[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

The Wargs appeared from their quarters to begin their discussions. They were eager to decide upon the path the Wargs should take, during and after the war. It was clear that the world was to be greatly changed. So to, though, was their traditional council. A trail of blood led from the centre of their hallowed stone circle to the easterly chambers.

At the end of the trail lay Eomer, torn to shreds on the ground. The walls of his room were decorated with scratches, for he had marked his final surroundings with the reflections of his panicked mind. They told of the prophecy he would recite repeatedly. Chilling prose, of which the Elders were familiar with. Some new scraps of information were among the bleak words, indications of special Wargs, with hidden powers: one to see the truth , and one to protect the innocent. But again the pairs, and again the pairs, who would come to bring murder…