You are thoroughly done with the completely unacceptable level of your speech; it is time to finally master this language. In order to do so you return to your old 'friends', the clan children. Most specifically you want to ascertain what about your speech they find funny, as those are usually the errors you are making. They are also much more willing to correct you when you make a mistake even if it means being rude, unlike adults who are typically too polite. You come away from that particular exercise in useful humiliation with a realisation that you have been using the infinitive form of verbs exclusively. It was an easy mistake to make, particularly given that you have focused on speed and fluency over accuracy. You set out to correct this persistent error immediately.

You spend nearly the entire first morning of the week wandering around camp talking to anyone who is willing to do so. Some you ask about their weeks or things that have happened in their pasts. Others you ask about the future, what their plans are. Others still you discuss the present with. What they are currently doing. You listen carefully as people speak and start to get an idea of what tenses are used when. After a few tentative successes in using tenses yourself, you return to the children for their usual round of corrections and mockery. By the time you leave, now knowing more about the self-contradictory imaginary world of Sadeth than you ever wanted to, you are confident that you can now use verb tenses correctly. You also leave convinced that these children need to read more, or at all.

After your initial success you unfortunately do not have much more time in the rest of the week until it is nearly over. Your schedule was consumed with hunting, the incident with the mage child and the conversation you had with Tamlen. Your conversations throughout the week also prove that you are now speaking, not just correctly, but more correctly than most people who grew up speaking the language. Admittedly, you do not yet match them in fluency, it takes a few moments to find words sometimes, but in vocabulary and grammar you do. Any further grammar or vocabulary you learn will have to come from outside of a normal speaking context, such as from poetry, song or unusual prose. If you want to make real progress to the next stage of linguistic proficiency you need a project. If you give yourself the task of writing something you will be forced to search out more unusual grammar and vocabulary.

The problem with choosing any big project, in your opinion, is the wealth of options that one must be chosen from. If you had infinite time you would write every idea that has ever passed through your head. Perhaps once you have found your brothers and you do have infinite time you will. For now, you briefly consider writing something original, but that sounds like it would require you to think about things you would rather not think about. Translating a great quendi work is also tempting. You'd love to teach your people's history in its original format or share some of the great works of song with the Dalish. The battle of Sauron and Finderáto is almost always popular with mortals and is much more palatable for your family than the rest of the Lay of Lúthien. You hold back though; you are wary of sharing too much of your people's history and nature with the local. You are not sure why, perhaps you fear their reactions or perhaps you simply don't think it relevant. Maybe you fear what a full explanation of your people might reveal of your own nature. Even without this strange hesitation you see no practical use to such a translation. You decide then that a work on the culture of the Dalish would be the most useful project you could work on. There are many things about the Dalish you do not understand, and you do not trust yourself to notice and take interest in them should they come up. As Moryo was prone to say, if you deal with something before it's a problem then you never have any problems. It had failed to convince you to assassinate Thingol but it proved a useful thought in other contexts.

With your direction decided you now are faced with the question of what kind of cultural work you shall undertake. In order to ascertain what directions are open to you it will be necessary to first secure some supplies and second to begin investigating the Dalish culture. You have previously noted that the Dalish as a whole have a communal economy of sorts. Resources are gathered for the clan and then shared out as each needs to fulfil their role. Different resources are overseen by different individuals, Ilen the craftsman oversees weapons and armour for instance. Despite the theoretically communal nature of this economy the reality is a barter system is often used for things that are not strictly necessary. Goods or favours are often traded for luxuries or specific services, money seems to be present but not widely used. For your needs Paivel controls the very limited writing supplies and guards them jealously. You will need to speak to him about getting your hands on some paper or ink, but you have very little he wants. If all else fails, you could theoretically trade some of your knowledge though that will have diminishing returns going forward. Since this will be an extended project you decide to try to make something he will want first.

