My lord Elrond.
I come on behalf of one whom I love.
Arwen is dying.
She will not long survive the evil
that now spreads from Mordor.
The light of the Evenstar is failing.
As Sauron's power grows,
her strength wanes.
Arwen's life is now tied
to the fate of the Ring.
The Shadow is upon us, Aragorn.
The end has come.
It will not be our end, but his.
You ride to war, but not to victory.
Sauron's armies march on Minas Tirith,
this you know.
But in secret he sends another force
which will attack from the river.
A fleet of Corsair ships sails
from the south.
They'll be in the city in two days.
You're outnumbered, Aragorn.
You need more men.
There are none.
There are those who dwell
in the mountain.
Murderers...
...traitors.
You would call upon them to fight?
They believe in nothing.
They answer to no one.
They will answer
to the king of Gondor.
Andúril, the Flame of the West,
forged from the shards of Narsil.
Sauron will not have forgotten
the Sword of Elendil.
The blade that was broken
shall return to Minas Tirith.
The man who can wield
the power of this sword...
...can summon to him an army more
deadly than any that walks this earth.
Put aside the Ranger.
Become who you were born to be.
Take the Dimholt road.