the east, he could never say that merely finding himself within their walls could not make him happy.
Only, that he did not expect to gain company... He did not expect not to find himself alone.
Yes, he had known that some old acquaintances - for he dared not call them friends - could be found in Lindon, he knew that all along, since the very moment he set onto this journey. But that he'd meet them he doubted; unless they'd seek him out alone, the chances were thin. Most of his time was spent within the forges, or all alone, walking, wandering, taking note of all that was beautiful within these lands. Walking, wandering, watching. On a few occasions, he had taken his sketchbook outside to draw the things that he could not find at home, and other times - like today - he left merely for the pleasure of letting his gaze fall onto all that was admirable.
But that he'd meet someone... He never even thought of that.

Galadriel

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Sing the Sea's Song
« Reply #1 on: July 19, 2015, 05:03:00 AM »

Celebrian's soft noises at her back were a rather...unique accompaniment to the gurgling and the rush of the sea upon the shore, and yet for Galadriel, there was nothing more fitting in that moment that could put her more at peace. And like with her baby's presence period, she would have thought, once, that to have necessary [and occasionally noisy] company when she wished to sojourn out on her own would be something she'd find incredibly annoying...

...and yet now, just like the sea swarming white foam about her bare toes, Galadriel could hardly imagine a life without the child close by. Maternal madness? Parental insanity? Most likely. Apparently it was an unavoidable thing -- the degrees in which one suffered it simply varied.

"You're so strange, you silly little thing," she chuckled softly, her response to a diatribe of babble in response to gulls crying overhead, though the Lady-once-princess had to reach back, mid-walk, to prevent the baby from accidentally-on-purpose loosening the knot that kept the sling she was carried in secure to her mother, even if it meant living with the reality that would be her hair being grabbed in those tiny fists and gnawed on in response. She'd been developing her own personality as of late, Celebrian had, and apparently, that included something of an escape con artist's soul. Despite the fact that, quite literally, the little one was barely crawling. Dragging herself across the ground, but not crawling. Though she was even doing that with considerable speed, and Galadriel both looked forward to and dreaded the day Celebrian found her legs.

Small revenge dealt, no doubt, for whatever grief she'd given her own parents as a babe. It seemed to be the way.

She'd deal with it, though, and she'd do it with a smile even at her most exasperated. For Galadriel, in truth, had much to burden her mind as of late and had had much to burden her heart in times past that still lingered. And so, anything that gave her some joy, some peace, was welcomed. The closeness to the ocean, the sea breeze caressing her face, these were all such things even as they oft. filled her with a bittersweet nostalgia for home, and if Celebrian was to be added to this, then gladly so. In a way, if one thought about it, the child was the same as her father now -- an anchor to Middle Earth and all it held even in the darkest days, and a light to soften the darkness that was that ache of homesickness.

"Ow! No, not my ear--"

Laughingly pained was the elleth's voice as it rang out over the surf, and she was forced to pause to detach little fingers from the aforementioned pointed appendages. Yet looking entirely, just for the moment, the image of the virgin mother and child as she swung the baby over her shoulder once her ear was free, holding her aloft in her arms [and to Celebrian's giggling delight] to the backdrop of the crashing surf and the encroaching twilight, as much in play as to keep those questing, grabbing hands from hair, ear, necklace or any such accoutrements.

"You are going to be more trouble than all of Elu Thingol's court put together, you little demon cub."

A merry, toothless grin was her response, and so too was it the response over the mother's golden head to the figure of any other who came into her periphery.


played by Dory

Caranor

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Sing the Sea's Song
« Reply #2 on: July 20, 2015, 12:41:00 PM »
The road decided to lead him in a curious direction, so he realized. Not the fastest way to the forges, but rather, it appeared as if it wished for his gaze to fall on all the things beautiful that he could just find on the seaside. The beaches, drawn into the landscape with soft grains of sand, which stretched afar on either side, they were like open arms... Inviting him...
Inviting him to lose his worries in the soft sunshine and salty breeze. He undid the top few buttons on his robe, opening the collar up and letting it expose the swan-like curve of his neck, pulling the other glove off, too, and stacking it into his belt. He could take a few more moments to walk by the side of the sea, he could allow himself the luxury of a few more gazes. After all, where else would he find majesty unmatched in the same manner as here?
There was nothing in the likeness of the western shores left in Middle-earth...

