I am to be cast out of the White City. I must leave in a week, but I shall not leave while there is still breath in me. The armies of Mordor are marching upon Minas Tirith, and I shall not flee in the face of shadow like a coward- I shall stand and fight. My blood shall be spilled to help keep the city free. Only by death shall I be redeemed in the eyes of my lord Denethor for my crime. In his eyes, I have failed- I let the beacons be lit, and now I must pay.