[littlemanpoet]

Tharonwe probed Raefindan's dream.

He was standing before a fortress. There were no windows, and no slots for archers toward the roof. There was a door directly in front of him. He walked up to it and passed inside.

It was not a fortress. The noise was deafening and he put his hands over his ears. There were many people standing by a dais that was as long as the chamber, which stretched the length of the edifice. Everything was flat and dead and noisy, and along the dais, strange things were moving, a little bit done to them by each successive person.

Tharonwe searched Raefindan's mind and could not find the names for the things linnked to what he saw; except for one phrase: automobile manufacturing. Such a strange speech. Not a bit of the phrase had a thing to do with Raefindan's own tongue, which meant that it was to his tongue as was Sindarin to the speech of the Numenoreans.

At any rate, it was not what Tharonwe was looking for. He probed the mind of the dreamer to see what else lay there, something he could use for his purpose.