The Dominion of Man

Book One
“The Estari of Mordor" by John Evans
Preface

In the beginning my conception was to some how produce an entertaining sequel to the works of JRR Tolkien utilizing all the available material available
to me as a visually impaired reader with out dramatically deviating from the legendary histories of Arda if it could be done. In the end I produced a work
of literature witch in itself has at the least given readers like you interested in the lands of Middle Earth a new chance to continue following along
with the countless struggles of those peoples left in Arda after the last grate battle of the Third Age with Sauron. No elves appear in this book but dwarves
are mentioned and so are hobbits and primarily men as well as Orcs, trolls, giants, and wizards. At first glance my work might seem presumptuous considering
the published writings of professor Tolkien where attended to by the author with excruciating detail witch I can not rival in my own writing. By the end
of the completion of this history certain elements of my plot did not fit in with this grander back drop witch the famous Tolkien laid before my sequel.
These unintentional mistakes are rather small and might not even be spotted by the fans of the Peter Jackson trilogy but to hard core ringers like myself
who have not only read the basic well known books as well as the more obscure ones these deviations might seem more evident. My only excuse is that I have
tried my utmost to hold to the world of JRR Tolkien and have produced a story witch is pretty much and accurate sequel save fore a few points witch are
a consequence of not actually being the dead author himself who might have made corrections to his earlier work has he often did to fit his extensions
to his secondary world as he wrote them. Did he attempt a sequel to the lord of the rings after writing any other revised copies to his other works like
the Silmarillion? Tolkien did began another book called "A New Shadow" but abandoned it and I do not follow the plot he originally began but have created
a story line completely my own but still drawing upon the writings of the legendary author. I recognize that there are elements in my story that stretch
back even to the Elder Days before the events of the war of the ring in the third age. Since the Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit are known to many but
perhaps not as read so often as when the Peter Jackson Films where released I have resolved not only to summarize the legends of the First Age but also
the second and third ages as well in the following introduction. I realize that this is an ambitious task and much of the detail that Tolkien would have
placed in such an introduction will probably be missing but my goal is only to give those of you unfamiliar to any of Tolkien's works a chance to understand
my writing to a grater degree as well as to allow fans who have not read these books in a while to recall the events of the distant past and recent future
at the time in witch my own tale is set. My earnest hope is that if you enjoy this sequel you might be eager to either look up more of JRR Tolkien's less
known writings or continue to read any other book concerning the fourth age I might produce if I find that readers are truly interested in what
I am doing. If there is not enough detail in my introduction to satisfy your hunger fore more knowledge of Middle Earth please feel free to check out
my blog page thewordoftolkienddblogspotddcom in witch I cover most of what I'm about to summarize using far more quotes and source material witch might be
fascinating fore some of you to delve deeper in to upon completing this history.

Introduction
Middle Earth or Arda as it is called by the elves has an extensive history sketched out by Tolkien in three ages each containing monumental struggles
between good and evil light and dark normally associated with your ordinary fantasy novel. But Tolkien's world is far more complex and more realistic then
the fantastic realms published before or since do to its extraordinary since of depth that comes from a complete back history as outlined in The Silmarillion
witch gives readers an overview of all three ages but mainly focuses on the Elder Days or first age. In that time the creator Iluvitar with the aid of
angelic beings known as the Inur help govern the world and the peoples who dwell there in. When the earth is made some of the Inur descend in to it and
become known as the Valar who dwell in the blessed realm of Valenor watching the children of Iluvitar vigilantly but not intervening in there lives unless
it is to assist them if caught in some dire plight witch few among the children can whether. Who are these children of Iluvitar? Well Iluvitar the creator
made Elves and men first but later adopted dwarves as his children as well after one of the Valar grew impatient and desired to make beings of his own
to teach. Elves first came in to the world and some remained in Middle Earth and became the Moriquendi the dark elves but not actually evil in origin and
still enemies of Goblins while other elves left to live with the Valar in Valenor and became known as the Eldar and yet still others of the first born
of Arda became lost along the road to the blessed realm and dwelt in the earth fore long years before the sun or moon was set to rise amid the skies. Later
a faction among the Eldar known as the Noldor under the guidance of Feanor most cunning and proud of all the Elven folk convinced many of the Eldar to
return to Middle earth to fight against a sworn enemy. However in doing so these elves rebelled against the Valar and where cursed by Mandos the doomsman
of the Valar or one of his servants. Feanor wished to return to Arda because of several reasons chief among witch was to recover three brilliant glowing
jewels called the Silmarils. The Silmarils where made by Feanor to contain the light of two wondrous trees witch provided Valenor its light before the
sun or moon where created. It is said no elf, man, or dwarf knew of what substance they where made of and the truth will only be revealed at the end of
days. It is said that one of the Valar turned to evil long before the creation of the Silmarils and was only released from imprisonment by the Valar at
the time of Feanor's height of wisdom and craftsmanship. That Valar was Mellkor but Feanor would later name him Morgoth the black enemy of the world. Set
free fooling the Valar that he had repented of all his evil deeds Mellkor set lies among the elves and with the aid of Ungaliant the spider he destroyed
the two trees later replaced by the sun and moon, slew Feanor's father, and stole the Silmarils. In Arda Morgoth rebuilt one of his old strongholds and
it was known as Angband the hells of iron and there the dark lord found his servants spirits of shadow and flame known as Balrogs and goblins also known
as Orcs witch he himself breed from elves and he also found one of his most faithful supporters as well a lesser Inur very powerful and now almost as corrupted
as the dark lord himself. That Miar spirit was Sauron and threw out the wars that where to follow it would be Sauron who would act as one of Morgoth's
chief instruments towards crushing the elves and elf friends fore all time a goal witch later the lord of Mordor would adopt after his master was captured
by the Valar once again. Another reason why Feanor wanted to leave Valenor was to avenge his father's death and slay Mellkor in open war. He also wished
to become a mighty lord holding huge tracks of wide land as a king and so to wished many of the other princes and folk of the Eldar. One of the Noldor
who wished power as well but hated Feanor was the lady Galadriel most mighty among all the elf women to leave fore Arda against all the odds that the enemy
could muster. When the war began and the elves of the light of Valenor reached Arda Feanor was soon slain in battle with Balrogs but his sons took up there
father's cause fore they like there father had sworn an oath to never rest until they had recaptured the Silmarils or fall in to darkness. In that futile
war they received aid from dwarves, other elves, and men. These men who came out of the east where known as the Edain and they where divided in to three
houses the house of Hador, the house of Beor, and the house of Hallith. From the Edain sprung great heroes of old such as Berrin, Hurin, Turin, and Tuor
and some of these heroes intermarried with the elves and from these unions has sprung the half elven who are allowed to choose whether they want to be
elves or men but if they choose the life of men they must endure the gift of Iluvitar or the doom of men as it is also called witch is death. In after
days the children of the half elven of man kind resented that they didn't have immortality the life of the Eldar and became ensnared in the councils of
Sauron but some of the mortals of the bloodline of the half elven became mighty warriors or champions of there people against the shadow. After years of
fighting it was clear to the Eldar and there allies that Feanor's war was hopeless. The power of Angband could not be overthrown by the hands of elves,
men, or dwarves but only by the indomitable strength of the Valar. It was the half elf lord Earendil who sailed with one of the recaptured Silmarils and
came to the Valar asking fore there pardon and assistance fore all the children of Iluvitar against the shadow of the north. Manwe king of the Valar appointed
by Iluvitar granted Earendil's prayer and in the war of Wrath at the close of the first age Angband was destroyed and Morgoth cast in to the outer void
from whence no one can return to Arda against the will of the Valar where he once walked alone. Two Silmarils where stolen by Feanor's sons and the holy
jewels burned there hands fore there right to there father's craftsmanship had died with there father and there own evil deeds against there own people.
One silmaril was cast in to the sea and another lost in the fire of the earth. The silmaril of Earendil was given to the half elf to where on his forehead
on a circlet as a lamp as he sails the heavens as a shining star on his enchanted ship while keeping an eye on Mellkor. In the destruction of Angband the
shape of the world was changed. Much of the lands where the Eldar fought where covered by the sea leaving few remnants of the age that was. During the
second age of Middle Earth many elves departed to go back to Valenor to dwell there fore ever fore the first born are immortal and do not die from this
world but some of the elves remained of the Eldar such as the wise son of Earendil Elrond who chose an elven life and Cerdan of the grey havens. There
are many conflicting notes regarding why Galadriel stayed but according to one of them published in Unfinished tales suggests that she was still obsessed
with becoming a mistress of her own realm and so was banned from returning to Valenor. Elros brother of Elrond chose the life of mortals and became king
of the island people of Numenor who's inhabitance where the Edain the men who fought with the elves against Morgoth and fore there courage where permitted
to live on the island of Numenor in sight of the blessed realm. But over time the new dark lord Sauron grew to grate power again and was forced to meet
Numenorian forces outside his dark tower of Barad Dur in Mordor where he pretended to be overcome and allowed himself to be captured. In Numenor as he
had planned the dark lord convinced the king to worship Morgoth and to assail the undying lands fooling the king in to believing that eternal life could
be his if he would possess the land of the Valar. Many of the kings' men went with him to the blessed realm and angered the creator Iluvitar so much that
Iluvitar destroyed Numenor allowing the island to sink beneath the waves and also changing the shape of the world removing Valenor from the circles of
the world. But those faithful to the Valar under the leadership of Elendil the tall and his two sons Isildur and Anarian left Numenor before it fell and
set up the kingdoms in exile Arnor in the north and Gondor in the south and they supported the elves in there war against Sauron fore the dark lord escaped
the drowning of the island but lost that form in witch he walked to fool the eyes of men and elves appearing fare. Now he was hideous to behold and the
eye of Sauron few among the children of Iluvitar could endure with out grate suffering or pain unfathomable. The dark lord of Barad Dur also had one major
supper weapon that was his greatest strength and yet at the same time his greatest weakness. Long before in the early years of the second age he had forged
the one ring in the fires of Orodruin the on place where it could be unmade if cast back in to the cracks of doom. Sauron made this ring to rule all the
other rings of power made by the elves of Eregion to help gain more knowledge, power, and the ability to preserve lands they loved from the ravages of
time. Now all these rings where subject to the one ring and they could last only as long as it too could last. With the one ring the dark lord was more
powerful on earth then any other being alive save fore the Valar and Iluvitar who watched him from a distance and perhaps Tom Bombadil who does not come
in to this summery. Yet . if some lord where to capture the ring and could bend its evil power to his will then Sauron would be overthrown and yet another
dark lord would appear in his place fore the one ring corrupted any who possessed it over time. Also much of Sauron's native power went in to that one
ring and his power would be destroyed if it to was destroyed but that could only be achieved if the ring was unmade in the fires of Orodruin of mount Doom
in his own country of Mordor. To challenge the shadow Elendil and high king of the Noldor Gilgalid forged the last alliance and marched on Mordor from
Rivendel home of Elrond with grate press of men and elves and a few dwarves as well. After defeating the hosts of the dark lord at Degorlad they besieged
the dark tower fore seven years and in that time Anarian was slain. At last one day the armies of the alliance made there way deep in to the ranks of the
enemy to the slopes of Orodruin where they met Sauron who had come from his fortress to slay Gilgalid and Elendil. Both lords fell but Isildur took up
the shards of his father's sword Narcil and dealt the enemy his death blow taking the one ring fore himself against the councils of Cerdan and Elrond who
had taken part in the battle as well. Thus began the Third Age in witch the first born finally departed and the earth was ready fore the dominion of men.
