The Wilderland has fallen. I can feel it in the water. I can smell it, in the air. Much that once was, is lost. I am the last of the Istari, the wizards sent to aid Middle-Earth against the evils of the Dark Lord, Sauron, first lieutenant of banished Morgoth.

Alatar, was I called in the West, which is forgotten. Amongst the Noldor, I was Morinehtar. The Sindar call me Mordagnir. In the East, where I sojourned long, alone, I was Tamahan. I am the Blue Wizard, the Last Wizard. Mithrandir fell, in the darkness below Moria. Curunir fell to his own ambition and the lure of power. Radegast fell fighting the wraiths in the South of Mirkwood. Pallando, my best friend, died giving hope to the resistance in the utter East. It is his efforts that have kept the West from falling under the deluge of limitless numbers from the vast Eastern Lands . . . which instead, indeed, are free, and may well be key to turning the tide of darkness.

I hunt the things of darkness, and now, with those tasked to tend this region gone, and my own efforts in the East and South having born fruit, I have come bearing , perhaps, some little hope back to the beleaguered West.

See it performed here https://youtu.be/H1JEEJxyleo