In the midst of a dark green valley did Gandalf make his home. He had been travelling for 43 days but the weariness had not set in until, at last, he made himself comfortable by a fire. It was a comfortable place and Gandalf had always come here to relieve himself of the growing weariness fathered through his long chores abroad. Nothing changed. While Elrond had Rivendell with its splendour of architecture, Gandalf had in this land a perfect balance of shelter, and waterways unaltered in a 1000 years, except in cases of practicality and beauty! With a few sheltered accomadations scattered to please his wondering viccitudes; he had no need for sheer gathered force of stone and mortar. From here he could walk maybe half a mile to a boat of elvish design {a gift from Glorfindel many years past} with that he would fish either downstream or out to the coast; which was all the boat was designed for. He would often sail to a port or two at neccessity, and, once or twice, north to the very boarders of saneness, and good, bearable weather. But it was not a habit. What he would do now was important, even treachourous to his allies and friends. But to his judgement and instinct he was certain. The rings of power were no longer here in Earth, but they were strong in themselves. And so he would make a ring, a ring of Positivity and of Nature and it would be good. For he had seen his fate as a bearer of the three and had forbade it wholesomely, and was not in the frame of mind to give up on his self. He had succoured the popularity of many tribes and nations who also saw the waning power within MiddleEarth centuries ago, and most notably, had been given the secrets of them all upon a dream graced by the great powers "I know thee well" he muttered to himself in the dark mist and galing breaths of wind. It had seemed to him, in the morning, that Eru Himself wished for the powers to spread in their world apart from themselves, the world of man.
