Legolas stood at the door to the roof, futilely trying to open the lock. He tugged at it in frustration, then gave up, turning to look out the nearby window instead.

I am so lost here. There are bodies scattered across the place, unclean things hammer at the doors at times, and I cannot see an open sky from here, merely a glimpse from behind a glass wall, which yields a small star on occasion. All I feel is cold air, yet it is not the breath of Sulimo. I see trees here too, but Kementari surely has not had a hand in their creation for they are so dead and lifeless.

Curse that Dwarf! Caves! Of what use are Dwarven caves when they bring me to such a place? It is not even Arda anymore, I have gathered that much, and yet I foolishly ask people if they are from the lands of Middle Earth in desperate hope.

... Perhaps I shall look for an instrument of sorts. A song shall lift my heart 'ere I pine away for home.

Gilthoniel, A! Elbereth!
We still remember, we who dwell
In this far land beneath the trees
The starlight on the Western Seas