The seagulls sing... The seagulls leave... Nocarth was sitting, as always, on the outskirts of his cave. The waves crashed hard against the rocks, but he didn't care. His albino skin and pale white hair made him almost glow like a star on the coast, his austere beauty even present despite the old rags he wore. He was searching, as he had done for centuries, for something... Some sign, from the west... Of the Valar...