User:Aenorean/Aenorean

Aenorean
File:User-Aenorean-Aenorean.jpg
The Shire Loremasters
World:	Gladden
Vocation:	Historian
Class:	Lore-Master
Race:	Elf
Region:	Rivendell
Age:	9549 years
Height:
Sex:	Male
Skin:
Hair:	Long Brown
Eye:	Blue

Description

Physical Description:

Personality Description:

Bio

Aenorean was born in 1250 YT, the same year Fëanor crafted the Tengwar, the Elvish writing system. He was the son of Gwaredher, son of Ecthelion of the White Fountain. He came into Middle-Earth via the Helcaraxë with the host of Fingolfin. He lived in Mithrim, the realm of Fingon son of Fingolfin. He was a messenger between the kingdom of Fingolfin and his sons and those of the sons of Fëanor.

Of the Finding of Tumladen and the Founding of Gondolin

When he was returning home after having delivered a message of Finrod Felagund to Maedhros, he came upon the Vale of Tumladen. Here lay a lake and Aenorean swam in it. Then Ulmo came out of the water before him and spoke to him: "I long have awaited and many traveller that passed this land evaded this Vale. That was my purpose, for only the worthy may lay their eyes upon the sacred lake. I have chosen thou to see and admire it. What ye do with this knowledge thou only haveth, is up to the council of yer own." Then Ulmo departed out of the valley, taking with him all the water of the Vale, revealing the flat Plain underneath. Trough the riverway, that was in the days after called the Dry River, he departed and flowed into the beds of the Great River Sirion.

Here Ulmo came before Turgon, son of Fingolfin, Lord of Nevrast and Finrod, son of Finarfin, Friend of the Sindar. The Lord of Water advised the princes to seek and build a hidden place, to hide from the Dark Lord Morgoth, whom Ulmo believed would one day break free. They departed their ways, each seeking their own for a place to build their new cities. Meanwhile, Aenorean had leaved the Vale, to go to his home in the land of Mithrin. To come there he chose a path trough the Vale of Sirion, where, as if by chance, it would seem, he met Turgon, but it was not. For this was ordered by Eru himself, some say. At this meeting Aenorean told Turgon of the lake, and of the plain Ulmo created. This seemed fit for Turgon, as hidden place to build his capital anew. Aenorean led him to the Vale of Tumladen, where Turgon ordered the construction of a city rivaling the fairness of Tirion upon Tuna, back in Valinor. He built the city they called Gondolin, City of the Singing Stone, upon the hill Amon Gwareth in the middle of Tumladen, wich Aenorean had named after his father who had perished in the War under the Stars.

Aenorean helped Turgon to move his people to the Hidden Vale, and together with his grandfather he built in the heart of the city the most beautiful fountain. Together with his grandfather Aenorean was one of the founding members of the House of the Foutain, of the Twelve Houses the second nearest to the heart of Turgon, Lord of Gondolin.

Of the Fall of Gondolin

But then along came Morgoth. Maeglin had given the location of Gondolin to the Dark Lord in return of richnesses. He gathered an army big as the Plain of Tumladen could hist and many more, and made for Gondolin. This army was filled with not only orcs, but also Dragons and Balrogs, the giant demons of Fire. Also with them was the chief of the Balrogs, the strongest and oldest of them all: the demon Gothmog. Turgon and Ecthelion had positioned their houses on the Square of the Palace, at the center of the city. They would be the last line of defence against the Power of Evil that was doomed to crush them. They did not yet know the true vastness of this terror, for when they saw the Host of Morgoth they all shivered: Gothomg, the Lord of Balrogs was with them. Ecthelion commanded Aenorean to flee and save as many souls of women and children as was possible, by taking them to the tunnel Tuor only told him about. He ran up the stairs of Gar Ainion, the Place of the Gods, where he could oversee the damege that was done, and the lives that could still be saved. From that point he saw his grandfather fighting with Gothmog. There and then he perished, Echtelion grandfather of Aenorean. But not without taking the strongest soldier of the Evil Master with him: whence he leaped into the Fountain of the King he took with him Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, Demon of Morgoth.