And he found himself hoping, longing, wishing for times long past...
As the light of the sun reflected off the shimmering waters, they seemed blue and orange and endlessly deep. The wind picked up every now and then, carrying the salt and the screaming of seagulls, flying high overhead. He liked the way it picked through his hair, sweeping it all behind him, as if it wished to take every worry off his shoulders, and make him feel young and unbroken again.
He pushed the sleeves of his robe above his elbows, and took joy in the simple act of standing by the seaside, if only for a fleeting while before the evening comes, and he finds himself in the cold nights of late summer, staring at the bright stars overhead.
Memories of him in his youth surfaced, floating like driftwood. He stood on the shore in that self-same manner, tired from the long journey, the braids in his hair billowing behind him in the seaside gales. And as he heard the birds cry ever so loudly, breathing in the salt, and watched the waves wash over the shores, his heart was bound to the sea with a chain of foam and cool water, swimming, swimming on the surface.
Back then, he waded into the water, still booted and fully dressed, till he stood knee-deep in it, the swelling waters trashing the rider's garment. He didn't want to leave, yearning for the other shore, his soul torn asunder for something he couldn't express neither with word nor with picture, for something he knew he couldn't have.

Homesick for a place he had never seen. Why was it that every time he sighted the sea, he wanted to stand on the other shore?
He had to brace himself to avoid running headfirst into the waves. Instead, he turned his gaze away, down to the small seashells, embedded in the sand, his steps making nary a sound except for the robe, fluttering in the wind, the dagged sleeves and many-layered garments ruffled like a cloud of smoke.
He walked in silence, always in utter silence. Not a word to be spoken out.
So taken by the sights that surrounded him, he didn't notice that he wasn't alone till he got really close.

His eyes widened at the sight, standing just a few feet away, suddenly frozen still. She was as pale as moonlight, and beautiful as dawn...
He knew her. He'd be lying to himself if he said no... But so many years had gone, so many... That he found himself at a loss of words, gaping and still. He should greet her... He should, oh yes, but how?
Leaving a hardly noticeable thread of footsteps in the moist sand, he dared take a step forwards, giving the grinning child in her arms a slight smile of his own.
"Well met." His voice was soft, silent, much unlike the tone he would have used for a customer of any sort. No, not today, not here and not now.
He slid a strand of hair behind his ear, standing afar, but not too much so. Just keeping the necessary distance.
"It's beautiful today, is it not? The sea."

Galadriel

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Sing the Sea's Song
« Reply #3 on: July 23, 2015, 01:03:00 AM »

It was second nature to follow the attentions of her child, though Galadriel's shoulders tensed out of reflex at the intrusion of a new presence, and they only relaxed slightly when the voice made the presence's identity known. It took her a long moment to place it without actually glancing around, her mind needing half that time to pull itself from the rare, untroubled bliss it had found playing with her daughter by the sea, and the other half was for sifting through the many memories in her already aged mind. So many, and most of those people, and many of those again people that had been lost to her. Ah. Yes. That's right.

 It was a melancholic thought though, and one that caused Galadriel to draw her daughter back to her chest, arms wrapped about her in a natural need for protectiveness over a mother's offspring and wide grin melting to something slighter, smaller...though perhaps not softer even as it was somewhat wistful in it's carefulness, when she finally turned on her bare feet to look properly upon Caranor.

"It is always beautiful, and twice as so if one knows her perils. She is consistent in her unpredictability, if nothing else."

Celebrian gurgled softly in her arms, and Galadriel glanced down to meet the wide blue gaze -- so unsettlingly like her own. An owlish blink and a burrowing of a silver head into her shoulder elicited a soft chuckle unbidden from the elleth, and she bounced the babe gently with the motion of her body before Caranor was graced once more with a smile, though this one more lop-sided.

"Though we may consider it twice as beautiful this evening for differing reasons. I find myself subject to ridiculous notions since motherhood has come upon me, and I fear if I were to ever meet my mother again, she would laugh herself to madness at my newfound perspective on life. No doubt remind of something mortifying or other I once said about the very same thing I saw in other parents. But children are rare and precious as the pearls the sea keeps from us in her belly, and so I like to think I may be forgiven."

Another long moment, in which the wind picked up and [much to Celebrian's delight] blew tresses of her mother's hair across them both, before Galadriel spoke once more.

