(FA 5; February 19)
Never try to ambush a party of lazy orcs—whoops, my blood got on the paper...
Oh well. I am now finding myself with a swollen black eye... At least, I think it's black. It could be purple, or blue. Not to mention several wounds on my arms, nicks on my back, and a gash down my leg. But this is nothing compared to the Helcaraxë. There's a reason why the first syllable of the thing is hell.
Maedhros has only looked at me once today. His eyes, set in that piercing grey, were glazed over, so I have a feeling that he may think he has been hallucinating my appearance.
I have progressed further to the middle peak of Thangorodrim. I just have to find away to get around the one on the right.
Morgoth hasn't spotted me yet, and neither have his servants. The orcs I ambushed earlier surely wouldn't be missed; I did annihilate all of them, but they fight dirty, in more ways than one. Maybe he's waiting for the right time to get me—but I'll get out of it.
I cannot lose hope yet.
Fingon