Diary- Exploring Agamaur

Leaning against a high wall built by Men in centuries past, Lômizimril considered her options. What was she thinking, walking up to the Red Pass and declaring herself as Mornalpheth of Dol Amroth, then declaring herself later on as Dovirien? Perhaps it was ambition that so emboldened her, or arrogance, even, but she did not let the latter thought remain for long. Garth Agarwen had virtually nothing to do with the weapon she was researching, only a whim, a personal interest she had followed so that she would not be wasting all of her precious time in Bree, watching one brawl after another unfold and drinking mediocre wine, all with the hope that an old friend would make another appearance. It had tested her composure to remain calm as the hill-men she had not expected to guard the pass appeared, and more to ride through Agamaur to the fortress itself, with no time to examine the ruins and discern their history. Her steed was far away, stabled somewhere she knew not, and the threats she faced upon entry were enough to dull the edge of her sharp tongue, a small sacrifice made to defend her pride, and her mount, in the long term. 
She ran a hand along the wall, tinged a reddish color in the light. These men, the Creoth, openly served Ivar the Blood-hand and the Red Maid! With an inward cringe, the woman suspected that she was protected due to the one hill-man's attitude toward her, as it seemed he was treated as a figure of authority. Remembering his name, Lômizimril turned to another page in her journal to record a few notes, the delicate script flowing across the page despite the easily-smeared charcoal with she used to write. 
Gorlakon- 
Man of the Creoth- shorter than I by about two hands, tattooed 
Seems to be authority figure to the hill-men. Perhaps a lord? 
Surprisingly intelligent- be more careful! 
Could have artifacts and documents! Get them without compromising dignity. 
Seems to have taken a liking to me, with a combination of poetic flattery and crude insinuations. 
Knows the name Dovirien, and hopefully only that. 

Lomizimril then added a quick sketch on the other half of the spread, for ease in remembering or describing the man. Turning the page back to where it was before, she continued writing about the curious style of architecture. If she could find those records, perhaps this trip would not be entirely aimless after all.