I must say, I feel a good deal better after a few moons away from the Black Land. The wind's tunes are not as foul here anymore, and the ground below my feet has turned soft and loamy. No more stirring up ashes and dust with every step or sudden quakes deep within the earth, or the smell of sulfur and rust...
It has turned rather quiet, for I have arrived at the Dead Marshes; miles of stinking bog as far as the eye can see. Eerie the place is, but nothing I have not known before. I once travelled hither with a group of other adventurous dwarves and we barely made it out. But back then these lands were still traversed by foul things in service to the dark lord. In fact, some flying beast had well-nigh discovered our little band and would have surely brought a swift end to our adventuring days. Luckily we remained hidden to its gaze. Nothing I need fear now.
But even with the dark lord gone, these lands pertain their foul and ominous history. Many dead lay here with waking eyes, of which most are elves and men. I'm taking the swiftest way out of these marshes. They will lead me straight to the Brown Lands, where my road will lead me northward to the eaves of Mirkwood. There I'm hoping to find an old friend of the family - though I never truly took him for anything more than a strange elf.
