Finally decided, I wandered a few days on the docks of Dol Amroth in search of a boat that could bring me closer to Eriador. I ended up taking a place on a 300-ton brig-schooner, which is fifty meters in length, laden with meat, cloth, and around fifty crew members of the most abject scum. The sailors do not really frighten me to tell the truth, on the other hand, the Captain seems able to lynch a man for a bad look, he inspires no confidence. But to rally Evendim on time, I have no choice.
This trip was long, and boring. I had no opportunity to take out my sword, which would have allowed me to show my talents a little. I feel rusty. We made several stops along the coast we were following heading up north. Nothing to report, just beers and women every night. Didn't even drink a drop.
I thought it would be a difficult trip for my faithful sidekick, it was the first time he went on the water. The poor animal had to bear the miseries of an already painful trip to the bottom of the hold in the dark, I think he is in a hurry to taste the meadows of the Shire. I did not let any sailors come near it, and he managed to stay healthy during the crossing.
Suddenly, a scream makes me come out of my nap. After two exhausting weeks, I finally see the hanging houses of Celondim's elves that the crow just announced. In a few hours we will be on dry land.
