Excerpt from Ranger 'Stalker' Hinruin. Eight of March, Third Age 2984.

My ribs have sufficiently healed that I am now once more fit enough to take on the road. I have remained in Imladris for too long already, even though Elrond has told me that messengers have been dispatched to the Ranger Council. It is not that I dislike being here, it is the opposite. This place feels like home all too easily. I find myself wondering if I could not stay here, just a while longer. I cannot afford such longings. I have my duty to uphold.

I have learned much in my stay here. I befriended one of the ancient Nõldorin Elves, named Silmeno. He is part of a company of the famed Nõldorin Archers. I have heard much of them, for they are the stuff of Legends and their levels of skill are things every Ranger strives for. They are masters of bow and blade, and while they prefer the former only a fool would assume they were any less dangerous with the latter. He is old, far older than I am and in his presence I felt like a child, yet for some reason he treats me like an equal. As the days went by and he kept visiting me, we grew closer and I told him, at his insistence, of the worries plaguing my mind. Of my fallen brother, Ranger Herthaf. Of the men I could not save. Of my own lack of skill.

In typical Elven fashion he did not chastise me, nor did he pity me. Instead he looked at me with compassion and understood. He told time and experience would eventually allow me to make peace with the memories that haunted me. He had a faraway look in his eyes when he spoke those words, and I can only imagine at what he had gone through. I have merely lived for a handful of decades. He has lived for centuries, if not more.

For the final of my issues, he bade me I accompany him to the training grounds, where his unit was training. There I saw the Nõldorin Archers in all their splendour and glory. As the sun illuminated the training field, their golden armour glistered in the rays of the sun. Their weapons, sleek and artistic while still maintaining their lethal and elegant look, were wielded with a calm confidence and certainty that I envied.

They were split in groups, practising against one another. They started off with a simple exercise, firing at target dummies an incredible distance away. It was unreal, even at this incredible distance the accuracy of their volleys was a sight to behold, few arrows going astray. Their bows sung in the daylight and their arrows flew straight and true. Their movements were calm and collected, as if nothing could perturb them. In all honesty I believe very little could. These Elves were the ancient protectors of Middle Earth and did not seem as if petty things such as morale would affect them easily.

Next came the close combat drills. They smoothly exchanged their bows for swords, their role in battle robbing them of a shield, and then they engaged one another in a string of duels. They danced around one another, blades whistling through the air as they displayed their incredible martial prowess. We Dúnedain pride ourselves on being able to switch between bow and blade with ease, as well as being proficient with both, but these Elves put my meagre abilities even further to shame and I am not ashamed to admit that I believe only a few of our veteran Rangers could have kept pace with them. Seeing them, I understood how the Elves had withstood the hordes of Orcs so many years ago. Imagining row upon row of these stalwart warriors, clad in heavy armour, unwavering in their duty, shooting down countless Orcs before joining in melee, continuing their courageous charge even long after us Men would have been exhausted, brought a tear to my eye.

Under Silmeno's guidance, while slowly nursing my broken ribs back to health, I trained with these Elves, who had perfected their art over the course of millennia. I felt akin to a child called in front of the elders, but they were kind, all, and they too understood the weight of the duty we Dúnedain carry, as they carry a similar one. Just like us, they are few, and the enemy is many.

I leave them now. I shall miss them dearly. They have taught me much and given me so much more. They have instilled a new confidence in me and my skills with bow and blade have improved remarkably under their careful tutelage. I know I am not a match for them, that a handful of days of training do not equate to centuries, but they have taught and I have learned.

It is now with a heavy heart that I depart the lands of Rivendell and set forth to the Council of Rangers, where I shall give my report on the Orcs of Gundabad.

I can only hope that my paths will take me here again.