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Ah me, what a sight is here...enough to curdle the flowing blood of the boldest sword in Eriador.
What say ye of one named Gil, lady Thinlomien? My own eyes see but one corpse, foully slaine as it seemeth to me, by false trickery.
Alas that such a morn should dawn. No longer shall I pluck at a lute and warble rondelays to lady loves with a carefree heart. My pale hand must seize a dire blade as we face whatever is to come.
We shall give no ground. We will never yield. Be they ever so filled with guile and wisdom, we shall prevail. On this, my slender sword, unused to battle worse than boar-hunts, I do swear it.
For the spirit of goodly chivalry will always conquer. Thus hath the gods ordained it.
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Among the friendly dead, being bad at games did not seem to matter
-Il Lupo Fenriso
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