Elleraden atteptmed to get to sleep, but it elluded him gracefully. He was totured by mental images, of the group arriving at the White City too late, or of them perishing on the journey. Slamming his fist on the ground, he made a solemn promise not to let the mission fail, even if he lost his own life in the process.
Eventually, he fell asleep, but was soon woken up by Islist. "Your turn for watch, friend." The ranger hurried to his assigned position, chatting with Durvagor as they stood sentry.
"You were up north, weren't you Elleredan?"
"Yes, I patrolled in the Blue Mountains for a time. Hard and bitter country; I prefer the darkest part of Mirkwood from those snow covered peaks."
"Aye, well here you are. Mirkwood."
"Yes, funny how these things work out."
The ranger looked over at the camp, and then back at Durvagor; a hint of a smile covering his face. "Since Islist is asleep, might you have a few more of those excellent songs?"
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