A hurriedly scribbled letter, folded unevenly and rumpled. It is roughly tied with a blue ribbon and the writing is barely legible it is so shaky.
To Cardanith, residing in Imladris
Hir Cardanith,
It grieves me to have to write to you. You do not know me, but your friend Amathlan is very dear to me. I know not if this will reach you, nor if you care to hear my words, but I must speak to you.
I worry for Amathlan. His heart has been filled with anger and his mind with thoughts or destruction and ruin. I have tried to help his heart heal, but not even I can get through to him.
You are my only hope to save him from whatever reckless venture he plans on going on. I know you two have not spoken in an age, but he needs you. He needs a friend who understands him and his grief.
Please, I beg of you, help him.... for if he can not be helped I fear we will lose him as well.
Sincerely,
Ithilwe, formerly of Gondolin.
