Post by Verewen of Rohan on Sept 8, 2008 9:54:12 GMT -5
*Somewhere in Celondim, Ered Luin*
A giant of an Elf, tall and broad-shouldered, hunches over a delicately crafted writing table with quill in hand. In front of him a blank piece of parchment rests, waiting. His thoughts are elsewhere right now; his piercing gaze is unfocused as he stares at a small portrait carefully perched on the corner of the secretary. The face in the portrait stares back at him, her silver hair draped over one shoulder, her gray eyes twinkling with warmth even though the likeness has been captured upon a 1-dimensional surface.
Clearing his throat, the Elf tears his eyes away from the picture and tries to focus on his task. Carefully, he dips the tip of the quill into the ink pot and with a bold yet fluid script, begins composing his letter.
"Greetings, Pillagers.
I am an Elf of few words so this will be simple and to the point. I have wandered across this land for many years now, without any real purpose I suppose. You could say that my longevity has..."
His eyes lose focus for a moment as he thingys his head to one side, as if listening to quiet words being whispered only to him, then just as quickly, his gaze clears and he resumes writing.
"...dulled my perception of the world around me, and I seek to correct that. War is coming, and we must be ready. Long have I fought the evils that plague this land, and long have I sought to preserve all that is good and decent in the world. But alas, I am just one Elf, and my time in Middle-earth will soon be over. I cannot fight these battles alone and hope to win. Therefore I respectfully and humbly request to join the ranks of the Pillagers of Pipeweed. I have heard, through numerous contacts, that you are good and brave people, and are always looking for an extra shield and sword to do battle with. I wish to lend my shield to your noble cause, and help fight the agents of Mordor in any way that you deem appropriate.
I humbly await response from you. Written responses may be sent via Post to #11 Haven Way, Celos Glorui, c/o Lasen of Lorien. She will see that I receive it.
Respectfully yours,
Maethoron of Edhellond, Guardian of Ered Luin."
With a sigh, he carefully re-reads the letter, then carefully dusts it to keep the ink from smearing, folds it and seals it into an envelope, and hastily scrawls an address on the front of it:
Pillagers of Pipeweed, Maltmead, Shire Homesteads.
He sets the writing quill back in its holder and leans back with a heavy sigh. "There, it is done. I hope you're happy now," he says to the air. Again, his gaze becomes unfocused as he listens intently to a voice that only he can hear. "Yes, I think this will be good, very good indeed. You were always the wiser of us, I was wrong to doubt you." He raises his hand and gently brushes aside phantom cobwebs, or silken strands of hair.... it is difficult to say what he's actually doing.
((Maethoron, level 22 Elf Guardian.... he's got some quirks about him, as you can see.
He's my last alt, and one of my favorites... until MoM goes live, anyway. 
))
A giant of an Elf, tall and broad-shouldered, hunches over a delicately crafted writing table with quill in hand. In front of him a blank piece of parchment rests, waiting. His thoughts are elsewhere right now; his piercing gaze is unfocused as he stares at a small portrait carefully perched on the corner of the secretary. The face in the portrait stares back at him, her silver hair draped over one shoulder, her gray eyes twinkling with warmth even though the likeness has been captured upon a 1-dimensional surface.
Clearing his throat, the Elf tears his eyes away from the picture and tries to focus on his task. Carefully, he dips the tip of the quill into the ink pot and with a bold yet fluid script, begins composing his letter.
"Greetings, Pillagers.
I am an Elf of few words so this will be simple and to the point. I have wandered across this land for many years now, without any real purpose I suppose. You could say that my longevity has..."
His eyes lose focus for a moment as he thingys his head to one side, as if listening to quiet words being whispered only to him, then just as quickly, his gaze clears and he resumes writing.
"...dulled my perception of the world around me, and I seek to correct that. War is coming, and we must be ready. Long have I fought the evils that plague this land, and long have I sought to preserve all that is good and decent in the world. But alas, I am just one Elf, and my time in Middle-earth will soon be over. I cannot fight these battles alone and hope to win. Therefore I respectfully and humbly request to join the ranks of the Pillagers of Pipeweed. I have heard, through numerous contacts, that you are good and brave people, and are always looking for an extra shield and sword to do battle with. I wish to lend my shield to your noble cause, and help fight the agents of Mordor in any way that you deem appropriate.
I humbly await response from you. Written responses may be sent via Post to #11 Haven Way, Celos Glorui, c/o Lasen of Lorien. She will see that I receive it.
Respectfully yours,
Maethoron of Edhellond, Guardian of Ered Luin."
With a sigh, he carefully re-reads the letter, then carefully dusts it to keep the ink from smearing, folds it and seals it into an envelope, and hastily scrawls an address on the front of it:
Pillagers of Pipeweed, Maltmead, Shire Homesteads.
He sets the writing quill back in its holder and leans back with a heavy sigh. "There, it is done. I hope you're happy now," he says to the air. Again, his gaze becomes unfocused as he listens intently to a voice that only he can hear. "Yes, I think this will be good, very good indeed. You were always the wiser of us, I was wrong to doubt you." He raises his hand and gently brushes aside phantom cobwebs, or silken strands of hair.... it is difficult to say what he's actually doing.
((Maethoron, level 22 Elf Guardian.... he's got some quirks about him, as you can see.
He's my last alt, and one of my favorites... until MoM goes live, anyway. 
))
Elves... <sigh>
