‘Can you hear it? Upon the Sea, can you not hear the song? ‘These are ancient lands, long since forgotten. Here lay the Whispers of the Past and the Hope of the Ancients. Not far from here many things of terrible reckoning were set once, and many of good here lost their places. Once there was a great river whose course has many changes to make yet, and once here lay the mountains of famous legends. A forest once grew that only that far off patch of trees remains. And there, that hill was once a great mountain. The gulf that separates the two was once a river that led to a lake, but both were merged and so it is now. ‘To our south lay the Mountains of Ash, but only five peaks still lift high towards the sky. Here where we stand are the nameless mountains that once bordered the lake that is the gulf, now known as the Mountains of Rune. This great plane that spreads before us has many times been a battle field, but now, behold! what is left? The Sea has moved as it always has, and has returned upon the lands many times. There it is, to the south of those mountains there and around south of us it is, a great gulf that is the western frontier. But see the river that crosses the land south of those trees? It goes on farther and curves east across the plan to the south, cutting a border along those mountains. There it splits and goes north and south until it reaches the borders of the world. That is the Great River, the Anduin, always it is the border of the West, and always it will be, for even now it still persists, though it’s ancient course has many times changed. Few may cross it, for only by mighty power is it settled enough for mortals to traverse. ‘Here is a hallowed place, the lands furthest west. The timeless Sea still churns, and the ancient forest of Lorien set there long upon an isle afore it was forever passed from the earth. There was of old a great land of Men, and the last of the Great Men, but it too is now gone before the Sea. Beyond those five peaks was a land of evil, Morder it was called, it too fled before the wrath of the Lord of the Sea. The Mirkwood has fallen, and the Iron Hills into the Gulf of Rhun. Ered Lithui, Dagorlad, Rhovanion, Rhun, Ered Mithrin, Mirkwood! These only remain still of the Ancient Lands. Never again shall we see those who were upon them, and my kindred… ‘Long have I sought this place…yet now, it is empty. There is no life here, only a desolate plane. But still, perhaps, lies the City of the West, the Havens of Mirkwood where once was a great city of Elves, Dwarves, and Men. It is there I must go…will you come with me?’