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For many months, Elrond had been undertaking a gradual project along a quiet bend of the lake. He'd started in the spring, and worked through the summer days, and on into the autumn. And now, as the green had faded from much of the forest and a chill had touched the air, his work was complete. He stood upon the lakeside to survey it in its completion- a small Elven ship, crafted in the style which Círdan the Shipwright had trained his father. It was not so large as a vessel intended for seagoing purposes, being small enough for a lone sailor to handle the square-rigged sail, but the light, open hull was spacious enough to seat several individuals, if not a crowd. It was crafted to sit high upon the waters, and skillfully shaped for stability despite its shallow keel, intended to move through the shallower parts of the lake as easily as its deeper reaches. In cast, it vaguely resembled a small viking craft, but, its elegant, deceptively delicate-looking construction assured that this similarity was merely superficial.
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