You are about halfway through pulping the wood you were planning on trading to Paivel for some paper when it occurs to you that the knowledge of how to make paper from wood might be something he's interested in. If he already knew then you'd probably have seen the evidence of its production in camp. In fact, such knowledge would be of great benefit to the clan as a whole, with access to the wood of the forest it would give them a trade good that could be exchanged for metal or animals or anything of use. Then you realise that you are trying to figure out what you could trade for paper and ink while making paper and ink. Once you are finished kicking yourself for your foolishness you set about making the paper, ink and pen yourself. Everything that you need is in the forest, though it does delay the creation of your project somewhat. You decide to put some thought into how best to go about managing paper production before you tell anyone how you do so. You will need to control the paper supply if you want to actually get the steel weapons and armour for your warriors instead of feeding the clan's insatiable need for textiles. Sheep aren't that expensive; they should buy those and learn to make their own clothes.

With the rest of your day taken up by making writing supplies you are left to consider what kind of work you want to produce. The question of which project to undertake is, as you expected, a difficult one. You know much of the day to day lives of the Dalish, you have spent time among them and can see them as you go about your day. You are also fascinated by the Elvish language. You consider writing an analysis of its grammar structure, phonetics and other linguistic features, perhaps even reconstructing the language from its base principles. In the end you decide that your best choice is to study the stories, tales and oral history of the Dalish. This will serve two purposes, it will stretch your command of the language as history and story are often told in an archaic or unusual manner; further it will serve to reveal much more of the Dalish people's culture, which is why you began this undertaking in the first place. The decision made, you take your newly made paper, pen and ink and set off to begin your project and first major piece of writing since your 'list of problems Turko has caused me'.

You quickly realise that you have no idea how to find out about stories and oral history. Your first thought would have been to check with the clan children, but you already know they're a dead end. You've been to their lessons, and they don't get taught oral history or told stories. Most likely because they're told them by their parents, though if they are they do not share them when at play. You have seen no games where a child is a great hero or villain of old. Their parents would be your next group to check with if it were not for the fact that it's early evening at this point and everyone is busy preparing for dinner. Parents in particular are hunting down their children who have scattered to the four winds during the day. You end up deciding to try and spend some time with Paivel just to see what he knows. You hadn't realised at the time, but this ended up sending you on an odyssey of pointlessness. It began with a cook flagging you down to fetch some cookware from a storage wagon. Seeing no harm in such a simple request, you had foolishly agreed and off to the storage wagon you went. The cookware in question turned out to have been requisitioned by a child to serve as armour for a game. You then spent far too long hunting down said child only to find out that they had left the cookware in a different part of camp. When you got to that part of camp there was no cookware. Asking around revealed that someone else had picked it up. Tracking said person down you discovered that they had given it to the cooks! Before you'd even left! You thought that maybe you would be able to talk to Paivel during dinner, but you somehow got trapped in an interminably dull conversation about bees with a man who would. not. stop. talking. After dinner you ask after him only to find that he has gone to bed early. You decide then and there that you are not going to get any of your project done this week. You head to bed early yourself, hoping you will forget this entire ordeal. You do not, but oh how you wish you had.

You decide that this week will be a test of the training you have been putting your followers through. You will be taking your original hunting party with you and head out to hunt down the local bear population. Your targets should ensure a good supply of meat and force your followers to face their irrational fear of bears. You assemble your party at camp and check to make sure that everyone is using their smaller bows. You have also found that the leather armour they wear does serve a purpose when hunting, keeping them from being scratched or injured by plants or the occasional stumble. Unfortunately, you do not have a set yourself, none are your size and you're not spending valuable favours on getting one made for you. You dress instead as you always have on these hunts, in your slightly too small green shirt and brown pants. Once you have checked that everyone is equipped properly you set off to find the bears.

Your hunts have, for the most part, taken place on the same side of the river as the camp. This is mostly because of the difficulties in crossing a river but that is not the only reason. All the Dalish agree that on the other side of the river the forest becomes dangerous. Trees come alive and attack people, wild animals become larger and more ferocious, there are even stories of groups simply disappearing never to return. It was from the other side of the river that the bears that attacked you on your first week in camp came. It is to the other side of the river you go today. There is a ford a few hours march from camp that you can use to cross. Once you are on the other side of the river it will be up to your skills as a scout to get your hunters to the destination safely.

