I welcome you to Dorwinion.
In your tongue, #, this country is called the Land of the Young.
Our kin in the West think we are lesser, because we have not seen the light of the Two Trees. But I say, these lands are beauty enough for me.
Here on the shores of the Rhúnaer, we Dorwidhrim brew the finest wines in all Middle-earth!
I shall travel soon to my kin in the Woodland Realm. It has been long indeed since last we met.
Welcome to Dorwinion, #, the easternmost Elf-country on earth... save one.
King Bladorthin ruled here of old.
The arrogance of our Eldarin brothers and sisters has led their realms into decay. But Dorwinion by the shores shall endure forever.
The Men of Númenor once claimed ownership of these lands, not so long ago. But I knew that would not endure. Men are weak... and too easily corrupted.
We Elves have always loved the sea, and the shores of this land bear a likeness to Cuiviénen from the old tales.
It is rare that one of our people should flee into the West, #. We are not Eldar here.
I must get back to the brewery soon.
Wine! Wine, #. It dulls all ills and soothes all sorrows.
The Men of Dorwinion are more noble than most. But Men they are still, nonetheless.
Go not into Rhúdel, #. There are false tales of Elves in that land, and many confused Men.
The Enemy has spread false tales of Elves among the Men of Rhúdel. Believe no word of it, #.
Sometimes I fear that the folly of Men shall bring doom upon us all.