Whilst this was happening and Aenorean was helplessly watching, the Enemy was climbing the stairs to the Place of the Gods. Aenorean lamented the statues of the Valar: "Oh, mighty Valar, this will be the day that Gondolin falls, but not the day that the Enemy falls. Bless me, who is doomed to die, with your power, so that I may take as many with me to the Halls of Mandos as I can. Let this be day at wich the Dark Lord does not want to think, for the losses that he made on the Stairs of the Valar!" And the Valar granted his prayer: at Aenorean's command Manwë would cast lighting bolts big enough to harm a strong bred dragon. Of Aulë he learned the power to control fire and to direct it at Evil. Yavanna summoned a great bear and a young eagle of Manwë for him, who would guard him when he was in danger. So was his name created: Aen orë an, He Who was Urged by Them, Aenorean. With these newly acquired powers he drove of the Enemy, and they leaved the Place of the Gods, at least for that moment. Then came Idril and Voronwë, wife and friend of Tuor, daughter and messenger of Turgon. With a small host they came to the high place, flying for the Orcs that had burned their houses. But here they were safe, because of Aenorean and Voronwë. But then the last House, except for that of the Wing, who was retreating to Gar Ainion, fell: the House of the King fell and then came many dragons to the roots of the Tower of the King, and they brought it down. So ends Turgon, son of Fingolfin, King of Gondolin.

This the survivors took as sign to depart Gondolin, but they could not get to the house of Tuor with so litlle power. And allas, there came Tuor, with the House of the Wing following behind. They fought their way to the house, and once there they let all women and children in first, fighting whomever tried to stop them. And eventually they had escaped, coming back above the ground just north of Amon Gwareth, and they fled.

Of the Halls of Belegost

Aenorean afterwards lived not in the Havens of Belfalas, where most of his kin abode, but he travelled to Eriador, that was less corrupted by the infiltrants of Morgoth. He and his following travelled trough the lands of Eriador to Hithaeglir, the high Misty Mountains in the east. With his follwing were also men, Easterlings that had come later over the Ered Luin, and were thus not reckoned among the Dunédain. He made his yourney to the Pass of the Blue Mountains trough the Haunted Forest of Taur-im-Duinath to the merry Forest of Ossiriand, though it was then not more so merry. This he did to avoid the watching eye of Morgoth and his subjects. It was a perilous jouney, and many an elf and men died in the woods. But at last they came to Ossiriand, a beacon of hope in the east of Beleriand. There the host rested for a bit, but after that they made for the dwarven city of Belegost.

There they were not welcomed warmly, for they still remembred the deeds of their kin against their southren kinsmen in Nogrod. But after covincing Barazgabilbund, Lord of Belegost, son of Azaghâl, that they were not friends of Thingol indeed, they were showed a place to rest. Yet the Dwarves cosisted that the Men would sleep apart from the Elves. And so it was. When the night fell and the guests of the lord came to sleep, Aenorean was yet awake. He was thinking about the way that he would take and were he would go to. He could stay here, for he felt that the Dwarves of Belgost did not like them. And his suspicions were right: that night a party of Dwarves under the command of Skorgrím the Old attacked the Elves, though they were not instructed by Barazgabilbund to do so. Aenorean, who was awake, could escape, but all the other elves perished in that hour. He waked the Men they fled to the lands of Eriador. Skorgrím the Old and his companions were expelled from the halls of Belegost, and they dewelt afterwards on the east side of the Ered Luin, and were called the Dourhands. Aenorean promised to once take revenge for his kin.

Of the Founding of Bree

Aenorean and the Men had fled over the Great East Road, a traderoute established by the Dwarves between the cities of Belegost and Nogrod, and the realms of the Kings of the Iron Hills in Iarnfast. After some weeks on the road they came to a hill at the second crossroads of the East Road and the Road to Khazâd-dûm. Here they set their camp. Breech, leader of the men that came with Aenorean said to him: "Why are we still wandering? We are certainly not followed by the dwarves anymore, that I am sure. But ye will go still more eastward, further into unkwown lands. Why make we not here our abode and find a realm to last generations of Men?" "It is because I am afraid", said Aenorean, "I am afraid of the Dark Lord that destroyed my home, and that now has influence over almost all of Middle-Earth. I want to flee as far from him as I can." "But be not afraid," said Breech, "for I will defend this lands from Evil, as long as I may live, and all my descendants will help any stranger, as long as he is not a friend of Morgoth." And so it was settled: they found the town of Bree on this hill.

