Having cleaned himself from the exertions of the day, Mithadan set about preparing dinner, a fish stew. "Fish yesterday, fish today and don't it look like fish tomorrow," Mithadan muttered under his breath. Accompanying the stew was a selection of dried fruits and the last of a fine vintage of wine. Tomorrow, the crew would need to make due with lesser spirits.
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Beleriand, Beleriand,
the borders of the Elven-land.
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