You are moving along a trail that one of the more experienced trackers insists is a bear trail. You would have said it was a cave troll, but you acknowledge there may be a slight bias in your tracking skills. As you follow the trail deeper into the forest, the sickly sweet sensation of dark magic slowly starts creeping into your conscious perception. You have stopped the party several times at this point. Your instincts had insisted every time that orcs will pour from the trees, but each time the only thing you heard was the groaning and cracking of falling branches. This time however it is not you who stops the party.
"The tracks have vanished." The hunter in the vanguard says.
It is a trap. You don't believe for even a second it could be anything else. Yet, before you can give a single command the presence of dark mage surges and two of the 'trees' lurch forward.
"SYLVAN!" Someone yells.
The yell sends people into a frenzy of activity. Their training holds, fortunately, and they do not scatter into the forest like they had before. Instead, they form ranks and start to draw bows. They are then thrown into confusion when with another groaning snap and third 'tree' moves behind them. Unsure where to turn they fail to deliver the volleys that they have been trained in. You realise that if you do not act now then this encounter will quickly become a slaughter when these twisted mockeries of an Ent reach your lines.

"A circle! Form a circle, warriors of the Dales! A circle on me!" Your voice roars out the command as though you stood on the fields of Beleriand once more. You place your faith in your training, and you trust in your warriors. That faith has always been rewarded in the past and you have no doubt it will be rewarded again.

Let Morgoth keep his endless hordes of ill-trained horrors, for your faith in training and discipline pays off once again. Your Dalish archers hear your words and begin to form a rough circle around you. It is neither as swift nor as well ordered as you would have liked, a few people move for the same spot and delay the action. The end result is more of a rounded square than a circle, but it will serve. Stabbing your sword into the ground in the middle of the line facing the two Sylvans you command your warriors.
"Don't waste your arrows! Left of sword left Sylvan, right of sword the right! All behind me the one behind. At will LOOSE!"

The crack of bowstrings and the slither of wood on wood fills the air. Many arrows bound off wooden arms or strike harmlessly, the volley's effect blunted by the lack of iron arrowheads. The Sylvans roar in response and charge. You are filled with pride when the formation refuses to break. No one tries to draw their swords or flee, instead they keep up the steady rain of arrows. A groaning cry signals the end of the Sylvan on the left, one of the few iron arrows has found its 'heart'. Without hesitation the left side switches targets but you're running out of time. You heard another groaning cry behind you, and you decide to take a risk.
"A crescent! Centre before me withdraw! Swing out behind me, form wings!"
This manoeuvre proves to be simply too complex for you warriors. The circle side before you tries to withdraw but those behind you haven't managed to swing out. The two sides run into each other, and cohesion is dissolving. The press of bodies is preventing you from reaching your sword. All seems like it is about to turn to disaster when the crack of a bowstring heralds an arrow whipping past your ear to bury itself in the Sylvan's 'head'. You turn to see who killed it only to see Auriel grinning shakily at you.
"Pretty great shot eh?" She is trying to sound cocky but sounds more relieved than anything else.
"A good shot yes. Now that the danger has passed perhaps people could step away from each other so that I may retrieve my sword?"
There is a strange atmosphere among your hunting party now that the danger has passed. On the one hand you successfully fended off the ambush and no one was hurt. On the other hand, your formation fell apart at the last minute and people feel scared and ashamed. Clearly everyone needs a break to recover their morale and steady their nerves once more.

You lead your party a short way from the ambush site and say, "Take a break everyone. Ten minutes rest then we continue on our way." Your words are met with a sense of relief. The hunters either sit down to rest or mill about in conversation, boasting or commiserating. You do not join them, staying on guard as you are still in the dangerous part of the forest.
Auriel also does not join her peers, she approaches you and asks, "So, hypothetically, if I hadn't made that amazing shot that totally proves I'm a better archer then you, you'd have pulled out some kind of magic and set it on fire right?"
You turn slightly to see her and your surroundings at once. You answer, "While I would have done something, I would not have been able to act before we took casualties. Your 'amazing' shot saved lives. You should be proud."
Auriel fidgets a bit, "Obviously, my shot was great and I'm obviously much better than you. But I don't know, surely you had something?"
You sigh. Turning to face her you say, "I made a mistake. I thought that we could do more than we were ready for. That was my fault, and I had no secret plan or miracle solution when the plan failed. You saved many lives with your 'amazing shot' and you deserve the credit for it."
Auriel is silent for a few moments. Then, a smile sneaking across her face she says, "So what you're saying, is that I'm better than you?"
You roll your eyes as she chuckles at her own joke. Well, you hope it is a joke. She is nowhere near you yet.