Of the War of Wrath

30 years had passed since Bree was found, when a Dwarven messenger came from the Halls of Nogrod to them. This dwarf was travelling to Khazâd-Dûm, and when he found this small village, he decided to rest there for the night. But when he came to the South Gate, he was taken and was brought before Aenorean and Breech. The older generation still remeberd the killing of the Elves, and they were not happy to see him. The Dwarf was shocked and spoke to the Two Lords of Bree: "What have I done to thee, that a traveller is treated so harshly?" Breech spoke to him: "Do not do as if thou does not know what evil thee have done to our friends back in the halls of your king Barazgabilbund! What does yer master want to tell us?" "Then this must be a mistake!", said the dwarf. "I am from the halls of Nogrod, and I come not for ye, but for my brother far away in the east. I come to bring a message about the war that now certainly begginning to unfold. But my kinsmen in the north have indeed not yet told me of your sorrow. What is it, for I am truly sorry about it." He spoke indeed like a true dimplomat, tempering the Lord's heart. Breech answered: "Then we are sorry that we had mistaken thee. For your cousins have killed all the Elves that were in our company, but as ye can see, one has escaped the slaughter. But tell me, what war is starting, for surely the Free Peoples of Beleriand can not have enough strenght to challenge that of Morgoth?" The Dwarf said: "Indeed, the Free Peoples are aligning once again to fight the Evil, but we cannot do it alone, that is for sure. That is why I am seeking for forces that can spared to fight him." Breech set the dwarf free and he and Aenorean travelled back to Beleriand, to fight one more war.

Aenorean and Breech travelled with two only and used the East Road to get to Beleriand. They decided to pass by Belegost, to take revenge. After some weeks they arrived at the gates of Belgost and they were this time, to their suprise, welcomed very warmly. They were led to the lord Barazgabilbund. The lord spoke to his two guests: "Welcome again, my friends. I hape that you will stay longer this time, if it was not for the unfortunate events of your last visit." "Why are you so friendly", said Aenorean, "to one you tried to kill the last time that you saw him? For we have not forgotten the end of our last visit" "Because that was not my plan, to kill you. That was a party of dwarves of Nogrod, and I am very sorry for it. These Dourhands, as they are called, we have expelled. Skorgrím the Old had instructed them to kill whatever elf they could see. It was also he who was the Master of the Guestrooms, so he it was that seperated the Elves from the Men." "And why would I need to believe thee?", asked Breech. "Thou mayst kill me if you will. If that seems you a fair price, and if thou thinkst me really the enemy." And Breech was just about to kill the Lord, when Aenorean hindred him. "Wait," he said, "this is an honest dwarf. We ought too seek for Skorgrím, if we need to make revenge. But revenge can wait, for there are far more pressing matters. We have not come here, we have come to consult about the war. For a messenger of your cousins in Nogrond had a letter with invitation for war for his kinsmen in the east." The lord replied: "So it is indeed. War is coming. There are rumours that the Valar are gathering an army to come over the sea."

And then the Host of the West had landed on the shores of Beleriand. It sent it messengers to all realms in Middle-Earth, to invite them for the war. Aenorean, Breech and Barazgabilbund and his host of volunteering dwarves marched to the Host. They travelled with the Host to Anfauglith, the giant plain before the Thangorodim underneath wich lay Angband, the fortress of Morgoth. The batlle was hard and long-fought: it lasted more than 40 years, and many perished on both sides. But the Valar where with them, so the army of the Dark Lord was pushed back and was devastated by the Host of the West. Thangorodrim fell by Acalagon, Greatest of Dragons, himself, and Earth was shifted: water was starting to rise and in a few years, all of Beleriand had dissappeard. Tulkas punched Morgoth trough the Door of Night, and he was kept there forever. Breech had died in the fighting, and he was buried afterwards in the hill of Bree.

Of the Revenge of Skorgrím

When the lands of Beleriand were cast under the see by the great flood, Aenorean moved to Lindon, the realm of the High King Gil-galad. There he dwelt for some years peacefully. But the evil would not be gone forever, for not all the luientenants of Morgoth had perished under the Host of the Valar. Such as Skorgrím the Old, who was not under the dominion of the Dark Lord, but was evil with other reasons. He and his expelled companions still dwelt in the eastern ridges of the Blue Mountains. Though they did not particapte in it, the War did not go unoticed to them, and so also they had knowledge of the moving of so many peoples. They did not like that their side of the Ered Luin was stolen by the Elves who lost their homes in the flood. So the Expelled Dwarves devised a plan to attack the Elves. And so they attacked the elves while they were still building new homes. It was a minor skirmish, but that did not make it less important. When the news reached the halls of Gil-galad, the High King sent Elrond and Aenorean with a company to deal with the matter.