But before the elves departed at the end of that age they prospered fore a while wile the spirit of Sauron slept fore while the ring lasted so to did the
dark lord remain in Arda. Soon after the battle as the Eldar account it at the gladden fields Isildur was slain by orcs and the ring was lost in the river
Anduin fore thousands of years in witch time the north kingdom of Arnor was declining and eventually over a number of desperate battles with servants of
Sauron who was rising again fell. Just before the line of kings failed in Gondor, a quiet folk living by the grate river known as Halflings or hobbits
dwelt in comfort and in peace. One day the ring was found by a hobbit named Degul but his companion and kinsman Sméagol coveted the ring and murdered
Degul. Sméagol used the ring fore evil uses and became so hated by his relatives he was disowned by his family and dwelt in the Misty Mountains. The ring
drove him mad and turned him in to a vial, Treacherous, but miserable creature who is more commonly known as Gollum because of the horrible sound he made
in his throat when ever he talked to himself. While Sméagol rotted away in the mountains the last king died with no heir so the care takers of the throne
known as stewards ruled the south kingdom one after another by blood succession from father to son swearing to keep the realm protected from her enemies
until the king should return but it was long since the king was actually believed to return. It had been rumored that in the north the descendents of Elendil
still roamed who's blood line was unbroken but the stewards hardened there hearts against such hopeful signs knowing that if any argument a rose among
the lords of Minas Tirith then Gondor would be torn apart by civil war. Shadows of old fears came creeping back in to the north and whisperers grew of
a dark sorcerer in the fastnesses of Dol Guldor located with in Mirkwood Forest. Little did the wise know that this sorcerer the Necromancer was actually
Sauron taking shape once again in physical form wit in a knew stronghold guarded by all kinds of loathsome folk like Orcs. To combat this shadow the Valar
sent lesser Inur spirits Miar clothed in the bodies of old men to guide the free peoples of middle earth against Sauron. Five of them there were. The two
mightiest among them where Curunir and Mithrandir but they are more commonly known as Saruman and Gandalf. Two of these wizards went eastward and one by
the name of Radagast dwelt in the forests aiding birds and beasts but forgetting his mission to support the children of Iluvitar. Saruman dwelt in the
ring of Isengard in the lands of Rohan and in the tower of Orthanc situated there as a threat against invasion fore it was built by the Numonorians in
exile but now was given to Curunir by the steward at that time believing as did all that Saruman was an ally. Later it was revealed that he had turned
to evil and wished to become a tyrant dark lord in his own right but when he turned to shadow and corruption not even the wisest can now say. He envied
Sauron not as an enemy of the free peoples of Arda but as a rival and soon he made Isengard a place of dread and a home of vial beasts such as the orcs
known as the Uruci and other servants among men who despised Gondor and the realm of Rohan. Gandalf's name in elvish as is already told is Mithrandir witch
means grey pilgrim. This name is very suitable fore this particular Estari or wizard as we have now turned away from the elvish speech because Gandalf
traveled frequently threw out the third age and held no lasting abode any were in Tolkien's world. He traveled to help the dwarves flush out an evil
dragon Smaug the Golden with the help of Bilbo the hobbit, fought Orcs in Rohan during the War of the Ring, and made several trips to the shire leading
up to the formation of the actual fellowship of the ring. All his dealings where solely to aid the free peoples of Arda from the might of Mordor and to
assist them against the shadow as was his and all his fellow Estari's main task in Arda.. Of all the children of Iluvitar though he mainly dwelt with the
elves and was often seen conversing with Elrond and the other high elves like Galadriel who now lived with her husband Celiborn in Loth Lorian. It was
Gandalf who urged the wise elf lords to strike against the stronghold of Dol Guldor and because of this action Sauron fled the forest of Mirkwood and the
lands had peace fore many long years until the ring was found to be in the possession of a hobbit with the name of Baggins. On a journey with the dwarves
Bilbo Baggins stumbled in to the heart of the misty mountains and found the one ring where it had slipped off Gollum's finger. After having a riddling
contest with Gollum, the Halfling escaped the mountains and survived his adventure with the dwarves to return home rich. The ring gave Bilbo an extraordinarily
long life span and he showed no signs of ageing but the corrupting power of the ring was taking hold. Meanwhile Gollum had left his cavernous home to find
the ring and was captured by servants of the enemy in Mordor and brought back to the dark tower of Barad Dur now rebuilt. While he was being tortured
Sméagol revealed to Sauron that he had lost a ring to a hobbit by the name of Baggins and in response the dark lord sent the ring wraiths the Nazgul to
go and recover his lost ring. If Sauron recaptured the one again then all of Middle Earth would be his and the wise could not resist him any longer. The
Nazgul where the nine men who excepted the nine rings that Sauron helped forge in Eregion with the elves. These rings betrayed there owners until they
passed one by one in to the twilight under the eye of the dark power that rules the rings. They wore dark robes when dealing with men, elves, and dwarves
and they cried with terrible voices that struck fear in to the hearts of any mortal who heard them scream. Often the Nazgul road on black steeds but soon
as will be told the dark lord would prepare even more terrible creatures fore his chief servants to ride upon. The lord of the nine black horseman of Minas
Morgul was the Witch King who had once dwelt in Angmar. Gandalf learned that the ring of Bilbo was dangerous and persuaded the aging hobbit to give it
to his kinsman Frodo before he left to go to Rivendel. When Bilbo had left for some time Frodo learned from Gandalf that the ring might not be simply a
magic golden band but perhaps some thing far more perilous. After researching in the library of Minas Tirith the wizard came to the house of Frodo Bag
End and told his hobbit friend that the ring he now possessed was Sauron's and that the enemy was now searching for him or would be soon far all Mithrandir
knew. Frodo fled with his friends Marry, Pippin, and Samwise to Rivendel with the help of Aragorn descended from Elendil himself heir to the north and
south kingdoms while Gandalf left the Shire only to be captured by Saruman thus learning that the wizard of Orthanc was a traitor and then escaped to meet
up with the ring barer in the house of Elrond. Frodo was wounded by an evil knife of the Nazgul and spent days recovering in Rivendel where he met Bilbo
and the wizard Mithrandir Gandalf once again. At the council of Rivendel it was decided that the one ring had to be unmade in the fires of Orodruin where
it was made in the land of the enemy himself. With Frodo went his hobbit companions Sam, Marry, and Pippin but also an elf named Legolas, a dwarf named
Gimli, Aragorn heir of the kingdoms of Elendil, a man named Boromir, and last but not least Gandalf. They where collectively known as the Fellowship of
the ring and these nine walkers where set against the nine riders witch were evil. The wraiths had lost there horses and returned to Mordor shamed to
find there master's wrath. Over time they received winged bird like steeds that flew the skies like dragons but where more a kin to the eagles despite
the fact that they bore no feathers and were enormous. The company of the ring passed threw the mines of Moria where Gandalf fell locked in combat with
a Balrog of Morgoth and made there way to Loth Lorian where the ring barer and his friends where aided by the lady Galadriel. After leaving Lorian Boromir
of Gondor attempted to claim the ring fore his own but failed in his attempt. Frodo resolved to leave his friends behind not desiring to bring to Mordor
where almost certain death awaited them. Just as he was making ready to depart he was stopped by Sam who wanted to leave as well realizing his master's
mind. Together they passed threw many perils until they met Gollum who brought them to the borders of the black land where he betrayed them to an child
of Ungaliant the spider Shelob. Frodo was wounded and appeared dead but was only drugged by the poison of the spider's stinger. Sam saw his master being
captured by orcs and learned from them that the ring barer was not dead. After saving Frodo from the goblins Sam and Frodo traveled in to the black land
in to Mordor. Meanwhile the remaining members of the Fellowship fought Sauron in what ever way they could. Marry and Pippin where captured by Orcs of Saruman
but escaped torture and death to be harbored by Tree Beard an enormous tree herder a Shepard of the forest who insured that trees where not mishandled
by the children of Iluvitar. The hobbits would go with Tree Beard to a grate council of tree herders or ents where it was decided that Saruman must be
flushed out. Saruman had cut down many trees and was now sending his armies to engage the riders of Rohan at helms deep. Eventually Isengard was destroyed
and Saruman locked in his tower of Orthanc. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli hunted the orcs that had captured Marry and Pippin until they met an old friend.