Once you get the hunting party moving again, you quickly find a different set of bear tracks. These thankfully do not lead into an ambush but to a large cave. The bears that you can see lounging or patrolling near the entrance are larger than normal bears. The curse of this forest seems to have sunk into them to an extent as, in addition to their size, they're deformed and twisted in shape. Monstrous in appearance.
"Are these even edible?" And other whispers to that effect are passed around the group. It is a question that you yourself would like an answer to.
The answer turns out to be yes. According to your first follower, fade touched creatures are 'just fine' to eat. They have a slight effect on mages but it is nothing serious, strange dreams or something to that effect. The newfound discipline of your hunting party is quick to demonstrate itself as you split them up. This time the encirclement of the clearing is done in dead silence. You managed to keep a visual on everyone and no one climbs up a tree or tries to charge into the mass of bears. Quiet signals ensure that everyone is picking a different target. This time when you give the signal, stone tipped arrows fly true. A full half of the bears go down to well-placed shots, and the other half are slow to respond. They quickly become riddled with arrows, some of which find vital organs. By the time they begin to charge only two remain standing. Determined not to let Auriel get ahead of herself, you take both out yourself with swift shots to the eyes. There is a great cheer as your party steps into the clearing and you cannot help the proud smile that breaks out across your face when you witness your student's success.

You head back to camp with a spring in your step and a song in your heart. You might actually be dancing slightly. You bring your kills to a large clearing near camp and instruct your followers to begin preparing them. Then you head into camp, whistling softly, and gather up all the cooks and their cookware. You send them to the clearing where the bears are being butchered, where they are to prepare a feast. You then walk all throughout camp letting everyone know of your success, not proudly boasting regardless of what Merrill said, and telling them you are having a party in the clearing. You gather the best supplies you can and return to find that even in your absence the party is very much under way. Children laugh and run about, marvelling at the size of the bears and having fun helping build an enormous fire to cook them. Your smile is ever widening as friendly conversations start to break out and someone brings out a spirit they've distilled from local berries. Marethari speaks to you as you stand observing the gathering. "To what do we owe this impromptu feast?"
After you ask her what impromptu means you reply, "They had a hard hunt but they pulled together and managed to down an entire colony of demon bears. They also took down three of the tree creatures called Sylvan. They earned a celebration, and it will do them good to be rewarded for good work. It will help shake of the remnants of the terrible events a few weeks ago."
Marethari seems amused by your reply. "You must be very proud of them."
You disagree. "They are in desperate need of more training. They still struggle with more complex manoeuvres and their accuracy could be better. Not to mention they need better equipment. That is all before we even touch on their leadership and lack of experience. We were lucky that nobody died this week. I know they can be so much better than this."
Marethari nods a few times, smiling. "Well, I'm sure that if you were to tell them that they would be suitably chastised."
You scoff. You know very well what she's implying, it doesn't matter. You will make them the best warriors the Dalish have ever seen. It nothing to do with faith in them or any such romantic nonsense. It has everything to do with your experience and abilities as a teacher. You have seen far worse beginnings lead to much greater results.

Seeing the results of your training has made you something of a celebrity among the warriors of the clan. At this point you're fairly certain they all want to take part in your training. Unfortunately, you have far too many things to do to train them all, you direct them to those you have already trained for guidance. It will not be the same but it will be better than nothing. You have also somehow managed to end up organising the schedule for all the hunting parties of the clan in the week to come. Honestly can't these people do anything on their own. If that were all somehow not enough everywhere you go people recognise you as the one who threw the party. You have no intention of throwing another and you tire of people asking you if you will.