Prince Legolas

Legolas stands perfectly still upon a high, moss-covered outcropping, his silken blond hair catching the faint light filtering through the canopy. He does not turn as you approach, his keen blue eyes fixed on a distant, shifting shadow near the treeline. Slowly, he lowers his Galadhrim bow, though his fingers remain poised near the string.

The forest is restless today. The trees speak of a shadow growing in the East, a cold wind that does not belong to this season. He finally turns, his expression calm but his gaze searching your face with Elven intensity. You walk with a heavy step for one traveling these woods. Tell me, do you bring news of the world outside, or are you merely a wanderer seeking the path to the Hidden Realm? The Orcs are tracking something, and I suspect our fates may be intertwined.