Gandalf had returned from the dead as Gandalf the White to help the friends of Frodo against Sauron. Together they went to the capital of Rohan called
Edoras and lifted a spell that Saruman had set upon the king of the horseman of the mark Théoden. With the assistance of the horseman of the Mark of Rohan
the armies of Isengard where destroyed. Gandalf and his friends came to Orthanc were Saruman was cast from the order of wizards. Shortly after this was
done Pippin found a stone that resembled a crystal ball known as a Palantir and looking in it afterwards was revealed to the enemy. Disaster was obverted
because Sauron thought that Pippin was the ring barer and later when Aragorn revealed himself in the stone the dark lord then believed that the warrior
heir of Elendil had taken the ring from the hobbit. After much fighting in Rohan Théoden lay dead and so to did the lord of the Nazgul and the steward
of Gondor. The steward of Minas Tirith Denathor had discovered that a king was returning to the south and not wishing to serve another and also being corrupted
by Sauron slew himself. As he died he clutched the Palantir he had found in the white city and ever afterwards if any one looked in that stone all they
saw were two hands withering in flames fore the steward had burnt himself on a pyre to death. Now Faramir was steward of the white city but he was very
ill from the sickness of the Nazgul and did not recover until the captains had already left for battle again. Faramir was brother of Boromir but unlike
him in mood and mind. He did not wish for glory and secret power that the ring could offer but peace fore himself and his people. He had met Frodo and
Sam and learned what they were carrying but refused to take the ruling ring and allowed them to pass in to the black land unhindered. Gandalf persuaded
the captains to march on Mordor to overt the attention of Sauron from two hobbits carrying his ring ever closer to the crack of doom. By challenging
the dark lord in this way Gandalf hoped that Sauron would believe that Aragorn was the new ring barer and that he was seeking to overthrow the black hand
and claim kingship over all of Middle Earth as another tyrant. It was a desperate diversion but in the end it paid off. While the forces of Aragorn fought
Sauron's Frodo reached the fiery core of Barad Dur. Yet when the ring barer was going to destroy the ruling ring he at last gave in to its temptation and
claimed it fore his own and thus was revealed to the eye of the dark lord. But before the might of Sauron could recapture the ring Gollum who had been
following the hobbits leapt up out of the shadows and bit off Frodo's finger. While the vial creature danced about with joy on the edge of the precipice
he stepped too far and then plummeted in to the fiery chasm below destroying the ring. Sauron was diminished and could not rise once more and all his
towers and walls fell as mount doom erupted in sudden flame. The lord of the Eagles rescued Frodo and Sam and brought them to the camp of the lords of
the west on the field of Cormallin were they met all there friends again. Aragorn was crowned king of both Gondor and Arnor by Gandalf and the white tree
of the kings was replanted in the court of the white city. Minas Tirith city of Guard was now Minas Anor city of the setting sun once again. However when
the hobbits Marry, Pippin, Frodo, and Sam reached Orthanc Saruman had been let go by the ents believing that the wizard had learned his lessen and could
do no harm and when they reached the Shire they discovered that Saruman had turned it in to an industrial nightmare filled with cruel men who looked like
orcs and hobbits forced to give up much of the crops they grew. Frodo's friends raised a rebellion and Saruman and many of his men where slain. It appears
that the evil' wizard's servant Gremer who had been mistreated and abused rose up against his master and slew Curunir. Soon the shire was restored to its
former splendor and Sam married Rose Cotton and had his first child Eleanor but Frodo was still touched by the memory of old wounds and sorrow. It is said
that the third age ended when the ship baring Elrond, Galadriel, Gandalf, Bilbo, and Frodo passed in to the west to the undying lands where the ring bearers
spent out the rest of there mortal days in bliss and the elves still live happily waiting the end of days. Yet I believe that not all the remnants of the
shadow were laid bare. Aragorn had to unify a land north of Gondor long divided and inhabited by evil folk of the old shadow of Dol Guldor. Trolls, Orcs,
Giants, and other servants of the dark lord of Mordor still dwelt north of the black land and although there were undeniably far less of them they still
lived fore quite some time. The fate of the two blue wizards was unknown and it is possible that they might have turned to evil and might have posed another
threat to the free peoples of Arda. The sword Narcil had been reforged before the fellowship set out from Rivendel and Aragorn called it Anduril. Would
that ancient blade be forced to meet the weapons of cruel foes enemies of the king? The way Tolkien ends the last volume in the lord of the rings The Return
of the King leaves these possibilities open allowing a fertile field of story telling to suddenly appear. I have only used the facts and the actual source
documents of the legendary author and have produced from them a storyline that matches the world that Tolkien already established closely. All of the names
of places and characters in this book are from Tolkien and can be found in the encyclopedia of Arda on line as well as all the locations I mention. I hope
that my summery of the history of middle earth as previously published is enough for fans new to Tolkien's works to use as a good starting point from witch
to embark reading my own story. Threw out the narrative of this book there still references to persons and characters who's histories do not appear in
this summery. For this reason I would highly suggest readers to at least try and go threw all the Lord of the Rings at the very least if you are a fan
completely unfamiliar with the world of Middle earth and have not seen the movies. But if you are a huge fan of the peter Jackson trilogy and have finished
this introduction learning a lot about the prehistory leading up to the war of the ring but still haven't read the books then perhaps this summery has
been enough to allow you to have the prier knowledge to continue to read my work with out confusion. I earnestly hope that what I have written will not
disappoint the expectations of other ringers and is worthy of being excepted as a genuine sequel to the monumental trilogy that we have all enjoyed and
an extension of the world of Middle Earth witch JRR Tolkien so diligently perfected threw out the course of his extraordinary life.


Prologue

After the War of the Ring Bilbo and Frodo compiled a history of our world using there own adventures and the councils of the wise as there guide. Although
the red book of westmartch was composed by Frodo, Sam, and Bilbo himself the recorded notes of Master Samwise in particular have not been published in
Gondor or in the Shire until know. Ever since the Red Book was divided up among the Hobbits we have waited for an account of the return of the darkness
following the return of the king our own beloved Aragornn son of Arathorn also called Elesar. I findagild have translated master Samwise words with grate
care and wish the old hobbit only the best where ever he is. It was sead that he left middle earth after his wife died but more on this matter can not
be guessed. I'm afraid though the total sum of notes that Samwise Gamgy left behind are not grate in number regarding the events leading up to the beginning
of the second war this generation has known. As a result Sam's notes must only serve as a prologue to this remarkable story. The rest have been adapted
from the actual participants of the conflict who's histories' are almost completely established in this book or in other documents witch you can find at
Micle Delving in the shire, the ancestral home of the Tooks also in the land of the Halflings, and finally our very own library hear in Minas Anor formally
known as Minas Tirith. Master Samwise Gamgy's notes during the peaceful years of this age begin almost ten days after Frodo left for the undying lands
with Gandalf and some of the greatest elf lords the world has ever known. According to Gamgy and Eleanor his daughter the hobbits weren't really interested
in the histories of the war of the ring published by the survivors of Sauron's desperate final struggle although there were a few copies of the red book
of westmartch found in the libraries in the Shire until the watr of the Fourth age began. Samwise was elected mayor and held that office for several long
and fruitful years and Marry and Pippin traveled to Gondorian territories in the south like Minas Anor or Osgiliath witch Elessar rebuilt. Besides these
notes there entire records of conversations Sam had with his friends Marry and Pippin as well as his children especially Eleanor and Frodo junior. One
such quiet chat at the green dragon around Gamgy's departure for the havens. He was talking to Eleanor when she commented on how much she enjoyed the book
named Translations from the elvish witch Bilbo wrote in Imladris. In response Sam went on a grate deal about his knolling of the elves threw his adventures
with Frodo and the legends he heard in Rivendil and from Aragorn. "What of the estari wizards?" "Where do they come from" Sam's daughter eagerly asked.
It seems that Bilbo never included a history of the early third age since Eleanor didn't recognize the chapters witch are now found in our versions of
Bilbo's book about the Elder Days. What is certain is Mr. Sam Gamgy's puzzlement molding over Eleanor's question. He had journeyed with the wise wizard
Gandalf for thousands of miles and had come to know him relatively well yet the true identity of him and his brethren was still an allusive mystery. Tree
beard had told Marry and Pippin that the wizards came from the west but wether were elvish folk of some other kind or simply immortal gods returned to
earth in human form he could not say. However while Sam was concluding that perhaps an answer might never be discovered until the ending of the world a
tall elderly wizened man with aged wrinkled red cheeks, a warm gentle benevolent smile, and a long brown beard stepped to his side and introduced himself..
"I am Radagast the wizard, magician, and sorcerer and what ever else you people call me." "I am the friend of birds and beasts, the lord of the wide forests,
and the green pastures full of beautiful wild creatures free from bondage free from domination of any sort." The wizard's words were impressive but not
forceful or intimidating. In fact they were more rustic and plainly cheerful like that of Old Tom Bombadil and his wife Goldburry for there to was placed
a hidden power with witch Gandalf often had prompted the wise to grate deeds. "Do I have your permission to tell your daughter Eleanor all that she wishes
answered noble Samwise master of green gardens home of all my smaller woodland friends" the old man asked politely yet impassively although he
didn't care if the answer was to his likening or not. "By al means good Radagast"" came Sam's reply followed by a warm smile. "Very well then I can only
tell you both those facts witch I am permitted to tell for I am still in the service of the Valar until I depart back to Valenor." "Who are the Valar asked
Eleanor with a furtive excited glimpse of another story. "They are the angelic protectors of this world sent to middle earth by the creator Eru Iluvitar."
"I and my fellow Estary or wizards as we are often now called came to middle earth as old men bent with age but vigorous in nature for we are the lesser
spirits under the protection of the Valar themselves the Miar." Sam nodded his head looking back to all that he had known of Gandalf and smiled remembering
the aged appearance he always bore while at the same time hiding an eternal incommunicable strength as apparent as the majesty of the lady Galadriel. "As
wizards" Radagast continued "It is our task to help guide the free peoples of middle earth aggenst the evil influences of Sauron and his servants." "But
the dark lord fell and so too diminishes his servant's blurtedd out Eleanor. Sam nodded his agreement imagining the dark lord Sauron toppling from his
dark throne in mordor after his master destroyed the ring. But then agen it was not Frodo who finally destroyed it after all. It was Gollum. Samwise grimaced
to think of the vial creature and how he had watched helplessly as Gollum had bit of Frodo's finger and then plummet to his death in the fires of the crack
of doom. Yet the quest could not have been achieved if it hadn't been for frodo's resolve to keep Gollum alive and let him get killed along the way by
Faramir or by me Sam pondered gloomily. A shadow of the past was haunting his dreams and wild thoughts to the point where he had to leave Middle earth
pretty soon. Like Frodo he had been wounded by grief but unlike his master his loved ones like his wife distracted his pain and directed his strength in
the right direction. Now Rose cotton his loving wife was dead and he had a long and prosperous life. It was time to see Frodo. It was time to go to the
grey havens. "I'm sorry friends but the legacy of Sauron endures and although his servants are less potent then they were before there are still orcs and
trolls and other nameless things witch must be stamped out." The wizard's retort was gentle but forceful and it also seemed to delve in to Sam's mind although
the old bent frail Estary before him could read his mind. "Weren't more of your kind" asked Eleanor oblivious to the deeper meaning of the wizard's last
words regarding the legacy of the darkness the shadow that still remained. "Yes there were five of us two of witch you have heard of Saruman and Gandalf."
"Saruman's disembodied spirit still haunts the earth useless and altogether harmless and Gandalf has returned to his long home and I doubt that he will
return. "I Radagast you have met and I are summoned to return to Valenor land of the Valar where my heart can rest with even mor birds and beasts of all
sorts." "Finally there were two other blue wizards whose names I don't recall who passed in to the east long ago." "They have never returned to the west
as far as I am concerned or at least the west of Middle Earth although now that Sauron is overthrown they too may seek the havens or go to Minas Anor or
Anumenas to help the King Aragorn." This news was encouraging but not reliable. Perhaps the blue Estari wizards would come and perhaps thay would not.
Radagast apparently could not say but never the less Eleanor was thrilled and rushed home to tell Frodo Junior at once. Samwise sed good by to his knew
friend Radagast for the last time and sailed in to the west seventeen days later on a small wooden barge or so tees sed. There thousands of other accounts
but I deem most of them fiction. Yet this I hold to be true. When Sam finally reached Valenor he met up aggen with Frodo his master and that thay died
together painlessly in bliss and happiness. Thus passed on the last Ring Barer.


