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[Solinox]

A procession of heavily armored knights made their way through the streets of Ansteorra, the slow galloping of their ostrix mounts accompanying the shifts of plated armor and metal weapons. Indeed, all appeared to be relatively high-ranking officers, but one figure stood out from the rest, despite his central position in the mounted escort.

The majestic winged helmet of elven make, decorated with red hair too fine to be that of a horse, rode in full battle regalia. To the commoners who knew him by reputation alone, there was no denying that this was the former Lord Commander of Ansteorra. Though proud in composure, his grave sadness was well-masked by the nosepiece of his helm. His leave was sudden, and perhaps only fully explained to the one person in Feanor whom he truly loved.

The elf held a trio of lillies in the digits of his riding glove, occasionally twirling them with a particular degree of care. In the other hand, the order of recall that had so suddenly, so cruelly caused the whole thing.

[Shayde Enkiar]

At the very edge of the Merchant's Quarter, just before the city molds into Tumbledown Gate and the slums beyond, Averon Cartography displays a rather meager scribbled sign in the shop window.