Recording and recounting the times and tales of Imladris in the last ages of the Eldar.

There is here a remarkable sanctum, set aside from the rest of the world it possesses it's own sense of bliss, away from the wars around it. Even now in the age when so many sail, here is a refuge against the woes of life. We live with the world, not against it. We do not blast the stones away, or dig out the mountains, but live among them; So it has been, and so it will remain, and that is much of the beauty of this place.

But I would like to think that much of the peace and joy that is emanated is from the people within, not the valley itself. For the valley is our cradle, but we sing in it's arms and fill it's skies with music.

Many nights now have I helped to light the lanterns that bring aura to the dancers. Many nights have I danced with them, or sang for them.

Soldiers come from Eregion, and the border-guards come in again to the valley, and we take the war from their minds, setting it aside until the night has ended. For we heal not only the wounds of the body, but that of the mind and spirit. It has been this way for very long, and through the swaying tides of life I would like to think it shall remain so.

In this document, if it can even be called such a thing of formality, I intend to record both the things of tranquility and of frivolity that take place here. In the hopes that they will never be forgotten, through whatever life shall next bring.