Chapter one

The dark pine trees on the borders of Ithillian and old Osgiliath stood menacingly blacker then the festering gloom of Murkwood. Ravenous wolves that
hadn't walked in that land crept as quiet as foxes amid the tall grass and the birds quivered in there nests out of fear. Farmir and his wife knew something
was wrong. That had visited Aragorn's son Eldarrian shortly after he had been crown king in response to his beloved father's death. In the short time Faramir
knew Aragorn thay had become trusty friends united in the higher purpose to unite the old realms of the Dunadain in politics and with the sword if need
be. He was the king's steward but he had been also Aragorn's friend and advisor on other levels other then the throne of Minas Tirith. Thay had discussed
the values of a healer and how war shouldn't be used lightly aggenst foes even before a political crisis emerged witch was seldom. With Aragorn gone it
was up to his son Eldarrian to guide the kingdoms of north and south aggenst her enemies. Orcs still prowled the misty mountains and trolls though stupid
and very dull witted continued to plague the north where Aranorian justice was replaced by lawlessness before the war of the ring. The united realms of
Arnor and Gondor were established but thay kneaded to be reinforced by both law and force. Eldarrian was mutch like his father and even seemed to have
inherited some elvish qualities from his mother Arwin. He was ready to claim the kingship. Faramir thought he heard a stone drop or a stick crack and
turned only to find a dagger pointed at his neck. Sweat seemed to materialize on his forehead and his hands violently trembled. The thirty seven body guards
that had followed the lord and lady of Ithallian drew there swords at once and drew closer to there captain and commander still standing reso
lute before the face of his assassin. The orca with the knife pressed to Faramir's neck fell to the damp muddy earth a fethered shaft still patruding from
his right side. Faramir turned to his guards to congratulate them but then saw them all staring in Eowin's direction stunned but also rather amused. The
white lady of Ithalllian and the Mark former shieldmaden of kings had stolen a crossbow from a guard near by and had dispatched her enemy with one quick
short. He shared one admiring glance with Eowin before turning to his men with a authoritative and calm expression on his face. The words came painfully
to his lips as he comprehended the magnitude of there apparent meaning. "Where tares one orc there is more." "The vial creature must have come down from
the north and are thinking of assailing Minas Anor." "Now our beloved city is Minas Tirith city of guard once aggen." The grim worried movements of the
guards were as horrified and yet still iordilly as only an army can be. Thay all knew that the fow that menny of them had fought only a few decades before
in the Arnorian lands or thare father's own foes at the Plain of the pelenor had returned bent on destruction. Soon the vails of Anduin and port towns
now reclaimed for Gondor were in jeperity and territories hard won with the sword would ffall in to enemy hands. But then aggen it was only one tracker.
What asurence did they have that an entire army was headed this way? Could this just be an isolated incident? Then a pale light flickered in the east the
light of a camp fire. The glow seemed hostile and pertinacious in the ever present gloom of that evening. As Faramir stared menacingly at the blaze far
off he thought he recalled the hobbit Pippin recounting some adventure of his uncle Bilbo's that also involved a night on foot after a rain storm in the
woods with only a few faithful guards or companions and ironically an mysterious camp fire far off. That venture turned out ill for Bilbo's friends or
so Faramir thought but he couldn't remember exactly why. Then it suddenly came back to him. Trolls from the mountains had come down from the highlands
to reek havoc on the villages in the old lands of Arnor near Aman Sul. Could there be UT-ROLLS in Ithallian too. Faramir's dark thoughts must have come
to be present in some contorted expression in his face for Eowin asked "Is anything wrong?" "Of course" he sead quietly. "Orcs in Ithallian and now a flickering
camp fire in the midst of no man's land." "I don't know what to make of it." "IS the shadow of Sauron emerging from the black land to trouble us or is
this some knew devilry." His words were not spoken harshly to Eowin yet she could see that her husband was upset. This night had been long and restless.
Thay had gone the wrong way originally but Faramir and the Guards thought they had found the old path aggen. Now they were surely in Ithallian but where
exactly to Eowin were still a question that needed to be answered. "Are you sure we took the right path towards home or are we stuck in the wilderness?"
One of the soldiers came to her side before his lord could reply and assured her that they taken the right road back to the house they had built on the
old king Aragorn's orders. Soon they would be home and safe from orcs or what ever other beasts awaited them in the woodlands. In response Eowin gave the
guard a stare cold and clearly firm as adamant that told him that she was unafraid of what ever awaited them in the wild and that she thought that he was
wrong. Faramir seemed convinced although uneasy and informed one of his scouts to spy out the fire but not to get too close. "Who knows what lies on the
other side of these rows of trees and that blaze as well and if there are orcs there camp should be guarded." He added to his tracker. Faramir had hunted
in the forests of the Grey mountains with Boromir when he was only a child. Then they had driven off a full grown bare and stealthily passed a pack of
wargs but there father Denathor didn't believe him or Boromir for once. Yet Boromir was always the mountain man rough and ready for the fight while he
on the other hand was more cautious seeking to avoid peril unless there was no other choice but to fight. If he was called to do battle he was almost always
affective in dispatching what ever creature came his way but he never admitted his fighting skill to himself. Boromir had always been the perfect soldier
but . . .
Before Faramir cold recall Frodo words concerning his brother's fall to the lure of the one ring before he died protecting Marry and Pippin Eowin interrupted
his train of thought. "Your scout still has not returned and I fear although your men are loathing admitting it that we maybe lost..." Faramir shook his
head saying "I doubt that my men couldn't find there way in the dark after enduring the worst of conditions a tracker could encounter in Osgilliath during
that Orc raid following the War of the Ring." "These men are more then prepared to get us back home." "But I do sense something is amiss" he added moodily.
"Some lingering malice remains on this lovely land and the orc is proof enough to me that an army might be on its way but then aggen it could be only a
member of a pack of goblins hunting close to the old fords." "We should know when our guard returns from that light." "That blasted camp fire might cost
us the element of surprise if he's caught' retorted Eowin. "I doubt that an army could be headed this way with out the sentinels knowing about it and the
Palantir in the hands of Eldarian reveals almost everything" another soldier cut in. "We can only wait and hope fervently fore the best my friends" Faramir
sead after a long agonizing pause. The guard of Faramir and Eowin waited for over an hour and yet still no sign of there comrade could be seen. Perhaps
he was captured and there headed this way Eowin thought miserably still grasping a hidden dagger tied to her belt. A decision had to be made. If there
were goblins out there and there tracker was in enemy hands they could travel this way and cut off any chance of escape. At last Faramir spoke up and ordered
Mablung a son of a veteran of the same name and fighting skill to go forth and seek out the guard that was missing and the nature of that cursed camp fire
still shining in the distance. Slowly yet assuredly the scout crept away hardly leaving a noise just as his forerunner had done not so long before. As
Mablung drew ever closer to the fiery blaze lighting up the night sky he could see the peaks of the grey mountains of Gondor and knew it for a sign that
the lady Eowin was correct an that they were on the wrong road. He measured the distance between the fire light and the mountains and realized that there
was a path leading deeper in to the trees. That was the road Faramir and Mablung's other friends should have taken and it ran ironically almost directly
in to the wrong path they had taken in a crossroads witch only the most cunning eyes could have spotted in that impenetrable shadow. Mablung almost turned
back with joy but then remembered is true mission and stared defiantly at the unearthly glow that grew almost to the size of a large carriage as he crept
over another mound spiked with jagged stones. He wondered if he was standing on the grave of a mighty warrior of old perhaps the son of a Numenorian king
or princeling. Mablung shook these thoughts from his wary head and turned to face the fire even more focused on his task and determined then before. The
lives of his lord and lady depended on his courage and he wasn't going to let his skills as a warrior or a tracker fall short of there purpose. When the
scout reached the edge of the fire he noticed the goblins almost at once. One was standing by the tree nearest to; him looking towards the fire and baring
a cruel straight bladed bastard sword. Intimidated and at last overcome by fear Mablung swayed aside and accidentally cracked a branch alerting the orc
to his presence. The beast came silently to Mablung's hiding place and put his nose to the earth but did not spot the stranger only a yard away behind
a bush until it was too late. Faramir's trusted scout leapt like an animal crazed and bloodthirsty and throttled the orc with his two bare hands. Luckily
the dying goblin's cries for help were drowned out by the sound of thunder that came from the west. A storm was approaching and it was rushing towards
the orc camp fast and faramir's company. Mablung knew that he had been saved by divine providence and actually stopped to reflect on the larger metaphysical
implication of the Valar intervening assistance before turning to the fire once aggen. There were at least a hundred or more orcs mustered in rows of closely
situated black tents and perhaps even more goblins hidden in the darkness that festered beneath the tall oak trees that grew along the tents fore miles.
All the creatures were in some council sitting squat on the ground around the fire that blazed forth scarlet as blood consuming the dry fire wood greedily.
In the midst of every cluster of orcs that encircled there fire was larger goblins Uruci grim and threatening glaring at one another. Apparently there
had been some disagreement that had only just died down. It might have been an argument about the road Mablung thought optimistically. Yet then the soldier's
thoughts turned to his companion still in the camp somewhere bound in chains or moaning in some bleak place where he was guarded by trillions of blood
thirsty goblins with wicked swords. The gear of the orcs also seemed to vary depending on where they had come from or so Mablung guessed. Smaller goblins
standing closest to the fire had curved blades and still bore the tokens of there kind. Crude symbols of skulls and tangwer inscriptions were engraved
in to their shields and helms. Some of the larger yet not so gigantic of the orcs still carried the livery of the red eye of Sauron but he was no more
of that mutch Mablung was clear. His lord Elessar had done his job of kicking out all the vial folk out of the black land inc luding the dark lord of Barad
Dur all too well. However the gondorian scout couldn't help feeling that some of the retched orcs might have returned when all seemed free from peril.
The towers of the teeth and Serith Ungol had been reclaimed for Minas Tirith but they were unoccupied since the entire focus of the might of Elessar was
bent on reuniting his realm especially in the north. How this oversight escaped Gandalf and other grate ones in the high councils of the white tower and
of the kingdoms of men Mablung could not say. One of the mutch larger orcs stepped in to the fire a black Uruc larger then the soldiers of Isengard of
old and there the gondorian captain Mablung also beheld another livery terribly reminiscent of something he could not remember. On the beast's helm was
a blue hand in witch was clasped a green serpent wriggling hopelessly as all its life was drained away. Then he noticed on all the other tallest orcs the
same symbol too and Mablung knew it for a sign that they ere all in league with a knew master. That master must have assembled this army out of all the
old orc companies left over from the war of the ring. But who? The question stung Mablung's heart like an arrow yet he first needed to find his companion
the other tracker who disappeared before he went clue finding or should I say clue answering. Thoughts unbidden f his friend being tortured to death came
flooding his mind as though placed there by some sorcerer himself and then the scout felt a strange desire to reveal himself and try to find his friend
or companion although it should prove futile if not completely fatal. How it angered Mablung that one of his own company trained in the arts of reconnaissance
should find himself taken captive by these vial subhuman bestial demons. The tallest and most muscular of the enemy appeared from a large mysterious tent
baring some package laden with something very heavy for the beast was stooping with exhaustion as he bore it near to the fire. That same goblin then turned
to his comrades and sead something inaudible to his friends in black speech or more likely another more animalistic orc form of speech unheard by all those
save those most unfortunate beings to encounter these beasts up close and personal like himself. The heart of the captain of Minas Anor and Ithallian beat
ever faster as Mablung realized that the goblin was baring his fellow gondorian soldier the missing scout in a felt sack. With a quick horrifying movement
the tallest orc tossed the body in to the ravenous camp fire. The hungry blaze soon consumed the dead man's flesh and a reek of burning meet stank threw
the orc host but instead of disgusting them it invigorated them all. Mablung was simply disgusted and he felt like going back but resisted the temptation
to slink away from peril. Just as he pondered this very thought the large cruel looking Uruc towering over the other goblins surprisingly began addressing
them in the common speech. This I deem was because the dialects of the orc hosts assembled there were completely different making communicating in the
tongue of the orcs virtually impossible. "Now my lads" growled the captain of the goblins "You have all had some fun with our prisoner and now it is time
fore some work." Screeches and low moans from the orcs revealed there opinions regarding their commander's so called Work." Mablung crept even closer to
the fire eager to know even more about these despicable creatures not knowing whether they ere more like animals or human beings. It was declared in elvesh
lore that goblins were descended from tortured elves but at closer glance these beasts were more man like and certainly less elegant. A shiver of pity
melded with understanding filled the tracker's mind and Mablung was seized by his own thought begin before he could pay attention to the conversation at
hand. Before the orc companies at the center of the ring of dark skinned goblins was a model of a towered fortress surrounded by several walls and battlements.
