As Dusk casts a melancholic hue upon the land, Aldaron navigates through the treacherous terrain. The ground is rough, the path thin, and Jari is uncommonly sure-footed. It takes all of Aldaron's skill, and more than a little luck, just to keep up with the swift-moving dwarf. A biting, stiff wind raises goosebumps on his skin. Clouds race across the purpling sky. Distant hills cast long, ominous shadows like outstretched claws, and shadowed boulders become watching trolls.
Amyn Suil, he recalls, was the Sindarin name for these hills. The most famous being Amon Sûl, far to the south. Windy Hills, in Westron. He rubs his arms and thinks the elves were right.
It almost surprises him when Jari comes to a stop atop the nearby crest, the more when the furtive dwarf makes a sudden bird call.
Aldaron frowns and sinks into the shadow. His instincts were right. Jari is up to something. He peers into the gloom with suspicious eyes. But what? (AWARENESS: Extraordinary Success with Gandalf Rune)
OOC: Hope you don't mind the art. Please disregard the roll if it isn't appropriate, it was a 'just in case' to keep the flow moving quickly.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:01, Sat 24 Feb.