"That being said, it has been quite some time; I do not believe I was even pregnant when last I saw you. What brings you from your lair, Caranor?"


played by Dory

Caranor

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Sing the Sea's Song
« Reply #4 on: August 09, 2015, 08:33:00 PM »
Motherhood. The babe in her arms, so astonished and enlightened purely by the smallest of nature's acts, by winds and waves, by her mother's warm and familiar embrace... A sight familiar and distant at once, and he found his eyes long captured by the sight. She reminded him of his own wife, though his boys had been... Growing up fast, to say the very least. Faster than he could take note. And yet, her words had made a little smile curve his lips up, the wind taking his long for a mere toy, whipping it into his face as his hands made a great effort to push it back.
Consistent... In her unpredictability.
Ah, very much so. Raging and fierce, only to greet him the very next day with open, inviting arms, but a murmur instead of the roaring storm that could have departed perhaps mere hours ago. There had been a storm when he arrived, oh yes. He had hidden himself in the forges for its duration, but his eyes had found the window, and as terrifying as the play of lightning and rain had been, he would refuse to let go of the windowsill, so blind as not to grace it with more than a glancing gaze. No. It was too much of an enrapturing moment for that, and he knew just how much his heard relished in the rare moments when Arda unveiled its beauty before his eyes, he knew just how much it would leap at such a sight. And... For a change... For a change, he had been merciful to it that day.
Yet, the Lady's words brought him back to the present, swiftly, yet gently pulling his thoughts to the moment he had found himself in now. His hands slowly fell back down, stopping at his hips, hooking against the thin belt, adorned with silver. Silver of his own craft, he reminded himself - why not pride yourself on what you had been gifted with the most?

Ah-
No matter. An erratic mind, made even more prone to stray aside in a moment such as this. He had lost his train of thought for the thousandth time, only to be brought back by the giggle of Galadriel's daughter. His eyes, usually as hard and distant as the steel he worked into intricate shapes within his workshop, softened at the glance.
"Though I fear I will never be able to fully grasp motherhood and its charms - for obvious reasons - parenthood and its joys aren't alien to me, either. It is... A gift, like a flower that unveils its petals one by one with coming time. Or so I had come to see, my own boys growing up quickly." Perhaps too quickly.
Father. You are father but to the swords you craft with such love.
It stung deep, bitter words spoken shortly before his departure, and his smile as if had been blown away by the sea's breath. The gap had grown deeper over the years...
But she was far away from him. And it was only the boys he had come to miss every now and then when he stood in silence in forlorn halls, in solitude eating the sparse meal of the day, without a single soul to disturb, but also without a single soul to enlighten. That were the moments when he missed the twins, missed their mischief, their voices, the little hands that would tug at his garment and force him away from whatever he was doing so often.

What brought him here?
"Errands, naturally." An answer that came without thought, long since having become reflexive, learned, trained to be repeated to anyone that asked. But, in its own manner, it was a true answer. He was here on errands. And beyond that, different reasons... Different, complicated, numerous reasons. Had he wanted to travel for his heart was at an unrest, travel to learn, travel for inspiration, travel for peace, travel for the sake of travel itself, travel to lay his foot in different lands, travel for he was... Running away from something?
Was he running away from something? Was he?
"I had received a few requests... Made arrangements... And I have long since needed a holiday. From time to time, even the familiarity of my own forges weighs heavy on me." His voice grew softer with every word, a rare occurrence, but not without reason for this moment. Yes, he was weary. He found that every time such feelings crept up to his mind and begun to poison it, he'd be packing his bags and saddling his mount to travel to far away lands. It was natural. It worked, at least for a time. The stream of new sensations and new ideas that flooded his thoughts washed off the weariness, washed off the darkness, and for a time, he would be as good as new. For a while.
"It is always refreshing to travel. Especially to these lands. Sometimes, some might need... A journey, growing weary of home, as strange as that might sound to some."
His glance slipped over to the sea, hands once more running up to his hair. His fingers dug through it, sweeping it all over his back, like a silken curtain that in length rivaled the Lady's, but while there was radiant gold in her tresses, his had been dark as obsidian. He grasped it firmly, twisting it in an attempt to make a knot out of it, but it had simply slithered out, set free by its own intention.

A little smirk lifted up the corner of his mouth, lopsided, a soft chuckle tearing forth from his lips. He was just making a fool of himself with this.
Just let it be free. Have you the need to force everything on a way paved by your hands? Have you the need to give everything a clear road to follow, and to anger yourself and be wroth when that road remains abandoned? Do not be so forceful. Be at peace, at long last. Is that not why you had traveled here? Is that not why you had pursued the sea's song? To find peace?
It... It was most likely the truth.
He put his hands back at his sides, the sword shifting a little as their weight made it sink down.
"What had brought you here? It truly had been a long time since we had last met, though I remember it clearly."

