3002 Third Age
"Retreat!" I shout. "Ambush!"
'Tis a relief to hear a horn convey the command rearwards. Some of my men may yet escape....
But they are too many.... "Fight! For the Mark!"
I think of my family, and grimace as I recall spinning fireside tales about the Grey Ghostriders. But only trusting children can rely on rescuers from legend....
The Orc-swarm closes in.
Ne'er will I see my fiery Éowyn grow, nor fearless Éomer become captain. Let his reputation not bear the brand of my rashness....
The blackened Orc-blade finds its mark at last.
Remember me, Théodwyn, my love!