As the group slowly grew, Elennína became both more at ease, but more tense. The phrase; "The more, the merrier" sprung to mind, particularly in the dark forests of Southern Mirkwood. But while camaraderie brought with it warmth and perhaps even cheer (Definitely cheer, if the two jolly Hobbits that followed their surly counterpart back to the clearing were anything to go by - the additional Elf who had arrived also seemed far more pleasant than her current Eldar companions), it also meant a larger and noisier target for outside foes. Even without the mystery of Dôr-min-Taur casting paranoia in her mind, the denizens of this forest were hardly something tame. Giant spiders, goblins travelling from the Misty Mountains, trolls, bats, wolves... the list went on, and Elennína did not wish to tarry much longer.

"We must press on. Introductions can continue as we walk - regardless of what may have happened to the colony, it may still be a safer place to rest than the midst of the forest." Slinging her bow back over her head, Elennína stared into the darkness before her, where the trees grew thicker and blocked out the dying sunlight above. Although dark now, the last thing the group needed was to be travelling at night. The sun chased away more foulness than they knew until midnight approached. "Ardhalon - take the rear. Amran, Belós, the flanks." Ardhalon looked less than pleased at his task, but nodded stiffly and did as he was told. The latter two had previously been whispering to one another in their native Silvan language, eyeing up the Rohîr; as she knew how much the young brothers liked to gossip, she had no doubt they were wondering where his father got the title of Elf-Tongue. Before the group began to move, she turned to Húldas to answer his query. "I'm afraid I don't know of your brother; I've never been to the colony myself, and I'm simply here on behalf of a friend. I can only hope that the directions she gave me were sound." Her voice was blunt, as per usual - but there was a hint of sympathy there. She could understand what it was like to lose a brother, and she could only pray that everyone found their quarries alive and unharmed. At that, she unsheathed her fine Elven longsword, [i]Amaford[/i], and looked back towards the treeline.

After giving a brief nod to Lhindél and the two unnamed Hobbits, Elennína began leading the group onwards. If any were still hiding in the shadows, they could stay or follow; they only thing she cared about was getting to Dôr-min-Taur in one piece... and without getting lost. However, as time pressed on and the group continued to move, it would seem the directions given to her by Míriel were accurate. Even with how close together the trees were, they were much thinner than they had been before. The ground gave way to well-trodden paths, and signs of people began to appear here and there. A scarf caught on a bough, listing lazily in the breeze; initials on a tree trunk with messy stick figures, clearly carved by children; a makeshift sign, saying something along the lines of "Stop stealing my conkers" near a young chestnut tree. It wasn't long before the marks in the dirt gave way to a solid road, and as the trees suddenly thinned out, the group came upon Dôr-min-Taur.

Despite the stories that Elennína had heard about this place, she couldn't help but look upon it in awe. She had expected a small area; perhaps two or three acres, surrounded by a makeshift wall of wooden spikes no larger than fifteen feet. Instead what the group saw was a towering construct of dark stone, easily thirty feet high and stretching in both directions farther than even Elennína could see. [i]"Perhaps they were not so foolish after all... these walls would keep out even the most adventurous of spiders."[/i] Above, one could see parapets, and holes here and there along the wall likely for shooting arrows or pouring hot oil on enemies. 

"We should climb up - take a look around." The voice Ardhalon suggested, his tone matching the awe and surprise that Elennína felt. She considered the option for a moment, before glancing around to look at the others. If it had been just the four Elves, she wouldn't have hesitated... but leaving a group like this waiting out in the open was too dangerous, especially with the dark treeline so nearby.

"We're standing on a road; the gates won't be too far away." She replied, her eyes following faded wheel marks in the dirt to see which way to go. Left bore harsher marks than right, so that was the direction she took. As expected, the gates were only ten minutes away from where they had found the colony walls, and they too were magnificent. Standing tall at fifteen feet and made of a strong, fragrant olive wood, carvings had been made on the outside. Dwarves, Elves, Hobbits and Humans were all depicted on it, laughing and dancing, surrounded by food and wealth. Words bordered the picture in all the tongues of Middle-Earth, all giving the same message. [i]Welcome, friends.[/i] As she reached out the stroke the delicate words, she hesitated. The door bore no outside damage, and yet, it was unlocked. Not just that, but it was open. From inside what was undoubtedly a larger compound than thought before, there was silence. A silent colony and an open gate could mean only two things; the people had fled, or they were still within... wordless for some spine-chilling reason.