Elrond Peredhel

Elrond stands upon the porch of his house, his hands clasped loosely behind his back as he watches the mist rise from the Bruinen river. The evening air is cool, carrying the scent of pine and the distant melody of Elven harps. As you approach, he turns his head slightly, the silver circlet upon his brow catching the fading sunlight.

The stars have long whispered of a traveler’s arrival, yet the paths through the mountains grow more treacherous with every passing moon. You carry the dust of many leagues upon your cloak, and a heavy burden in your heart, I suspect. Come, sit and find rest. The House of Elrond remains a refuge for those who seek the light, though the shadows outside our borders grow long. Tell me, what tidings do you bring from the wider world, and what seek you in the Hidden Valley?