Galadriel

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Sing the Sea's Song
« Reply #5 on: August 31, 2015, 01:22:00 AM »

"Oh yes, it must weigh heavy indeed," Galadriel murmured, a wry smile threatening to twitch her lips upward as he lamented the struggles in which he faced. A struggle indeed, to proclaim one's self filled with so many talents, and then to lament the burden in which they'd brought upon themselves by doing so. She said nothing more of the matter though, merely hiding her smirk in Celebrian's silver hair, and the baby herself sticking her thumb in her mouth and watching Caranor [or perhaps the shift of Caranor's dark hair in the wind] with a sort of wide eyed curiousity. He was a curiousity, indeed that much was certain. If nothing else.

And growing weary of home. Yes, she certainly understood that, whether she willed it or not. She had left Arda for rather that reason, much as it pained her now to admit as much. But wisdom had forced her eyes open in that respect, and though Galadriel did not regret that she had left, struck out on her own, she regretted forever the manner in which she'd done so. Turned her back on her father on those burning shores, followed her brothers, allowed what had happened to happen. Done all of this, despite the pleas of the proud ellon that was Finarfin. That was the worst part of her exile from Valinor, really, the fact that she did not know just how much her father hated her, or if he even thought of her at all. Ada...

But then Galadriel shook her head slightly, dispelling the thought to the sound of Celebrian's laughter. Smiling a little herself even when she followed the gaze of her elfling daughter, and found the cause to be dolphins in the water. Or rather, the water they were spraying into the air, out past the breakers, and Galadriel took a moment to stall the conversation so that she could lift the child that little bit higher onto her shoulder, so she might see them better. Fitting, really, for the little one to have spotted dolphins -- creatures that were some of the most family oriented as known to those on land. All too fitting, with the current conversation...one which Galadriel deliberately steered away from the anguished and the depressing, for she had no desire today to think too deeply of dark and sorrowful things, and certainly not to do so for the sake of pandering to another's self-pity. No matter who it was.

"I am content for her to stay little for as long as she wishes. Or more sensibly -- she is welcome to grow up, but I have no qualms with her choosing to stay close to me, as I am not likely to have more. It would not be fair to my children, to bring them into the world when there is the risk that I might accidentally neglect them." Galadriel bounced Celebrian gently on her shoulder, smiling a little when the chubby face nuzzled into the hair at her temple.

"I am quite aware of what my future holds, you see, Caranor. And though I am not ashamed of that, I am sensible of it nonetheless. Perhaps that is why I place so much of my efforts into motherhood."

"I cannot say I suffer the weariness of being home, though." Her mouth twitched. "It is an impossibly irrational thing to admit to, but if I were to become weary of home, then that would be saying that I am weary of my family. And regardless of my own ambitions, I have found I am home wherever Celeborn and Celebrian are, now. But as to your question...need to meet with Gil-galad, that is all you need know. Though I am flattered you remember our last meeting so well."


played by Dory

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    June 25, 2020, 01:41:34 PM
  • Ari: Tag for Gandalf [link]
    June 16, 2020, 07:01:59 AM
  • Dory: Plotter tag for Aragorn/Estel
    June 16, 2020, 05:06:42 AM
  • Dory: Plotter tag for Pip
    June 16, 2020, 03:48:54 AM
  • Dory: Plotter tag for Shadowfax
    June 16, 2020, 03:27:53 AM
  • Dory: Plotter reply from Morwen to Theoden. <3
    June 16, 2020, 03:13:39 AM
  • Arahin: Reply for Nauroval [link]
    June 14, 2020, 05:12:45 AM
  • Ari: Tag for Gandalf  [link]
    June 13, 2020, 08:01:39 AM
  • Galadriel: Tag for Celeborn. [link]
    June 07, 2020, 01:42:22 PM
  • Gandalf: Starter for Shadowfax [link]
    June 07, 2020, 05:31:17 AM
  • Galadriel: Tag for Elrohir. <3 [link]
    June 07, 2020, 02:05:39 AM
  • Bard: Reply for Bain [link]
    June 05, 2020, 07:02:43 AM
  • Hild: Reply for Fengel [link]
    June 04, 2020, 10:19:13 PM
  • Hild: Reply for Haleth et all [link]
    June 03, 2020, 11:41:18 PM
  • Éowyn: Plotter tag for Marbys! [link]
    June 02, 2020, 10:32:55 AM
  • Éowyn: Starter for Theoden. <3 [link]
    June 02, 2020, 10:03:48 AM
  • Thengel: Reply for Morwen Steelsheen [link]
    June 02, 2020, 05:52:44 AM
  • Dáin Ironfoot: Starter for Kéra and family [link]
    May 31, 2020, 10:21:13 AM
  • Fengel: Starter for Hild et all [link]
    May 31, 2020, 12:20:29 AM