With interest and yet even grater horror the gondorian Mablung realized that it was a crude replica of Minas Anor formally known as Minas Tirith during
the war of the ring. They were going to attack the people so that meant that were more goblins along another hidden roadway in the forest perhaps even
thousands. Yet once again who was leading them? This orc before his troops was surely only a general. There had to be some grater magician or demonic sorcerer
guiding these generals who turn was told to direct there own soldiers. Their had been reports of men from the east moving westward but mass migrations
to the west had frequently happened over Middle Earth's long history yet then again these cruel looking orcs might be only the vanguard of a much larger
force comprised of mortal humans from the lands far Eastward that once were tributary to Mordor. Could the black land actually still be inhabited far under
ground where the roots of Barad Dur where still not fully explored. Spies that had ventured that far saw nothing on the surface but perhaps in subterranean
mines beneath the soil were trillions of black Uruci servants of a knew master of darkness and death. Then as though answering his question Mablung heard
the orc general say something about a hidden stronghold in Lugburs witch was the orc's name fore Mordor and some one called Morgoth. Morgoth was in the
beginning Sauron's master and the enemy of the noldorin elves in the first age but he had been captured by the angelic protectors of middle earth the Valar
and cast in to the void where no being cold return with some devilry or aid beyond the comprehension of the Valar themselves. Could the first dark lord
of Arda Middle Earth have returned to destroy the descendents of the men the Edain who fought him long ago in the remote depths of time from witch only
legends now remain? No that was impossible completely impossible. Morgoth was chained and imprisoned still and if he had a symbol to declare his renewed
arising it would be his iron crown and not a blue hand crushing a serpent riggleing fore salvation. No this Morgoth had to be a different foe but at the
least one equally as powerful. Mablung turned to his memories of what he knew in the elvish tongue of the west and then finally came up with another clue
that might answer his doubts concerning this knew enemy of the Dunadain. Morgoth in elvish means the dark enemy of the world or something like it fore
so I have been informed by the lore masters in Minas Anor my home. "How long do you think it will be before we reach the city" asked a smaller more evil
looking foot soldier in the service of the goblins of the misty mountains. "Two days at the least my inquisitive ass of a swordsman you swine" retorted
the orc general with an odd wicked looking smile still spread across his face. "Morgoth the good master will have more man flesh fore all of us as long
as we hold true to his plans." "Our duty exists only as long as there are whips at our backs and plenty of spoils ahead." Mablung was frantic. Two days
was hardly enough time fore a messenger to reach the white city of Minas Tirith. He had to leave this place and soon with out being captured or spitted
by an arrow at any rate. He turned to go when he thought he saw something at the corner of his eye a shadowy form of a man like figure sat on a wooden
stool under an old tree. Gnarled and bent with age. All of a sudden the figure stood up to a grate height perhaps seven feet tall and strode to the orc
general still outlining his master Morgoth's plan. In the fire light the entire form of the stranger could be seen and it was a dreadful sight to say the
least. The demon was armored in black plate armor and covered in not only a hooded cape but also a shirt of male underneath made of galvorn rings linked
together by some craftsman long long ago. On his face and head was an iron helm with a visor in the likeness of a skull and where his eyes should have
been glowed a keen light far more red in appearance then the flames and certainly more threatening looking. The hands of the black footman where gloved
and he wore big black boots. Taller then Mablung had ever seen before. The moment the stranger walked in to the light of the blaze the goblins quailed
and shivered with fright. To Mablung it seemed that a gust of cold air from the mountains had come down to the forests or out of icy caverns far in the
north where trolls still dwell but they are few and hard to find. From the mask of the specter came a voice both remote yet masterful deeper then the wells
of Moria and more evil sounding then the goblins before his feet. The voice effortlessly sed "There is an enemy in your camp." "You go examine the tents
while search the forests." "He must be found at once." "If the Gondorian soldiers find us hear but don't assail us then they might do much harm to the
master's cause." "If you find him bring him to me unspoiled for if you simply bring me a body then I will not hesitate to inform Morgoth of your disobedience."
Mablung had no time to waste. He knew that if he stayed he would be caught and there was no more information he could discover now. Apparently this specter
was a servant of the enemy and of grater importance then the orcs witch wasn't surprising. Yet what was odd to say the least was the stranger's supernatural
presence a kin to the mystical powers of the Nazgul the ring wraiths. Just as all creatures dreaded the wraiths of Sauron it seemed that all living beings
where also petrified of this . . . .
Mablung couldn't make out exactly what it was. He delved back in to his memories of Frodo's adventures in the red book in Gondor and the wraiths he and
Elessar encountered. But since the destruction of Sauron the powers of the nine rings to enslave the sperrits of mortals had ended. The nazgul could not
return but then who was this person if not the enemy him self. Then the captain of Gondor had it. He's a spirit of Angmar that dwelt in the barrows in
the old forest Mablung concluded. Some evil must have recalled them to work fore Morgoth. He wondered if this was the same spirit the same barrow white
that had captured the hobbit Frodo and his friends but then again that ghost had been driven from his lair by Tom Bombadil. Mablung tried to crawl away
threw the under brush only to find the barrow white following him in the midst of the dark trees. He then attempted to fool the old spirit from his trail
by crawling on soft grass muffling any potential noise but the barrow white still sensed him and continued to stoop to the earth and read the signs of
his pray still hiding somewhere. The clink of the barrow white's male and the heavy foot falls of his boots sounded almost like funeral drums and some
shaker filling the air with undeniable rattling metallic noise that drove fear in to the bravest hearts imaginable. Still the specter traced all of the
spy's gentle steps yet still the wily gondolier soldier escaped the impenetrable stare of those two fiery eyes. Golden red as hot embers they glowed now
in the wood and like the eye of Sauron they hardly missed anything the specter wished to locate but luck was with Mablung that night or some aid of the
Valar come down to protect him from all harm. All the while he pondred the facts he had uncovered molding them over carefully sorting threw the possible
courses Minas Tirith could know take. Faramir and Eowin where too old to fight again. Mablung knew that even there own guard where betting on when they
would die. The lady of the shield arm Eowin was aged in both appearance and mood and although Faramir was of Numenorian blood he was still mortal. Yes
the Gondorian captain knew that both lord and lady of Ithillian where on death's doorstep. The only aid the white city could find was from Rohan for the
king Elfwine was bound by the oath of Eol that his father Eomer took again to Elessar after he was crowned king. The beacons had to be lit and fast or
a relief force could not reach Minas Anor or should I say Minas Tirith city of guard before Morgoth unleashed his attack. Further more the king Eldarrian
needed to know that Lugburs Mordor was still a hive for Orc activity. Perhaps in the black land the knew dark lord was hiding in Sauron's old hidden secret
subterranean chambers. Yet know Mablung's job was to get back to Faramir or the white city was doomed. That much Mablung knew to be true but how could
he escape such a vial creature as the spirit that hunted him now. The barrow white was gaining on him every step he took and with further assistance he
would be captured and likely brought to Morgoth or at the least murdered and dragged in to the camp fire. The wind was moaning like the Nazgul and wining
like a missile pretentiously signaling that doom was near at hand but the specter bright eyed and blood thirsty still didn't spot him. Just as the scout
felt like he was going to give up he saw only a few yards ahead of him the soldiers he left behind on the wrong path. At there head was Faramir looking
worried and conflicted pondering weathering or not to attack what ever awaited him and his men at the fire if orcs where indeed to be found there. Eowin
tottered back and forth her elderly face lined and care worn turned up to the stars. Not one of Faramir's men saw there comrade or the shadow that followed
him bent on death and utter ruin in its evil thought dominated by Morgoth's will. At last Mablung ran to his fellow gondorians only just missing the barrow
white's rapid attack. The ghost's dagger thrown directly at the captain's head missed him by an inch and bore its way deep in to the tree closest to Faramir.
Faramir turned to see his friend and the barrow white standing a foot away from him preparing to unsheathe his long sword forged in Angmar at the dawn
of the Third Age perhaps by the Witch King himself. Eowin lifted her own dagger and threw at the shadow but it harmlessly reflected off the specter's helm
like a toy. "Who are you and why are you hear tracking down my scout to the death" Faramir calmly declared in an authoritative tone. The barrow white hesitated
fore a moment and then hissed "My master Morgoth wishes to reclaim all his former territories and to take vengeance on the Dunadain for there assistance
in his overthrow at the close of the first age." "Your spy has information that concerns my master and I and I wish to silence at once." "Morgoth has
not escaped from bondage" replied Faramir confidently. "The even star the lord Earendil who sails the skies guarding the enemy still rises at evening even
now" he continued pointing to a beautiful star glimmering amid the heavens but not taking his eyes from the stranger. Be gone and trouble us no more else
your fortune turn aggenst you and your master" Eowin added her lined faced transforming in to an expression of loathing and anguish. With out retorting
or returning another verbal blow the barrow white lifted his sword to kill the scout Mablung but was stopped dead in his tracks by Eowin who wrenched the
dagger from the tree and bore it down in to the specter's sword arm. Then Faramir unsheathing his own blade sliced off armor and what ever unnaturally
substance that lay beneath in one blinding flash. As the form of the specter squirmed like a dying worm Eowin asked the barrow white "Are there more of
your kind in the service of your master." "That you shale find out soon enough" coughed the quacking armored body. Then with a blinding flash of tongues
of flame and shattered metal the barrow white burst apart its disembodied spirit floating away to the outer void where gates stand for ever shut and all
evil things are barred from entering the world again. All was now quiet and free from immediate danger but Mablung still had to tell his tale to Faramir
and that was done treading the correct path back to the steward's quarters far far away. The news would reach Rohan and by beacon light in less then forty
hours and the warning bells would ring in Minas Tirith city of guard once again. The war would strike the free peoples of Middle earth both north and south
as soon as the news of what had taken place in Ithallian reached the ears of Morgoth. For good or evil the sorcerer's war had begun.


