Of Andróg and the coming of Túrin
Dear Diary, It is I, Andróg. Former man of Dor-lómin, and and I say former as I was hunted for the slaying of a woman of those lands. The men of Dor-lómin are too soft for my liking - we are no different than animals, and survival of the fittest is a concept in which I strongly believe. Now I am of the Guarwaith, the outlaws, the wolf-men, those who do not abide by the rules made by any other than nature. My appearance is befitting of my current lifestyle: an unkempt beard, long, tangled brown hair, and a manly frame bearing the tattered skin of beasts. And like my body, my heart is strong, and so is my resolve. Much has happened in recent days. A man wandering has joined our group; Neithan, he was called, and a strong impression he did make. In the face of our weaponry, he did not falter, only warned us of what was to come if he were to be challenged. Fifty men versus one traveller, yet I saw a fire in him that was undoubtedly fierce. One of our men who dared to let loose his ...
