As I rest in my cell, strange memories seem to flow back to me, here, in Ered Luin.
It has been three days since my capture, after those ruthless Bree-landers decided to ambush me, whilst I was powerless. How cowardly, perhaps they fear the Legion that much that they have decided to attempt to stop any actions that I have put in place on Bree-land. They are too late.
I have already called forth my Spear-Master, Anarr Gashrank, one of the most ruthless spear-masters within the depths of the Isen. Word is, he is already in Bree-land, and, he isn't alone. I do hope he finds me soon, and has my capturere's heads on sticks.
For now, I must endure whatever these... people, have in store, but they have quite a surprise in store. I have not been chosen as the Lord of the Legion for nothing. They have chosen their fate.
Signed: Voldomir Mónazo Ómaz