When Elrond Halfelven and Aenorean Men-Fried arrived in the little realm of Skorgrím, they put up their camp at the feet of the ridge in wich Skorgrím delved his halls. They pretended to sleep, to persuade the dwarves to attack. And this the dwarves did. They came silently to not wake to elves but then suddenly the elves who were not sleeping leaped forth a killed all the attacking dwarves, save one. This one surviving dwarf ran to the throne of Skorgrím and shouted: "O Lord, forgive for all my kinsmen have been lost. We were ambushed by the elves, and now surely they are coming towards us. Muster the men that you can gather, and evacuate the women and children! O hail, we are doomed!" And the Old Skorgrím knew the time of him and his people was over, and knew it was lost, so he decided to make one last stand. He came out of the ridge and challeged the elves: "Come, ye sneaky elves! Come and have fair fight, not with suprise or trickery, but woth skill and power you will need to eliminate your enemy! Send forth your strongest warrior and let the war be decided by our battle." Aenorean answered: "I will challenge you, Lord of the Expelled, Lord of Sneaky People. For it were your dwarves who sneaked upon our camp, and we only defended ourselves. The benefit of suprise that you speak of, was only with us because the dwarves thought to be sneaking upon sleeping people. But let us not bicker about unimportant things, and let us proceed to batlle." Then Aenorean came to Skorgrím the Old, and they started the fight. It was a hard and weary fight, and both sides fought valiantly. The two were evenly matched, but the youth of elf, at least in elvenyears, gained the upperhand and the battle turned quickly. Then Aenorean spoke to Skorgrím the Old, just when he was about to struck his sword: "This stab I will give you in memory of my friend that thou hast slain in the Halls of King Bazargabilbund, and the ones thou hast killed in the last months on the ground of Lindon itself." And Aenorean struck the sword and so Skorgrím the Old ended, but the sword of Aenorean was broken by the hardness of a drwarves skin. From that day on Aenorean has never again wielded a sword to fight until the return of Angmar, and only used the powers that were given to him by the gods.

Of the Finding of Imladris

Aenorean wanted to vistit the elven realm of Lothlorién on the east side of the Misty Mountains, and he goed therefore to Ost-in-Edhil. From there he could pass the Misty Mountains by going trough the realm of Khazâd-Dûm. There he met Celebrimbor, mighty smith and lord of Eregion. Aenorean spoke to him, talking about tides in their lands, learning from each other and sharing in lore. But then it was time to move on to the West Gate of Khazâd-Dûm, and he travelled for several days. But when he came to Gate, he was not let in. For among the guard of the West Gate was the one surviving Dourhand, who, thinking Aenorean would recognize and kill him, spread lies about the elf. So he was not let in. Thus Aenorean sought for another way to cross the Hithaeglier. He wandered for many years uncounted on the west of the Bruinen and to the north of Eregion seeking for passes over the Misty Mountains. He found one pass over the mountains, the Pass of Caradhras, but he deemed it to perilious to take. After many wandering he came to a beautiful valley. In the north of that valley he saw a pass over the Misty Mountains, but that was now litlle intrest for him, for it was harder on his mind to find a place to rest, and this valley was this place. Trough the valley flowed the river Bruinen and a mighty drop made a magnificent fall in this Vale. This valley bacame later known as Imladris, Deep Dale of the Cleft, or Rivendell. It was from this day that Aenorean bacame known as Aenorean of Rivendell. Yet the city was not yet there, for that was only built during the War of Sauron and the Elves. In Imladris Aenorean lived with a little follwing of outlaws and wanderers, and it was a safe haven in a dorren land. It was hidden and they did not send many messengers, so only a little group of experienced map-masters and lore-master knew of its existence, and even less knew where it lay. One day one of these few messengers, one named Istimladolen, came back from Ost-in-Edhil with the news that Sauron, a luitenant of Morgoth had returned and had waged war upon Eregion.

