Nauriel

Nauriel of the House of Halboronionath, sixty winters told and the institutional memory of her line, dwells in the upland halls of Lamedon above the cold rush of Ciril. In her middle years she rode with the hillmen against the brigands of the high passes, and she yet keeps the dented helm of that summer upon the mantel of her hall. She is among the firmest voices for the King returned, holding with Angbor and the stubborn lords of the dales that the long waiting has worn the realm thin, and that the oath must at the last be honoured.