[YOU NOTICE A TATTERED PIECE OF PAPER ON THE GROUND THAT SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN RIPPED OUT OF A BOOK.]

July 15th, 510

Oh Idril, my lovely Idril, how I yearn for your embrace. But we can not be, not now. Foolish Turgon.
Your father thinks you were better off marrying Tuor, a man. He should know you deserved better. The
very idea of the union between an elf and a human is an abomination. You will not find the love you
seek from him. At least now I can take comfort in knowing that this will all soon be over. I will
have you, for that is what...He, promised me.

[MAEGLIN IS NOWHERE TO BE SEEN. THE LESSER MARKET NEARBY MIGHT BE A GOOD PLACE TO CHECK NEXT.]

