3430 of the Fifth Age
Mordurel, Evergleam Mountains, Mountain of Ëissarail
Balaak’s Holdfast
Manewë
The tall Aethereal was deep at work when an old Gnome wandered into his study.
“I do beg your pardon knowledgeable master,” he announced.
Manewë looked up from the parchment he had been writing on and turned to the Gnome.
“This arrived for you,” the short man explained and handed him the scroll. “By raven from scouts near Ztûkrû Khazad.”
Manewë took it with interest eased by caution.
“It’s from Ghee’s group,” the old Gnome informed him as he was to start reading. “Says that the underworld tunnels are filling with thousands of Fel orcs, Goblins and Bugbears marching. They marched under a banner with a ink black woman encircled in orange and red flames on a black field.”
Nûlbarâkz, he knew. He read the bottom of the scroll. “All heading for Ztûkrû Khazad. The foul creatures are fortifying the old dwarf mountain hold. Troubling news. Troubling indeed. Yesterday it was reported that orcs has been spotted scouting around Mount Silverspear and Dûmhaal Khazad. Nûlbarâkz’ foul legions are slowly strengthening their positions. The dwarfish holds and towns in the Karak Mountains know that more than anyone.”
As Manewë sighed the old Gnome left the study. With information gathered from the forestland of Felwood and the cold mountainous Felgorond it made him fear for war. The question it left was ‘with who’ were they going to war?
A noise came from the door and he raised an eyebrow and looked over his shoulder. The little Fairy Moonë came flying with a scroll three times her size. She hugged it tight as she flew with her tiny fairy wings. He smiled and reached out to take the scroll, feeling a bit happier already. Little Moonë was-to Manewë’s knowledge, his books and archives-the only fairy in Mordurel, and while he knew much he accepted that it could be more somewhere that he knew nothing of.
“Relegated to mail duty?”
Her tiny eyes glared at him as she landed on his desk.
“The ‘Almighty’ Thorgaal is punishing me,” she said sourly.
“For what, little Moonë?”
She gave him a guarded look, “You haven’t heard anything?”
“Heard what?”
“Eh…nothing. I’m being punished for no reason!” Then she titled her head and put her hands together. “Feel sorry for me.”
Manewë smiled slightly and rolled up the scroll to read it. Thorgaal, Defender of Men and lord of Balaak’s Holdfast, beseeched him for counsel in the hall of thrones. The matter at hand was a request from the dwarf High king in Khazad Everhold, the lord of all dwarf holds, towns and petty kingdoms. A request of specifically Ígilil, Sweet lady of Fruit and Seed. The high king pleaded for aid from the Aethereal lady to heal many acres of dying farmland. Manewë knew her power, simply walking passed tended to breathe life into the land, such was the power of their kin, of the few existing Aethereals.
Moonë tilted her head with a slightly worried expression on her little face.
“Are you well? Ill-news?”
“This scrolls less so, however, news from the west and south of Nûlbarâkz lands are about as foul as the beasts ‘the Evil one of Fire commands in her underground holdings.” He finished with a sigh. “As if it does not drew much of my time, I must put together a tome.”
“Can I help?” She sounded hopeful. Whether it was hope to actually help to escape the ‘torment of Thorgaal he did not know.
“Thank you dear, but it is not necessary. The Gnomes scour the archives for it and will put it together for me. You see, little Moonë, soon King Jerenduin VI Delithéil, king of Meniongond, one of the elven kingdoms, is expecting his first child. Sweet Ígilil wishes to gift him a tome on the written knowledge of his royal line back to the First Age.”
“Wow, that’s…quite the sacrifice she’s making there,” Moonë voiced sarcastically.
Manewë’s lips was graced by a smile and he locked eyes with the two decimeter tall fairy’s tiny mischievous eyes. For a moment he mused what she had done to anger Thorgaal.
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