<Written on a small piece of parchment, left in an abandoned camp on the banks of the River Running>
Four years… four years since I last walked in Eriador.
Now finally it is over.
It seems an age we have fought here. Illomer and I, at the borders of the east. A merciless enemy, who assaulted these realms countless times. Many fell and many more scared by this war, but now, we can leave. Now we can venture home to the lands and friends we remember so vividly, in hope that they too have made it through.
Does war change oneself? Or does it simply make him wise to the world?
A.
