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Istuir / Feb 25, 2016
With the recent increase in readiness following the Lone-lands encounter and the discovery of a certain map Hirgonui ordered further patrols in a more localised fashion but going to a further than usual extent.

When entering an area known as Nen Emyn the Flower encountered several pockets of Yrch.

Commanded this time by Hiril Alfiriel four banners of 12 from the Flower ran them down and dispatched them all in swift fashion.

Once again though single riders on wargs were spotted commanding the raiding party, but this time there was no escape for these commanders. Having cornered what was left of the raiding party the flower put them to the sword.
Istuir / Feb 08, 2016
A careful eye a single arrow and a map is what led us to the Lone-lands

It would seem our enemy has grown bolder. Why? we do not yet know, suffice to say they they realized their folly all to swiftly as the banners of the Flower dealt them a swift blow.

The main concern was the escape of their commander. Where this course of events now takes us we have yet to see.

Curugirion / Oct 18, 2015
The turning of the year is evident once more: the deep greens of summer have switched to red and gold; rich, warm colours bedecking the trees of Eriador and Lindon.

Walking through the quiet glades, the grass underfoot is as a brightly dappled carpet; darting here and there, the squirrels make good the bounty of late nuts. Day and night, the cooling of Arda can be perceived, made visible in the veils of mist that cloak each dawn.

Soon, the trees will fall into slumber...

Curugirion / Mar 22, 2015
The first signs of regrowth appear around us, from the thawing of ice in the streams of the high passes of Ered Lindon, to the green shoots and bright colour of early flowers around Falathlorn.

So too within the Mithdirith are there signs of growth. A recent ceremony by the banks of the Lhun saw Nymiel, Telepara and Hallothon don the blue raiment of the wardens; three more hardy flowers, standing proud and fair in the early Spring sun, ready to step forth and protect the marches of Elven lands!

*Perfect screenie by Istuir!*
Curugirion / Oct 17, 2014

...and again the trees and swards are ablaze with the bright warmth of red and gold leaves - they give a hearty lift to the spirit, despite the cooling of the winds and shortening of the days; even now, Arien begins to curtail the sojourns of Anor into the airs above Arda and the long, clear nights of starlight doth approach. Menelvagor strides high into the sky - a celestial warden, ushering in this vigil of the stars!

The community toils busily. Eldar of both Celondim and Duillond take great delight in gathering the fruits of the harvest; the vales of Lhun and his tributaries resound with songs of thankfulness to Yavanna for her bountiful gifts, as the folk prepare and preserve foods for the leaner days that lie ahead. Hither and thither, along the paths of Falathlorn, do horse and cart wend their way, bearing barrel, jar, flask and sack to cellar, storeroom and pantry, in homesteads the length of the river's course.

During these calm Firith days, Elven artisans are also to be seen, working atop the roofs of Falathlorn, replacing broken or missing tile and slate; their craft and masonry ensure that each dwellinghouse and tower the valley over is wind and watertight.

Rhîw tôl...
Winter is coming...
Curugirion / Apr 26, 2014
And so the day of Yestarë recedes into the past, and the chills of winter relinquish their grasp on the winds of Spring. Cherry trees stand joyfully in the green meadows, clad in their bright and dazzling raiment of blossom...heralds of the march of days toward the coming Summer.

As all that live upon this middle-earth venture forth from their winter slumber, the wardens of the Mithdirith also become a focus of activity. As a flower buds ere it opens its petals to the sun, so too does the herth pour a store of strength into the nascent flower: the Nethvaed are readied to face the rigours that await in the seasons ahead...
Curugirion / Nov 03, 2013
And so the wheel of the year turns once more...the season of autumn weaves its colourful magic from the leaves...a tapestry of orange, gold, red and brown kindles the hills and vales; berries and nuts in abundance offer great store for elf, bird and beast alike, in advance of the coming of winter.

Thus the wardens of the Mithdirith have returned to their new halls at Silithmar, and prepare to stand down, adopting a more reserved stance for the darker end of the year...
Curugirion / May 13, 2013
So at last, the Mithdirith boarded the Gwingriel at Mithlond and cast off on a short patrol along the coast of Harlindon.

For some of her complement, this was a new and unfamiliar experience; for others though, it was a welcome return to that which they loved - the sea. One could see the vibrant joy on some of their faces - a steady contentment that gave the seasoned mariners an air of confidence that stood in marked contrast to those who were strange to the environment - they who walked more carefully, and held more frequently to the bulwark - especially when the sea was running with a swell, and the stiff breeze set Gwingriel at an angle to the norm! Nevertheless, as the first couple of days passed, all made an effort to adapt to life on board and a semblance of routine settled upon the vessel and her crew.

By dusk on the second day, the Gwingriel was already nigh upon a hundred leagues down the coast from the mouth to the Gulf of Lhun. The sail was brought in and the crew enjoyed a relaxed meal, sitting on the deck as the sun dipped at last below the horizon. As they sat under the starry vault, it was explained by the conin that the ship would sail coastward through the night; with the arrival of dawn, the day's battle training would begin. The song and laughter continued for a time, but once the meal was over, and the vessel turned her prow eastward to the unseen coast, the wardens of the herth became silent, as their minds dwelt on what was to come with the new day...

It came to pass that the Gwingriel arrived off the shore, the sky above the rolling wooded hills of Harlindon rosy with the light of the growing ascent of Anor. Briefed and instructed by the conin in the preceding few hours, the warriors of the Mithdirith now put the theory into practice. A wide cove sat before them, hemmed in on either flank by rocky cliffs, but with a more gentle grassy slope ascending before them, up to a wooded crown of wind-swept coastal trees.

Following the direction of Aearandir and Istuir, the herth - armed for battle - poured over the side of the ship, moving swiftly through the surf in the formations demanded as they surged onto the beach. Archers and wardens moved in concert, suppressing the hypothetical foes that sought to repel the beach landing, as they pressed home the assault, gradually scaling the hill before them.

The conin, time and again, would call out to describe unexpected events unfolding, so as to help throw the warriors off - to have them think and respond on the fly. Just when the Mithdirith deemed themselves to have taken the hill, fresh 'enemies' would pour from hidden openings in the cliffs, to threaten the wardens' flank, and to cut them off from the safety of the Gwingriel...or an overwhelming force would roll over the crest of the hill, forcing an orderly retreat, maintaining the protective shield formations and archery volleys that would offer the best hope of withdrawing unscathed.

Aearandir would tap members of the herth, indicating a wound by arrow, or spear, and procedures to treat the injured and bear them to safety had to be executed. The day wore long and hard upon the troops. When they were offered a blissful hour to rest and eat, all were hushed, breathing deeply, eating, slaking their thirst, snatching what restful meditation they could, before the 'onslaught' began anew in the afternoon...

The relief was audible in the gasps and sighs of the herth as Curugirion signalled an end to the exercises. The Mithdirith mustered to be appraised of their performance before being dismissed to clean both their arms and armour, and finally, themselves - their ablutions aided with the welcome presence of a fresh waterfall at one end of the cove.

The evening was to be given over to well-deserved relaxation on the beach; uniform was excused, and all were invited to dress in raiment more aptly suited to comfort, dance and repose. A feast was prepared, and cooking fire lit on the high strand, while provisions and wine were unloaded from the Gwingriel. As the sun descended to the west, kindling the sea with fiery light, the folk of the Mithdirith gathered upon the sand, coming together to enjoy each others' company...