July 20, 3018, Dunland

I am now on the Great North-South Road. There are a few travelers, most going North, but they eye me suspiciously, and I speak little to them. I would ask if they know of Imladris, Rivendell in the common tongue, but I do not wish them to know of my errand. Perhaps I will find friendlier folk further north.

Boromir

July 18, 3018, west of the River Isen

I crossed the river Isen without incident, but last night as I slept, orcs stumbled into my camp. They were as surprised of me as I of them, but my sword is sharp and my reach long, and I slew two of them before the rest ran away. I moved along then, away from the stench of their offal, and did not stop until well after daybreak. I rested then, hidden and fitfully, and left again ere nightfall. I will not be caught asleep again so close to the mountains.

Boromir

July 13, 3018, Edoras, Rohan

I learned much from Theodred and his cousin Eomer last night. First, they are more like brothers than cousins, having grown up in the same household since the death of Eomer's father, Eomund, husband of the king's sister. They told me that emissaries from Mordor have been to Rohan seeking horses, but the Rohirrim did not like their look and refused to trade with them. They love their horses as much as their children and would not send them to homes where they would be ill-used. This angered the Easterners, and they left in disgrace, but ever since there have been raids on their herds in the East. "Always the black horses are taken, and we fear they are put to evil use," they said.

I told them of the dream, and they listened intently. I learned that among the legends of their people are memories of a small seldom-seen people, "holbytla" in their tongue, who possess no magic but are a quiet simple folk, walking soundlessly on bare feet, and disappearing at will. They believe this might be the Halfling mentioned in the words of the dream. Of Imladris they knew nothing, as their people lived on the eastern side of the Misty Mountains, but the puzzle pieces are falling together, as they say, and tomorrow I shall take my leave and head for the river Isen. They have given me a fresh steed, a fine gift, who knows all the paths and streams of the Westfold. They have warned me to be wary crossing the Isen, and to pass as unnoticed as possible through the lands of the wizard.

Postscript: Eomer has a younger sister, who seems to be as cold and hard as ice, and as beautiful as a diamond. At all times, she attends the King, and listens carefully to every word spoken. If these were not such troubled times, and I was not heir to the seat of the Steward, I might fancy her. Eomer and Theodred are doughty men of arms, and I don't doubt that she could hold her own as well. The Rohirrim do not coddle their women.

She might make a good match for Faramir. I shall mention it to him when I return from my journey. It would be good to strengthen the alliance between our people.

Boromir

July 12, 3018, Edoras, Rohan

I passed through the Eastfold of Rohan without incident. It has been some time since I traveled these lands, and the people are more suspicious of strangers than they used to be, but men of Gondor are still welcome here. I arrived in Edoras yesterday, and it looks somewhat shabbier than I remember it. Theoden, their king, is old, and his hall and his city have aged with him.

I took audience at once with the King of the Mark. There also were his son and heir Theodred, his brother's son Eomer, and other men of his household. I warned them of the threat to their lands near the Anduin and their duty to guard the Northern marches, and they made plans to remove their herdsmen who wander there. I also learned that there have been skirmishes with orcs out of the mountains and hillmen to the west. It seems that Rohan has much of its own trouble of late.

At long whiles they have been on friendly terms with the wizard Saruman in the tower of Orthanc to the west, but this news troubled me. I do not know what control he has over the Dunlendings, but orcs at least should fear a wizard. If they walk boldly through his lands, then perhaps they do so with his leave. I do not trust wizards.

There was also another I did not trust, the king's adviser Grima. Groveling and flattering he seemed, always saying what one wanted to hear, not what one needed. For that reason, and because the king himself is hoary with age, I am taking dinner tonight with Theodred and Eomer alone. Their people hailed from the North long ago, and I wish to discuss the matter of the dream with them when we are alone, perhaps after a few ales. They can share the words with their king when they feel it is appropriate, as they know his advisor better than I.

Boromir

July 3rd, 3018, Minas Tirith

Tomorrow I leave for the North to seek Imladris and the meaning of the dream. The road will be long, for northeast of the Great River lie the Brown Lands and northwest and impenetrable forest inhabited by a sorceress from which none have ever returned. My way lies to the west through Rohan, across the Isen and then up through the valleys west of the Misty Mountains.

No matter, I have need to take counsel with the Rohirrim. They should know of our troubles to the East and of their vulnerability in the East Emnet.