Of this Aenorean took notice, but he did not send troops or gave counsil, for he had not many to spare and he had seen enough fighting for a lifetime. But when the messenger they chose to gather news about the war did not came back one day, they lamented him, being certain he had been slain. But this was not so. This messenger was Istimladolen, and he had ignored the order of Aenorean to come back immeaditly, for he had pity with the host of Elrond and Celeborn. Elrond's host was with far too few, and Sauron's host far too many. Istimladolen led Elrond and Celeborn to the valley, and Elrond called it Imladris. Here Elrond built an encampment, wich grew out too the fair elven city and stronghold of Rivendell. Not long after Sauron came besieged Imladris, but thanks to narrow pass Rivendell survived. Two years the siege lasted, but it was driven off by the Men of Numenor that had landed in Lindon. The siege was lifted and Aenorean proceeded to live peacfully in Rivendell for the rest of the Second Age, until the War of the Last Alliance.

Of the War of the Last Alliance

When the plans of alliance against Sauron became known to Aenorean, he proposed to plan and prepare in Rivendell. So it would be, and Aenorean himself and Istimladolen were sent as messenger to Gil-Galad and Elendil respectively. He informed Gil-Galad and told him to gather beneath Weathertop, where they would meet with Elendil. When he returned from Lindon, he passed Bree and he tought of Breech. He went to the place where he burried him in the hill, he saw that it was overgrown with plants, plants with very large leaves. After some time, he went to a local inn, called 'Ye Prauncin Powny'. He went inside and asked people if they still knew who Breech was, but none of them seem to knew. After all, an Age had past since Bree was found. The barman came to Aenorean and said: "I am the innkeeper here. My name is Bart Butterbur. You know, butterbur, these plants with their big leaves? They grow here on the hill. But I was getting to my point: what would you like to eat?" Aenorean realised that this Butterbur might well be a far descendant of Breech, his family being named after the plant that grew on his grave. This encouraged Aenorean, and he in his turn encouraged the men of Bree to come with him, like Breech had long ago done and sworn. And so it was Aenorean arrived at Weathertop with a small troop of Bree-men.

After the years of planning, the Host went south to Mordor and fought on the Battleplain. Bart commanded the Men of Bree and Aenorean fought alongside Elrond with the forces of Rivendell. The Alliance began to besiege Barad-dûr, but after seven years Aenorean himself managed to lure Sauron out of his gates with a clever trick. Then he fought Elendil and Gil-Galad on the slopes of Mount Doom, and though they were deadly wounded, Sauron fell and was defeated. The host returned home, Aenorean and Bart Butterbur had survived, but many Breemen had died in the fight. Bart went back to Bree, Aenorean to Rivendell, and for some time there was peace.

Of Aenoreans Travels

Aenorean made a lot of travels in the Third Age, but he did those on different occasions during the Third Age, so all will be listed here, because he documented most of his travels himself.

I am Aenorean the Traveler, and I shall tell you some of my adventures.

Journey up the Anduin

Long ago, when Anduin the Great was not yet spoiled with battle, I made a journey to seek the source of this famous Springless and Endless river. I started in Haven of Pelargir. "I would like a boat, but small enough to navigate a river", I asked the skilled shipmen there, for I knew their forefathers were the Sea-people, ship builders of great renown. "Why would you sail a river, o so small, inward to land, when with a ship you heve the whole wide sea before you? Instead of going backwards where feet have already wandered, I counsel you to go forwards where men have never gone, to the unexplored oceans before you, with countless possibilities", answered one of the shipmen. I did not agree: "Though many undiscovered questions lie in the reaches of the vast sea, it is sometimes better to answer the unaswered questions we already have." The shipmen could not make me such a boat, for they were only skilled in the majestic ships for the sea. But I could make one for myself with ease, for it is easier to go back to the known than to go forward into the unknown.

