Silvarin had never dismounted his horse during the battle, and he didn't now. Like Rorin, he was eager to continue - Mirkwood was drawing him back in a way he couldn't quite explain. He didn't want to have anything to do with the Elves of Lorien, however - he was uncomfortable enough around his own prince when they met in Rohan.
He couldn't help but admire the Ents, however. The elves sang songs about the tree-shepherds for ages past. Their race was as long-lived as the elves themselves, and Silvarin considered them quite wise and powerful. He spurred his horse forward to speak to Treebeard - the apparent leader, such as he was, of the ents, and one that Silvarin recognized.
"Namárië, Fangorn," Silvarin said as he nodded up to him. "To meet one of your reputation here is quite an honor."
"Young master Elf," Treebeard rumbled, "it has been many a year since I have seen... a sorcerer such as you among the elves."
Silvarin nodded. "There are few left who remember this art. It has been all but lost since the mighty trees of Mirkwood fell. But hopefully my comrades and I can purify it again."
"But... do not be hasty, young master Elf. I can see it... in your eyes. Save a moment..." Treebeard paused and turned to the battlefield, "...to remember the fallen. Hummm, yes." With that, Treebeard turned and walked away. Silvarin sighed deeply and wrapped his cloak around his shoulders. "I always am, Fangorn. Always."
Mirkwood Heavy Cloak
Possession • Cloak
Resistance: +1
Bearer must be an Elf. The minion archery total is -1.
Regroup: Discard this possession to discard a condition borne by a companion.
The elves of Mirkwood wove their cloaks with enchantments to ward off the Enemy's thralls.