You behold a sight truly unique; a gleaming gilded gondola, like a brilliant bird she soars through the air. Her immaculate white hull shines like platinum; a stunning spectacle beyond compare.

Steering this vessel is a mariner; one could call him a passenger, a messenger. Descending like a meteor, the ship brings down to earth this enigmatic voyager. The figure is a radiant one, with shining eyes and golden hair. A Silmaril sits above his brow, illuminating his face so fair.

Grasping the rope of the shroud, Eärendil leans on it, cupping to his mouth a hand. He calls out to you as Vingilot lands upon the sand. "Hey friend! I am headed on a journey to who knows where at the present. But travelling alone is a lonely venture, and having company would make my adventure a whole lot more pleasant. What sayeth thee? Wilt thou join me?"