When I was young, I lived amongst the people of Nemed (Ed: Eldon?), the sons of Agnoman. But they were the first to leave when the troubles came. The sea-giants came and the Nemed left us. When I was in my middle age I lived with the Parthol (Ed: Dorwood), the sons of Sera. But when the Ogli (Ed: Eastern Orcs?) said 'You are sheperds and know nothing of canals or irrigation,' the Parthol left too. When I was an old, old man I lived with the Senion (Ed: Eikwood?), sons of Stariath, but they left when the wilds ceased to bear fruit.

Then I too left and crossed the Waste and I saw a people that might be my kin. But they were an angry people who had been held by Abuz (Ed: The author seems to use the term Abuz to refer to generic Dragons in general. Perhaps a confusion or conflation with the draconic empire of Abuz?), so I approached them not.

Then at last I found the edge of that barren desert where foul men pray to the darkness. I hid my shape and moved on.

The Nemed I met, and the Parthol, and the Senion too, but each had shattered to make many many peoples. So I stopped to rest at the place where the sons of Mile built their pillar, and here I stay. Here I stay.