Chapter 2
Elboron son of Faramir was a noble man of high lineage and beloved by his parents. Being the son of a former shield maiden of Rohan he had been trained
in the arts of war craft but also being the son of faramir steward of gondor friend of Elessar the healer he was learned in herb lore. When his parents
had gone to king Eldarian's crowning he wished to go but being the son of his father he had to remain behind and take care of the family estate. To Elboron's
amazement and grate sorrow only nine days after the terrible news of the attack on Gondor reached his ears both Faramir and Eowin died in there sleep and
the steward of the realm passed to him. There was only one huge problem. The city of Minas Anor now officially under siege was also the seat of power for
the king Eldarian and there in the white city he had been caught and surrounded by his enemies. Although the beacons had been lit the Roherrim had been
assailed from the north by surprise and were forced to evacuate to Dun Harro leaving the golden hall to the ravenous Orcs and hill trolls of Morgoth. Until
the Roherim drove a gap in the siege of Minas Anor now mockingly named Minas Tirith by the men of Faramir's household there was no way for Elboron to
council his liege lord king Eldarian. Luckily horseman and spare reserves from the weapon take at Dun Harrow had been able to guard Elboron's house but
not for long. His men reported that the main army out of the north would turn to seize his hold over Ithillian if Rohan was captured for good. But that
day had been delayed by the courage of the king Elfwine and the bravery of the sons of Eol. Yet as long as an army from the north and another force came
from the south the north and south kingdoms were caught between the hammer and the anvil of the dark lord. Elborom had long given thought to who this knew
enemy truly was. It was plain to the free peoples of Middle Earth that the magician who had started this mess wished to fool all of Elessar's old kingdom
that he was indeed Melcor Morgoth Sauron's master returned from the cages of the forgetfull Valar but that scheme had failed. All realized that the enemy
had to be a wizard of some sort since his symbol the blue hand clasping the green snake bore a clear resemblance to Saruman's white hand witch the Uruci
once used during the War of the Ring. On the night Faramir and Eowin died they mysteriously gave Elborom several books in elvish witch were smuggled out
of Rivendel before it was burned by raiding Orcs out of Angmar. Rivendel had been refounded as a safe haven for the soldiers of Ellesar but now that the
enemy Morgoth had come to unleash his two major assaults the former elf stronghold was abandoned to the dark lord. In that library where thousands of ancient
manuscripts in the form of thick red books and crumbling scrolls witch the wise elven lord Elrond had left behind for the preservation of the three ages
that where no more. The elves left middle earth hoping that men and dwarves would not forget the darkness of Melcor and Sauron but the library was burned
to the ground by Morgoth and only a few books now remain. Elborom knew that somewhere in those books where facts if not entire articles regarding the Estary
the wizards and if his hunch was correct the new dark lord was of that same order. There was only one minor problem. He couldn't read elvish at all. But
he knew some one who did. Mablung's wife Morwin had studied both Sindar and the high tongue of the west for over half a decade being enthralled with the
legends of the elder days as told in Bilbo's published work known as Translations from the Elvish. Elboron would give her the books for good if she agreed
to translate the elvish documents to find out who this sorcerer truly was or at the very least his history. Records that have only just come to light reveal
that Morwin was eager to begin working on translating the manuscripts but also that it took longer then originally thought. You have probably heard that
she translated the books in five days with out any assistance and that work of scholarship has been attempted by many yet seldom fully accomplished. In
reality from Mablung's account of the story rather then Elboron's I have determined that it took a fortnight to finally convert the unreadable complex
Noldorin texts in to the common speech. For his wife's contributions and his own incredible acts of heroism Mablung the scout was promoted to Elboron's
cabinet of advisors in matters of war. The information he and he alone collected was of extreme importance in guessing the enemy's military structure,
how the hosts where assembled. And the amazing skill of the Barrow whites. During the war of the ring it was guessed that for every barrow there had to
be at least one barrow white but since the rise of Morgoth the wizard only four of them had been spotted by the Roherrim. This was in part because those
evil beings had not been present in there barrows when the attacks on Lorian where made but likely in Mirkwood in Dol Guldor where they learned much from
the wraith lord Khamul second in command to the Witch King. It was guessed that threw there evil arts they escaped being cast in to the void when the witch
king's power died and where able to resist sun light. By the end of Sauron's domination over Mordor they had become more like wraiths then barrow whites
for there power was far grater then the ghosts that haunted the barrows of the old forest. Why they had left there barrows to walk in the full light of
day and how they escaped being destroyed in the light of the sun even the wisest can not say. It was presumed that out of the four barrow whites that now
roamed the earth one was slain but whether they had one fixed dwelling place north south east or west no soldier of the white tower could say. However
much was learned about the new dark lord as Elborom had guessed once the books of Elrond where finally translated for one out of the ten volumes of ancient
history dealt with all that Elrond himself knew about the five wizards and it is said among the scholars of Minas Anor that that volume was written in
Master Elrond's own elegant penmanship rather then a lesser scribe of his house hold. Apparently the wizards where a closely kept secret among the wise
and there origins where fully understood by only a select few like Galadriel. Kerdon and Elrond of course. The five Estary who came to Middle earth where
Miar spirits sent by the Valar to guide mortals and other folk aggenst the enemy Sauron who was taking shape once more in the land of Mordor. Of those
wizards Curunir or Saruman was the chief but he turned to evil and became envious of the dark power of Sauron. The next wizard of grate account was Mithrandir
or Gandalf the friend and councilor of the Elves, and there where also the Estary by the name of Radagast who did not hold true to his purpose and dwelled
in the forests studying birds and beasts. He did not care for the wars of men or elves unless they affected his animals but he was an enemy of the one
enemy and was a friend of Gandalf. Now Saruman was dead, Gandalf and Radagast gone to the Havens where they left fore the blessed realm, but there where
two other Estary. They where known as the blue wizards and there names where only preserved by the elves. They passed in to the east where there dealings
with men where lost to the pages of history. None save Curunir discovered whether they where successful or whether turned to black magic but for an age
the elves thought that they had to have not fallen in to the webs of Sauron since there names meant something like protector of the east in there ancient
tongue. Yet now Elborom perceived that one of these wizards had returned to the west lands of Middle Earth and had turned to evil and became the new dark
lord. The massed of men from the east had to have been his new army ready to stamp out the Dunidain for all time. In fact thirty years before the Sorcerer's
war began one hooded and bearded stranger had been spotted riding a black horse threw Roan. No horseman dared stop him for they thought he was Gandalf
returned from the west but they never saw him ever again. From there he must have turned northward to Angmar and the misty mountains and raised an army
of Orcs while at the same time allowing his fellow blue wizard lead the army of men from East to west. What deal Morgoth the blue wizard at struck with
his brother is unknown but it is assumed that he offered to give the entire east kingdom of his knew empire to his fellow Estary after the West was conquered.
That deal Morgoth probably planned on braking as his forerunners Sauron and his master of the same name as the new dark lord had done for the last thousand
years. The thought that another all powerful Estary bent on the ruin of the Dunidain was coming and that they still had to deal with this other darker
lord froze Elboron's hopes to icy despair as motionless and helpless as a slug fleeing from a winged vulture. Yes the North and South armies of Morgoth
and converged to destroy Gondor but now there was also another army clearly headed from the east. Reports of another bearded lord dressed in blue robes
had also run threw Rohan over a week before he had even read Morwin's translations but Elboron was still ignorant of this fact. Soon now very soon unless
Rohan beat back the Orcs out of the Mark Eldarian was as good as dead. A message had to be sent to king Elfwine at Dun harrow but whom? Then Elboron stared
in to Mablung's blue eyes and knew the answer at once. He dreaded informing his advisor that he was needed on a suicide mission in to enemy territory leaving
his wife and little boy Arahad behind but Mablung was the only scout with witch Elboron could trust this information with. He also needed to avoid being
captured for if Morgoth learned that the son of Faramir knew of his plans then he might send men faster to the front from the east bringing any hopes of
preventing Gondor's destruction to a stand still. With one deep breath as long and delayed as spring after Winter Elborom lord of Ithillian son of Faramir
stepped up to Mablung and made his request. The news hit the former scout like a slap in the face driving the claws of despair deeper in to his already
troubled mind. What his lord was asking was as good as walking up to the entrance of Serith Ungul and asking Shelob the spider to consume his flesh for
breakfast. "My lord" Mablung argued "There are over one hundred legions of Orcs and trolls and who knows what else between hear and Dun harrow." "All of
Rohan is chock full of enemies and we are already left vulnerable." "If Morgoth learns of what you have told me he will strike what little land we have
left hear in Ithillian with so much force that there will be nothing left of this house or its people.." "Then what would you have me do" Elborom calmly
but cautiously replied. "Should I myself go and leave this people leaderless and get caught."" "I am no tracker and I can't trust any one else with what
I have told you." "There are spies in Ithillian of man kind witch know the common speech better then our rustic serfs I deem." "You stand the best chance
of reaching Elfwine in time and with out being taken prisoner." "I truly don't want to send any soldier in to peril but I fear if you refuse to go then
all of us are doomed to become slaves to Morgoth." “Elfwine must be warned." Mablung felt sick. He felt like arguing but knew he could not do so with
out making a fool of himself before his friends and masters. Morwin will not take this well he thought miserably before looking directly in to his lord's
eyes once again. "When I return Elborom my lord I wish to to see my wife and son safe and sound for if they lie dead it is you and you alone who are to
blame" Mablung feared another harsh remark from his master but he only nodded and looked away as though he was in pain. At last Faramir's son murmured
to the tracker "I'm sorry if I've caused you any distress my friend." "I have never been sorrier to deliver such news before." "If you return II will promote
you I promise." The promise was little more then a soft bandage to cover up the damage for the present. Mablung would be picking at the scab of his injustice
all the way to Elfwine and back. "When must I leave" asked Mablung bitterly. "Tomorrow morning" replied his lord trying to sound impassive. "Good luck."
"And" he quickly added "May the good will of all free folk go with you." The scout bowed and then left the room avoiding his companion's pitiful looks
of understanding and remorse. When he was gone Elborom left the room as well and made for his personal chambers and wept quietly for hours begging Iluvitar
for forgiveness. In the grey morning of the following day Mablung said farewell to his wife Morwin and young boy who refused to give up asking him to stay
with them. But the soldier was torn between duty and love and was commanded to go so he left. Of that parting much is lost since Mablung's writings regarding
this matter have long since been destroyed for reasons unknown. I deem that the memory of that sorrow was so grate that he couldn't reread his own words
about the departure for his quest any longer and scraped the paper or else it may have been merely lost to the pages of history as many historical documents
now are. It was rumored however that when he left Mablung stared in to the eyes of his son Aranoth and proclaimed "Someday the Dunidain shale say that
you walk in the likeness of your father but no then again they shale also say that you have surpassed him as well." "Greatest of all captains of war, mighty
friend to the house of Ellesar, my son I bid you only the best of fortune." However on the other hand there is no evidence to suggest that these words
are indeed authentic and the roomer was spread long after the fact during the rule of Elboron's grand son over Ithillian witch is the present time of the
construction of this book. I hope this note will help readers understand the difficulty in assembling the materials to complete the history of the return
of the darkness of witch all has never been told. Mablung's writings continue at a point in the narrative where is traveling threw the Ridermark of Rohan.
