"You have been in Angband, I perceive."
Iaun stood still and silent, and gave but one terse nod. “Have you some power of sight?”
“Observation,” the stranger said. “You are Elven, but not Noldor, not Vanyar, and only tenuously Teleri. Clearly Moriquendi, you’ve never been to Valinor. Your green raiment marks you as one who has often dwelt in the forest, but you are not quite so . . . feral . . .as some, so I deduce that you are one of the people of Lenwë, who heeded the summons of Oromë at first but later turned aside down the Anduin. You adjust your body weight as one who has worn armor in the past but now does not, preferring stealth in what you see as your maimed and weakened condition. You have a steel sword, well-made if plain and simple, and it is not of Noldorin make - oh no, it definitely wouldn’t be - so clearly you have had contact with at least someone who has had at some time had contact with the Naugrim, most likely by way of Doriath. You know how to use it, but the callouses on your hands and the way you carry yourself tell me that you are more confident with your bow and arrows - or at least you were before you sustained a wound to your shoulder that did not heal as completely as it should. Therefore, you were wounded in battle with the cruelest of enemies, who prevented you from access to immediate healing, most likely by taking you prisoner for a time. Though you have your own skill in healing - I can tell that by the scent of the herbs in that pouch you keep close to your chest - you were not able to bring it to bear enough to repair the damage fully. It must have been the battle where Lenwë’s son Denethor fell, was it not? You were taken by surprise while trying to help a comrade. You have a strong moral principle, but you are wary and slow to trust. Oh, and you are small of stature among your people, and you hoped to compensate for that in deeds of renown. You are motivated to take risks, and you are drawn to dangerous situations.”
***
Once I get back into the groove of it, Sérelókë is every bit as fun to write as his London counterpart. Maybe even more so.
“Observation,” the stranger said. “You are Elven, but not Noldor, not Vanyar, and only tenuously Teleri. Clearly Moriquendi, you’ve never been to Valinor. Your green raiment marks you as one who has often dwelt in the forest, but you are not quite so . . . feral . . .as some, so I deduce that you are one of the people of Lenwë, who heeded the summons of Oromë at first but later turned aside down the Anduin. You adjust your body weight as one who has worn armor in the past but now does not, preferring stealth in what you see as your maimed and weakened condition. You have a steel sword, well-made if plain and simple, and it is not of Noldorin make - oh no, it definitely wouldn’t be - so clearly you have had contact with at least someone who has had at some time had contact with the Naugrim, most likely by way of Doriath. You know how to use it, but the callouses on your hands and the way you carry yourself tell me that you are more confident with your bow and arrows - or at least you were before you sustained a wound to your shoulder that did not heal as completely as it should. Therefore, you were wounded in battle with the cruelest of enemies, who prevented you from access to immediate healing, most likely by taking you prisoner for a time. Though you have your own skill in healing - I can tell that by the scent of the herbs in that pouch you keep close to your chest - you were not able to bring it to bear enough to repair the damage fully. It must have been the battle where Lenwë’s son Denethor fell, was it not? You were taken by surprise while trying to help a comrade. You have a strong moral principle, but you are wary and slow to trust. Oh, and you are small of stature among your people, and you hoped to compensate for that in deeds of renown. You are motivated to take risks, and you are drawn to dangerous situations.”
***
Once I get back into the groove of it, Sérelókë is every bit as fun to write as his London counterpart. Maybe even more so.