Aelimur
Aelimur shot back to his old self as he watched Ferethor and Maen opening the Archive door. He joined them silently, as they entered the strangly beautiful, but vast, halls. The young man stared in awe-inspired wonder.
"It's... beautiful." he spoke softly, to whoever would listen. You could tell by just the presence of the room that it wasn't a place for for shouting, or fighting. The archives were full of peace, quiet, forgotten and also not so forgotten memories. Ancient pains, and sorrows; yet also the greatest joy! And the loveliest music. The archives, they were to say, magical!
Ferethor knelt, retrieving an old peice of parchment. He recited a poem which was inscribed upon it.
Atharen said softly, "It is a part of 'Lay of Atlante', which sings of Numenor's downfall."
Aelimur broke in, remembering they only had so much time, "But old lores and bygone history is not going to help us much, gentlemen. What is to be done?"
After a while of waiting, Maen cried out, "Fantastic!" from a corridor across the large room from them. Aelimur, Ferethor, Atharen and Crystal ran over to her. Roryn stayed watch by the door.
"What have you found Lady Il Galoth?" the younger of the two guards whispered, "Have you found the papers you were looking for that will confirm suspicions?"
Maen looked up him, face almost glowing, "I have!"
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