Thus I traveled with my boat up the Anduin. I came trough Osgiliath the Grand and past Ithilien the fair. When I came to the Golden Rauros-falls, I went on land, for I could not seize the Falls with my ship. There I encountered a village, yet it was fortified and strong with stone, almost a city, were it not for the size. I entered the local pub and declared: "O, how a nuisance are those relentless cascades of the Rauros!" I said, but the townsfolk did not agree. "Do you then not see the epicness and the grandeur and the majesty of these powerful, mighty falls? It is beautiful", they answered me, and I agreed: "It is beautiful indeed." Then I went on with my journey. Trough all the Wilderland I paddled and I was already far past the point where I had to leave my boat because of the narrowness of the river. There I saw another village, small and quiet. I entered the local pub and declared: "O, how dull and uninteresting is the little stream here, that southwards large and mighty is!", I said, but the townsfolk did not agree. "Do you then not see how soothing and quiet and peacful the stream is up here? It is beautiful", they answered me and I agreed: "It, too, is beautiful indeed"

But my journey was not over. It was still long before the quiet stream wholly ended and became a spring. Because before I was the source, I saw Orcs roaming about, for I was near Gundabad. So stealthily I passed the last few miles. When I finnaly came to the source of Anduin the Beautiful, I wanted to taste it, but it was nasty, because of the filth of the Orcs. "How intriguing, that such a mighty and beautiful thing can come from such an evil and filthy beginning", I wondered and I set out again, to a new adventure.

Journey trough Northern Eriador and Forochel

On a sunny day in April, I had the idea the venture to the north: an unknown, cold and mysterious land. Over the Mountains of Angmar and the Hills of the North lies a great plain, stretching vast areas, white as far as the eye can see. Nowhere was there anything to be seen, no tree or any other kind of shelter. It was dark there, because in the winter, so far north, the sun will not shine its warm rays. Yet very far away I could discern a dark figure between all the white snow. I went towards it and it appeared to be some goblin of Angmar that was exiled to the bitter cold of Forodwaith. But the goblin was very friendly and skillful with his hands. He showed me the creations he had made out of the snow: towering castles, grand temples and intricate sculptures, a lifetime of work. Suddenly, his joy faded: "When the sun shines here again", he said, "all this, and I, will perish" His words lingered in my mind, as sun came climbing over the hills far behind us.

I walked further on this Endless White Plain when I noticed a camp in the distance. So I set course for it, and when I arrived, I was met by men clothed for harsh temperatures. The camp was not really a camp it was a decently developed village. "We are the Lossoth Watchers. We camp here in the harsh cold, near to the enemy, to defend our people from the Dark Sorcerer." I could deduct they meant the Witch-king of Angmar, but he had long since fled his lands after the Stone-king drove him away. "Well, have I got joyous news for you," I said them, "the Sorcerer is gone and driven off. You can go back to your people at Forochel!" But they did not want to return. "O great gods above, what do we do now? We have built our houses here and this now is our home, but our task is fulfilled. After generations of protecting it has been for naught. We yearn for our people in Forochel, because of the stories of our sires who told it is our home. But now this camp is our home and we would not like to leave it." The eldest of this camp, who seemed very near to dead, said: "I still remeber Suri-kyla from my young days. I would very much like to see it again before I died." One of the younger folks replied: "But we know it not, and this here is the only home we have ever known. Would you ask us to leave it?" And so they started bickering. Many years later, I returned to the Endless Plain, and on the location of the camp I saw nothing and to Suri-kyla, no one had returned.

I found that I had seen enough of this Plain, even though it may be Endless, it also Empty. So I set out south, with no real plan except to get out of this cold, bitter north. When I saw the beginnings of the hills of the North Downs looming in the distance, I spotted a watchtower. When I arrived at the foot of this watchtower, I saw an old man sitting beside it. "Hello sir, who are you, if I may ask?", I asked. "Oh, I?", he said, "I am an old man, still dwelling on old disasters but afraid of new ones. That's why I am here, at this watchtower. Every day, I go up to look, to look for far away from here, to dangers from that distant, unkown besnowed lands ahead. Yet I also look behind me, to make sure no familiar and former dangers come back to haunt me. I used to be a ranger, you know? Also guarding the land, but then still unfearing and active. But one day I lost my companion, and since that moment I sense threats everywhere." The old man sighed. I thought for sometime and then answered: "You seem to have been frozen, frozen in time. Ever since you lost your friend, you have looked to the terrible past and the uncertain future. But maybe you could try living again in this present? Not that all looking forward is bad, I was actually just about to take a look atop this tower to map out my way." He went with me and described all this lands that were for him his past, but for me my future, and with a thankful smile, he set me on my way.

WIP

Friends and Enemies

Friends:

• Yarionrod
• Kaylee
• Duntelgan

Enemies:

• N/A

Gossip

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