Boromir

July 1st, 3018, Minas Tirith

Faramir and I had audience with Father and told him of our dream. He did not dismiss it, but asked us many questions about the images in the dream, and oft had us repeat the words. He knew that Imladris was an Elvish word for a far northern dale where lives Elrond the Halfelven. Of Isildur's bane he knew little, saying only that he was shot by an orc arrow after an ambush in the Gladden Fields by the river Anduin to the north. Few survived the skirmish, save Isildur's son, who was too young for battle. From this son descended the kings of the north, "but the North Kingdom is no more, and the descendants of that line are a ragged people, wanderers bereft of lordship."

Faramir wanted to leave at once and seek for Imladris and further meaning of the dream, and Father would have let him go, believing it something suited for his uses, but for my protest. I saw it as a way of doubt and difficulty and of grave importance to Gondor. I desired to take this errand upon myself to seek the broken sword and Isildur's bane, and a Halfling too, if it would aid Gondor. The debate went back and forth, for Father was loth to see me go, but it pleased him to displease Faramir, and he finally stated that he had little use for Faramir, neither here nor there, and wished only for two Boromirs. I rebuked him for saying such a thing, and regretted that Faramir had to hear it, but such is the heart of our father, and we cannot change it. Seeing that I would not be dissuaded, Denethor gave me leave and appointed Faramir to serve in my stead. He has little confidence in Faramir, but I know that Faramir is a capable captain, and leaving him here in charge will give him a chance to show his quality.

I have decided to leave three days hence, on July the 4th. I need time to study the maps we have of Arnor and areas south, and there are several matters I must attend to with Faramir.

Boromir

June 29, 3018, West Osgiliath

I had Faramir's dream last night. It was just as he described, down to the last word. Very strange.

In other matters, we have sent forces as far north as Cair Andros to defend the shores of the Anduin. Above that is the impassable Entwash, and beyond that, the East Emnet of Rohan.

Postscript: I spoke with Faramir about the dream. That was when he told me that he had had the dream every night since the attack on Osgiliath. I am not one to put much stock in occult whisperings or children's tales, preferring to place my trust in sharp swords and stone fortresses, but these words portend more than just the skirmish of the 20th. They speak of the doom of Gondor. I do not know of what use a broken sword could be for Gondor, but if there is someone or something that can aid Gondor in her time of need, we should seek it. I do not doubt the strength and courage of our men, but there is a greater power to the East that I cannot name. I would not see all our long years of toil brought to nothing and our fair cities left in ruin.

Since Faramir and I cannot decipher the words of the dream, we have resolved to bring it to Father, who is wise in the lore of Gondor.

Boromir

June 21, 3018, West Osgiliath

Last night Osgiliath was attacked by a great force of Orcs, Easterlings, and Haradrim from Mordor. We were vastly outnumbered, but it was not the number of enemies that defeated us. There was a power there, like none I have felt. Some reported a great black horseman, others a dark shadow under the moon. Whatever it was, its presence filled both foe, friend, and beast with a madness, so that even the boldest man and horse gave way and fled.

I commanded the small remnant that held out the longest. Faramir would have stayed as long as I commanded him, for he looks up to me and would sooner die than to give in before me, but the Steward is old and I would not leave Gondor without a clear successor in these troubled times. When I deemed further defense of the city hopeless, I sounded the retreat. We destroyed the last bridge of Osgiliath behind us and swam across the river Anduin to the western shore. Only four of that unit survived, myself, my brother Faramir, and two others.

I am not heartened that my unease proved right, for we took many losses, the numbers of which I have not yet ascertained. Those that fled will face little penalty, for Faramir and I felt that same nameless dread. Instead we will regroup and forge a new strategy here on the western shores.

I think it was only the dread of facing Father and trying to explain why we ran and hid that held us firm. I wonder what competing fear kept those other two rooted to the spot? Perhaps they have wives sterner than Father.

Boromir

June 19, 3018, Osgiliath

Faramir had a strange dream last night. He said he saw the Eastern sky grow dark and there was a great thunder, but in the West, a pale light lingered. Out of the West he heard a faraway voice speaking clearly the following words, which he wrote down for me:

Seek for the Sword that was broken:
In Imladris it dwells;
There shall be counsels taken
Stronger than Morgul-spells.
There shall be shown a token
That Doom is near at hand.
For Isildur's Bane shall waken,
And the Halfling forth shall stand.

Normally, I would not attach much importance a dream of Faramir's, as he oft has nightmares, drowning in a great wave or some other such impossible nonsense, but I have an uneasy feeling about the land that lies to our East, a shadow growing upon my mind. Ever we keep them under watch, but I will double the guard tonight.

I do not know what the words in Faramir's dream mean, other than they seem to speak of our doom.

Boromir