"To me" he often said in Minas Anor afterwards "it felt like I was a vulnerable target riding threw a sea of green grass clearly visible to unfriendly
eyes" "Elborom could not send me any companions on my perilous journey for fear of being spotted amid the fields of Elfwine for any horseman on such a
green flat plain is normally easily seen and more companions would only make me more visible to our enemies." Yet luckily the advisor and scout of the
lord of Ithillian saw few Orcs for the first couple of days out from Elboron's house. He did see companies of men and Orcs of course far off but not close
enough to pose a threat. All he did was lay down with his horse and pray that they didn't see him and often enough they didn't or saw a faint blur far
off and believed to be an odd rock formation witch occasionally appeared. But then on the fourth day he saw ahead of him on his grey steed a ruined town.
It grew closer and closer and it ran along his path to Elfwine's stronghold at Dun harrow. A stream ran across threw the town and it seemed easier to ride
threw the ruined court yard of the village appearing deserted rather then to swim with his horse Turgon threw the icy waters. If the current of the stream
was also strong it might also drag both horse and rider under. Since the war of the ring the course of the Isen had changed to include several smaller
streams as well this stream was however less strong then its brethren and so insignificant that wasn't even named. It would have been better off if Mablung
had tried to reach the other side threw the stream rather then over the wooden bridge at the center of town as you shale see As he entered the broken gate
he knew that something was wrong. Most of the buildings witch were useless straw and wooden huts where left standing. The village was almost virtually
intact despite the fact that its inhabitance where no where to be found. Was there an Orc raid wondered Mablung as he road Turgon threw the wide lain that
led to the bridge at the center of the court yard hoping that he had not made a mistake. The wind was wailing and blowing aggenst the straw thatched roofs
of the huts causing the foundations of some of the weaker building to creak and quaver for brief dismal moments. Yet besides the sound of the wind and
the crumbling huts all was pretty quiet. Even the footfalls of his steed hardly disturbed the endless silence more threatening then the most terrifying
battle cries. Something simply was amiss and it left Mablung's tracking skills not only baffled but almost useless drowned out by his uneasiness. To relieve
the tension he thought of singing or humming to himself but then thought better of it seeing the empty windows of the buildings staring down at him like
ominous black eyes intent and aware of his presence. Struck by anxiety at last but not wishing to make his predicament any worse the gondorian
scout dismounted Turgon and sat down in the grassy place before one of the tallest huts. Then he felt the sudden urge to sleep creeping up on him but fought
it knowing that it is not the best of sensations to succumb` to when your in a strange land swarming with enemies in a town that has just been possibly
attacked by goblins. No he would try to shake off the shadow and ride on. As soon as he could master what ever was frightening him he could move ahead
and then lie in the tall grass safe from the foe that dwelt in Rohan under his warm old cloak. Then with out warning something dark and man shaped appeared
around a corner he had just turned. It was hooded and clearly armored. In its right hand the creature held a knife that glowed with a pale light and in
his left he held a curved scimitar just as the Orcs use in the mountains. Although Mablung could not see its eyes he thought he could just make out the
glint of some kind of red light and suddenly realized who he was looking at. This was another Barrow White searching the town for enemies. He must have
sensed my presence thought Mablung frantically as he got to his feet and leaped on his horse. Turgon galloped away leaving the dark shadowy figure far
behind on foot... Unless the devil had a horse too he could not catch up with the scout if he was truly alone. Mablung shook his tired shaky head and cursed
Elborom knowing that where there was one servant of Morgoth there was always more. Already to his horror he could hear the sound of running feet behind
him and the blaring of a horn somewhere on his right. The tracker kicked his steed harder begging it to ride faster and the horse Turgon heard his master's
patiscions and galloped faster down the town's main road. Only a few yards now and Mablung would be free free from all foes that yammered and cried far
behind. Then his heart sank. Ahead of him was the bridge and before it stood over forty Orcs and a battalion of men at there call armed with cruel knives,
clubs, and axes. On either side of the bridge flanking the goblins where two mountain trolls taller then Mablung had ever heard tell of. Mablung rained
his horse in and stared open mouthed at the host that grinned at him yards ahead and then turning back to see even more goblins with the barrow white fiery
eyes blazing with triumph. There was no escape only death or torcher. Seeing no way to beat back the enemy Elboron's scout dismounted and drew his own
sword crying aloud at the barrow white "Go back." “Go back to your dark master and tell him that Gondor stands and although you may destroy her walls
you can never lay low her indomitable spirit." "Be gone and trouble this unhappy place ever again for if you be not deathless before I die to day I will
slay you." And in that moment such a majesty and hero's strength was revealed in Mablung that the Orcs quailed and hesitate as though lightning would fall
from the heavens and the Valar would strike them all down. But the barrow white dark aggenst the blue sky lifted his knife and laughed maniacally like
a drunken fool ignorant of the true meaning of life and love witch only the sober fully enjoy. The sound of his laughter was penetrating though hard and
cold as ice but more agonizing in nature for the very sound of that voice filled all hearts with hatred or despair. Then the fandom made ready to slay
the gondorian tracker with his Morgul knife like to the blade that wounded the ring barer on Wethertop but was stopped dead in his tracks by an arrow that
delved deep in to an Orc standing to his left side. Surprised by his good fortune the gondorian scout looked in the direction from witch the aero came
and saw a tall blond haired rider still holding a long bow and preparing to fire another feathered shaft at the barrow white. Mablung gestured to the rider
of Rohan and yelled at the top of his lungs "Get me out of hear quick" "I come from Elborom steward of Eldarian king of Gondor." The rider nodded and road
to his side smiling at him fondly. The horseman whistled and out of the corner of his eye Mablung saw a grate host dressed in green and brown all on aggressive
looking steeds and baring the symbol of the house of Eol. Mablung turned back to get one good look at the barrow white as he made ready to go. "What's
the hurry my friend" cried the captain of the horseman. "The fun has only just begun." Three orc arrows whizzed past Mablung's face almost digging in
to his right cheek. He saw the barrow white slaying dozens of riders with his Morgul knife while blocking arrows with the broad blade of his scimitar.
Now was not the time to kill the spirit from Angmar. He had only one shot of escaping his deadly foe and by Iluvitar he was going to take it. After a short
pause Mablung said to the horseman "I must get to Dun harrow at once." “I have messages from the lord of Ithillian concerning the enemy Morgoth witch
might change the course of the war." "I can not stay to be slain or captured for if the enemy found me hear he would hasten his assault on Minas Anor."
"You mean Minas Tirith now for the city is besieged and its people are hard beset" the rider added like most of the soldiers who heard the white's city's
name. "I am Keol and am third marshal of Ridermark my lord" the horseman declared. "As a faithful servant of y lord Elfwine I must allow to go and what
is more I shale provide and escort to follow you." "Stealth is now impossible for the enemy has planned a last final attack on Dun harrow." "The armies
from the north are all converging hear to meet and plan for to nights battle." "It seems you have simply stumbled in to there meeting place and attracted
the attention of the wraith or what ever that dark ghost may be." “beA barrow white out of the north perhaps from the old forest of the Halflings" replied
Mablung feeling rather stupid for crash landing in to the very meeting place of Morgoth's halls. Also the latest news about the enemy's latest assault
on Dun harrow was disturbing. Had the dark lord learned of his journey threw Rohan delivering information to Elfwine. Did Morgoth know that he was carrying
his plans to Elfwine. Only time could tell. He thought he had been careful on his road but the more he thought about it the more suspicious it seemed to
him that he didn't see any Orcs up close and in his face. If Mablung had looked closer to the east towards the shadow as he traveled he might have seen
an old man hooded and cloaked the leader of the eastern army headed to the lands of Gondor under the supreme command of Morgoth. Yet whether or not the
wizard made out that the lone rider was Gondorian or not is altogether unknown. All the scout of Ithillian knew know was that he needed to get to Elfwine
at the maximum speed his horse Turgon could muster. The two guards that Keol had promised soon came and although there mounts grew more afraid every step
of the way they met no Orcs or wild men. They had all gone to the meeting at the deserted village at Westfold but now they also were preoccupied with facing
off a new force sent by Elfwine to buy his soldiers at Dun harrow enough time to arm for battle that night. Apparently Keol and his men had occupied the
Hornburg in Helmsdeep and had long awaited there lord's orders to ride forth and destroy the Orcs headed to Dun harrow so that when they received the order
they where already to leave the protection of the Hornburg and ride in to enemy territory. The entire military might of Rohan had been clustered in Dun
harrow but the force of Keol would act as a force that could act either as the vanguard or the reinforcing unit to relieve the defenders if they were pressed
by a much larger force witch was more then likely. Sure the best riders of the Mark were assembled in one place but there was no telling how large the
army of Morgoth truly was. Mablung and the riders of Elfwine could only hope that they could pull off another Helmsdeep victory with more men aggenst more
Orcs and no mystical Thangorn forest to save them. Roomer persisted that Arahad and a unit of gondorian mounted men had claimed Isengard for the king Eldarian
after it had been retaken by the Orcs. Elfwine could hope that they might send a relief force if they had a chance. But no message had been sent do to
the orcs that lay across the lands of the mark and the tower of Orthanc might have been retaken by the enemy. In a few hours Mablung saw the mountains
previously haunted by the dead men that Isildur cursed and where set free again by Elessar as well as the statues of the Pugle men and the main fortress
of Dun harrow. Its walls dark aggenst the dying rays of the setting sun. He and his companions did not stop for dinner at the battlements and pressed on
until they reached the gate. Forged of ornate iron it rose as high as stone giants and hill trolls and at its head stood a troop of footman armed to the
teeth in silver and golden armor baring the symbol of the horse of Eol riding on a green field. Long had that gate withstood the foes of the mark and Minas
Tirith before the war of the ring but now could withstand the wizardry of Morgoth. The gats of Gondor clearly had not when the witch king cast down the
iron bars with the battering ram grond. Minas Tirith nearly fell save for the intervention of Théoden and Gandalf who barely kept the lord of Angmar out
of Denathor's city. The scout of Ithillian did not wish to be in another battle for his life. Elborom asked him to deliver his message but not fight for
him. Yet how could he back out now. Enemies where at his heels and for all he knew this would be his final struggle aggenst Morgoth. Mablung wished to
see Aranoth and Morwin most of all. How where they doing and where they alright. Had Morgoth sent another force to crush Ithillian as well. But then Mablung
remembered his lords words. Elborom said that if Rohan fell the dark lord would assail Ithillian or what lands he still held aggenst the Orcs. He had to
stay. He had to defend his family. Inside the citadel there was a long hall that wound deep in to the fortress branching out in to antechambers full of
soldiers. The civilians had to be far bellow safe in wide rooms full of food or in caves but the enemy as well as Mablung had never heard of caves at Dun
