Rhun

From:  part IIII  ->https://laurelinarchives.org/node/58906

A short while before dawn, Tazamul, his servant, the cat, and most of their valuables made landfall on an empty strand of beach at the edge of Rhovanion. Their boat, so small that it hardly deserved that title, ground its keel into the sand a short way from shore, where the water was so shallow that a man might disembark from the boat and make his way to dry land without wetting any more than his boots.

As the third son of a minor Rhunish noble and with little else to do, Tazamul's latest plan for financial gain was to sponsor a company of brigands to raid trade routes between Dale, Dorwinion, and the Iron Hills. His plan lasted for at least 3 weeks (a record) before he was found out by his house. Although robbing their Western rival was not necessarily frowned upon by the Easterlings, it was still considered a crime in order to keep the peace, and so Tazamul would have to be exiled. 

Many years ago, in the distant land of Rhûn...

Sarnai walked quietly outside her parents' tent, her steps near silent despite the heavy riding boots she wore. She could hear voices, and what sounded very much like utterances of her name- and she hated it when people talked about her behind her back. While eavesdropping was one thing she was always told to refrain from, she had also been raised to talk about people in their presence. Stepping closer to the entry flap of the tent, Sarnai closed her eyes to sharpen her other senses, and listened.

Long ago, in the distant land known in the Sindarin tongue as Rhûn...

To the dear Duinn Drakenbane, son of Muninn, lord of Durin’s Folk,

  And to all who dwell in the shelter of his arm,

svo eg ríst og í rúnum fá'g

"So do I write and colour the runes"