Up a hill walks a man, long of limb and dark of hair. Wilting grass masks dark soil and small rocks for his shanks to go stumbling on, but his foot is sturdy. Gaining his goal, Aragorn stands and looks across rolling hills and flat grassland, woods and mountains: this is his land. South is Gondor, fair as any land, but northwards is his birth-land that his spirit longs for. High sky, cold springs and sharp snow that wash both mind and body in light. Stars glow with a bright light such as Aragorn has not known in any sky but this.
Down, his path is lain, but walking down, his spirit lifts up to join this sky and this wind.
...
A/N: This story was written for a challenge given at the forum "The Reviews Lounge, Too". The challenge was to write a story of 100 words or more in English without using the letter 'e'. The story had to make sense and not employ any shortenings or deliberate miss-spellings to avoid the letter.
Thanks to Linda Hoyland, The Death Frisbee and Verran for corrections. It's been fixed now.
Disclaimer: The world and the characters all belong to Tolkien and the Tolkien estate.