'And that is the end of the tale, Player. Although I did not see him fall, Faeldor was lost. My brother held the gates of Caras Gelebren against the Enemy for as long as he could... and I wish I could tell him how proud I was of him in that moment. But there is never time, is there? Even for the Eldar...
'Although the war continued on for years, I and the other survivors of my kin found refuge at Imladris. In time, what we were faded away, and it was as if the Mírdain were not to be named as such among the Elves—that the stain of the Enemy could not be scoured from our hands.'
Tarandir shakes his head.
'Might I ask something of you?
'Travel up into the city, stand before the ruins of the House of the Mírdain, and listen. That is all I ask.'1/1
3 ObjectiveWTF1/1
4 Speak toTarandir (Show dialog)
'You heard nothing, yes?
'That is a great sorrow, and one made no less painful with the passage of time. Once you would have heard the songs of anvils and chisels, and those of laughter and friendship, but no more. All that remains of Caras Gelebren... of Tham Mírdain... of old Mirobel are ruins and dreadful memories.
'When I soon depart this realm, will I be healed of these wounds? I cannot say for certain, but I fear the answer—for neither seems befitting, either as gift or punishment.'
Tarandir pauses. His gaze falls upon the ruins of the lower city of Caras Gelebren. After a long moment, he turns to you.
'I thank you for hearing my tale, Player. It has done my spirit well to tell it one last time in Middle-earth.
'Oh, but one more thing... a word of warning, if you would hear it. The Enemy's hand, though maimed, may still seek to shape the days to come in Middle-earth.
'Be watchful of the evils in this world, my friend.'1/1
