I was born in Lindon in the early years of the present age, to parents who fled hence in Cirdan's train from the wreck of Beleriand.  Long are my years grown, and peaceful have they been, save on two occasions when we had need to marshal our waning strength. But that is now long ago.

Cirdan, fate, and the Valar willing, I will go before long into the utmost West to join those of my family who have gone before me.  Yet for a while longer I tarry on these hither shores with the last remnants of my kin, and we pass the latter days in memory of the stories of our forefathers and foremothers: the bittersweet, the frightful, the glad, the sublime tales that are, I think, all we may hope to leave behind when at last we depart forever.

Harken to our tales, ere we quit this land, at The Cottage of Lost Play, ((address and neighborhood TBD)), Falathlorn Homesteads. Here some gather still to celebrate, mourn, and ponder that which came before.