Year : 97 : First Age 

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I used to look out at the sea with hope, dreaming of the places it could take me, the lands beyond, the adventures it could hold. Now I look at the wrath of the storm and the mountains of waves rising up from the deep to claim my vessel, my life, and I am not so optimistic.

I used to look west, over the mountains, to Tirion and the Two Trees. Since then that Light has grown cold, I look there no more.

I used to walk in the starlight, along the Bay of Eldamar with my father, but since the Kinslaying, the slaughter of my people by the hands of our kin... I walk there no more.  And neither does he. 

I watch the Eastern shore grow ever closer, the jagged rocks ready to spear my ship and take us under, but strangely enough I am not afraid.  Perhaps it is simply because I have come to grips with the fact that I am going to die today.