What comforts me is that what we did back then succeeded and we stopped those Angmarims and their forces. I don’t know what happened after that though and if the others are alive. All I know is that I am captured, again! In this foul land with all these wretched folk and I am here to fight for my life and their entertainment. At least we succeeded, at least we did… But how long has it been since I was captured? Months… Could it be years?
But where are they now? Are they well? Did I bring death upon them? Yorva, Arthasdir, Sigfread, Mathildah, Aeirillen, Eredian. Pren, Rothrian… Oh Rothrian, I’m glad you left for Rohan, that means that maybe you’re safe now. That is the only comforting thought that I have. Will I be lucky to escape again? Time will tell.
At least I can write these things here in this piece of parchment in my cell, someone else did and hid it here. He was a fighter too but it seems that he died, or could have he escaped? Like I did… With Pren. It was glorious, I shall escape once again.
Time to get some rest, tomorrow I have to fight again, with two others, newcomers, meat for their fun, bastards! All of them. But we stopped them… Yes we did!
I shall kill them all tomorrow! I will teach them a lesson they won’t soon forget, I will challenge that tribe’s leader… They are of the race of man but they aligned with evil.
I killed him… The whole pit was filled with his family’s lamentations, songs of hatred and death and sadness filled the night. I gave them pain! I threw his head at his wife and children, their cries echoed far! They will come for revenge soon, they can have it… But I will fight till I die!
Oh what a feeling it is to hear the lamentations of your enemy’s loved ones…
The rest seem to have been written weeks, maybe even months after the above. They are written with a charcoal on a fragment of parchment.
I won again, I can’t remember for how long I have been doing this, fighting orcs and Angmarims, sometimes they throw in those pale things to fight me, they seem like children but they’re deadly. I’ve been doing this for as long as I can remember myself, since I woke up in this cold cell with nothing but a soup and some stale bread.
I will kill them all! They call me Morthwyl for some reason, maybe it’s my looks, and I look like a Dwarf rather than a man. What could my name be? I haven’t heard it, no one calls me by my name, and do I have one? Who am I? Why am I writing this? Maybe because someone has written something in this fragment before.
Maybe I want to be someone, maybe I want to leave something behind, so far I have left only death, death to stay alive and entertain some bastards in a land that I don’t even know… The only thing I have on me is a ring, I don’t know where I got it or what it means… Maybe I should find out… Maybe I-
The rest is just a straight line that doesn’t stop until it gets out of the parchment, apparently he’s fallen asleep or the parchment was pulled violently away.