harrow. The glittering caves still manned by Gilmli's folk where now the hive of activity for the dwarves of the Hornburg. But Durin king of that people
could not send any men for he was charged by the lord of the mark to act as a buffer if Orcs came to Helmsdeep. How a man convinced a dwarf to follow orders
Mablung could not tell. At last he came to a wide room tiled and carpeted in places a temporary throne room for a king of Rohan. In the midst of that hall
was a high backed chair made in the likeness of the throne of Meduseld witch was now in the hands of Morgoth. In that seat sat a tall impressive looking
lord with long blond hair and bright blue eyes more blue then Mablung's. ON his head lay a circlet with a white gem like the Elendilmir of Gondor and
on his lap hung from a belt lay a sword with a golden hilt lined with several lines of runes in the tongue of the mark and in elvish. The two guards flanking
Mablung bowed low and the scout of Ithillian did likewise. The three men then rose and waited for the king to speak first. Elfwine's penetrating glance
first landed on his own men and then on Mablung and since the king was still silent the advisor and tracker of Elborom introduced himself. "O grate lord
king Elfwine I am Mablung of the house that stands in Ithillian ruled by Elborom steward of Eldarian king of Gondor and Anor." Then before the court of
the king and with out shame or concern he told Elfwine his tale and his master's message, how the dark lord was a wizard, how barrow whites as terrifying
as the Nazgul walked beneath the sun, and that another Estary was bringing men westward. "Gondor" Mablung went on "is all that is left of Eldarian's kingdom
set together by Elessar." "The northern realm of Anor is now in the hands of Orcs and trolls as you well know and the steward can't advise the king if
our lord Eldarian is besieged by Morgoth the dark lord and enemy of the free peoples of Middle Earth." "After this battle is over I suggest that you ride
for Minas Anor Minas Tirith city of Guard always on Guard cage to her own king and rescue its people and lord by driving the enemy in to Anduin on the
fields of the Pelenor as Théoden did before." He didn't know why he was adding this last part about asking Elfwine to aid Eldarian but he felt that it
was his duty to do so on behalf of Elborom who would have done so anyway. Mablung knew that the king of Rohan had long hoped to relieve Gondor and fulfill
the oath of Eol once again but had been hindered by the attacks of the orcs. "I know that your people have suffered much from the war" he continued hoping
to press his point further. "I also know that your soldiers will be even more tired after this struggle but if you are to ever relieve Eldarian of his
enemies it is now." "Only with the combined armies of the king of Gondor and your own can you hope for absolute victory." Mablung was shocked by his own
tenacity and was now also very worried that the king would refuse. There was no surety of anyone's decisions in those days when even the most trust worthy
person reared that his friends would betray him. Could Elfwine scorn the oath of Eol and turn his back on Eldarian? The answer the tracker wished for came
loud and clear sooner then Mablung had expected. "If I survive to night I will ride fore Gondor at once giving only one day for my men to rest." Elfwine
rose and he seemed to rise almost to have grown to giant size as he cried out "by this day tomorrow the Eolingas will have armed themselves for war once
again." "The enemy is at our heels but what does that matter?" The king's eyes blazed with the blood lust of his ancestors and he unsheathed his sword
and continued by shouting "if we stay our stroke then we fall and the way ahead seems only vaguely brighter but I will take the path that need chooses
and ride soon to glory or death if that is how fate decrees my end." "My friends" Elfwine added staring hard at his men who now cheered and shouted together
in there own strange tongue a war cry "arm yourselves for to night we shale overshadow even Théoden's miracle." And with those closing words Mablung swayed
the councils of the wise to action and inspired the soldiers of Rohan all at once. He knew not what would follow after but at the very least he knew that
if he died he would fall having completed his last command. Morwin and Aranoth would be proud. Someone tossed him a heavy shirt of chain male witch he
flung over his shoulders and chose a helm from a pile of armor in the armory. Girded at his side was his ancestral blade made to look like Anduril as well
as a short dagger witch the king himself had given to him. Elfwine was in a celebratory mood and enjoyed showing his gilded coat of male to his comrades.
Although it looked impressive to say the least Mablung couldn't help but feeling that it made him the perfect target. Ranks of men flooded out the gate
for the last time manning the walls or surrounding the gate where the old garrison had once stood. Horns where sounded then that hadn't been heard in that
valley for over a decade and every man was given his orders by his commanding officer or general. Mablung was placed with the king Elfwine far behind the
front lines on a battlement looking down at the gate below. In the short time Elfwine got to know the scout he learned to truly enjoy his company. The
two soldiers laughed together recounting past experiences in the army. The king of the mark was much like Eomir and Théoden melded together wise but also
hungry for action in the field. He wished he could ride out with his men facing the darts and pikes of the enemy has he had done long before with his father
in battles with Elessar's son who he was fast friends with but as a king he had a duty to his people to stay alive witch he resented. But he was a noble
king with only the best intentions for his people and his name is remembered in many a song still sung in Rohan. From atop the fortress Mablung could see
appearing out of the gloom in the moon light the Orcs baring torches. There had to be over twenty thousand there mustered and all of them where not small
and squat but tall Urucs like those who once dwelt in Isengard. No message had come from Keol and that was an ill omen. If he returned it might be too
late. As soon as the vial creatures where in bow shot the archers on the walls and near the gate fired a volley of arrows that burst in to the ranks of
the foe but the goblins continued to march forward. Some crumpled to the ground crying out in there harsh form of speech but when ever a gap was made it
was plugged by reserves of smaller but more wicked looking Goblins. At the head of the enemy was one black horseman eyes scarlet face masked and shield
taller then any Elfwine had ever seen. The king asked Mablung "Is that the barrow white you spoke of." "He looks very much like the witch king save for
the armor he wares." "Do you see his helm in the likeness of a skull?" "How hideous." All the tracker could do was nod solemnly. He had hoped that the
barrow white would not follow the army to Dun harrow but apparently the dark lord wished Rohan to fall swiftly so he could move on to Gondor and focus
his energy on slaying King Eldarian. The archers tried to shoot down the armored horseman but there feathered shafts only bounced of his shield falling
intact to the ground. The goblins actual began to laugh and so did the barrow white after a while. All the men stood transfixed horrified listening to
that unearthly noise feeling fear overtake them. "Fight you fools" screamed Elfwine to his quavering men. "For the mark for your families come on." "If
you can't shoot him down slay him with your swords." "Do something" To all appearances Elfwine was not touched by the ghost's wicked laughter but Mablung
knew deep down inside the king felt the same pain and hopelessness grow sickly in to coward is. The shadowy horseman rained his steed and lifted up his
hand in token of parley. From his helm rang a voice remote but equally as perilous and not even the scout Mablung could have prepared himself for the excruciating
sound of it. The glow of the figure's eyes now so far away seemed to bore in to every man on the field and all looked away shamed and petrified as the
voice snarled "Come out skulking king and meet me in open combat." "Could it be that the brave lord Elfwine is craven?" "Where you hiding?" The fiery gaze
remote and terrible as the voice intensified to focus on the features of the riders on the ground. Some men fell down screaming as though ran threw by
knives or battered by clubs other's shouted that they where burning all though no fire could be seen on them. Seeing the distress of his soldiers under
the gaze of those two lidless eyes Elfwine finally screamed "I am hear O master of thralls." "Why do you slay men with stares and not swords." I "Could
it be that a warrior like you has lost the will to draw his blade?" "Are you too proud to bare arms aggenst men?" "I would of thought that Morgoth would
have better slaves to through at us this lovely evening." The defiance of the lord of the mark enraged the dark lord's rider to the point where he simply
locked eyes with the king on the battlements high atop the fortress where Elfwine stood erect unbowed by fear or reluctance his golden hair flying in a
warm breeze that came from the west. All the horseman of Rohan cheered and smashed sword and aggenst shield seeing that the death stare of the enemy had
no affect on there lord. The fire in the Barrow white's eyes appeared to die bout the shadow seemed to grow. For a moment it seemed as though the enemy
would depart and leave the battle to the orcs but after the cheers died down the shadow's hesitation passed and the red eyes of wrath blazed forth again
n flickering like a candle with furry. "What of my challenge coward?" At the sound of that voice again some of the most resolute faces turned deathly white
and grew slowly in to contorted expressions of hatred and contempt. "I shale come down and fight you hand to hand alone" declared the king in a calm finalized
monotone that revealed a calculating mind at some state of unease seeing a foe thrice grater but not daring to refuse such a claim. Mablung felt like arguing
with Elfwine asking him to beware but the king simply commanded him to stay and notch an arrow on a bow and aim it at the enemy still mounted on his black
steed while tossing the scout a long wooden bow. Elfwine repeated this order to his bowmen on the walls stating bluntly that he did not know whether the
foe would ambush him when he left the safety of the walls but that was not the case as you will see. The shadow needed no other weapon then fear to subdue
the heartiest of men at arms. Elfwine descended a long flight of rickety old stares all the while hearing the cries of the wicked orcs and checked his
belt for addiscional weapons besides his sword gleaming in the fire light. He had one long knife and beside that a short sword. That would be enough. As
the king turned a corner at a rapid pace he saw his reflection in a large mirror and stared back at himself admiringly and left still grinning madly. Mablung
could the helmeted head of the king far below shining in the torch light of the goblins. The gilded male he wore shown like the brilliant rays of a setting
sun and his shield blazed forth baring the galloping horse the symbol of Rohan's courage and horsemanship threw the long years of its standing. Could the
lands of the mark fall in to enemy hands to night permanently. The fate of Rohan hung in the balance and it was up to Elfwine son of Eomir to drive out
the foe that desecrated his people's holy soil with fire, death, and the blood of innocent thousands in towns all over they green fields under the leadership
of the king of the golden hall. But Elfwine had been driven from the hall of Meduseld and his riders supossed to protect the civilians where petrified
with fear or helplessly enraged at the shadow that stood before the gate of Dun harrow there last Bastian of hope for a dying country almost completely
in enemy hands. The arm of Morgoth like Sauron was long very long but the question still remained was it long enough? Could a rag tag bunch of horseman
beat back thousands of born warriors? Could one man defeat the emissary of the shadow in its potency? The battle before the gates of Dun harrow would determine
just that. The evocative dark form of the spectoral rider dismounted his steed and with drew his pale sword curved as Mablung had seen it earlier and at
the shadow's belt still hung that Morgul knife. With one quick gesture from there captain the orcs stepped back several paces and dug there blades in
to the ground before there feet showing the hilts of there blades to there foes. For the first time in Middle Earth's long history since the fall of Angband
the goblins had agreed to follow the rules of war. They would stand as men often do at a tournament watching two champions face off bravely or foolishly
aggenst one another. In response the riders of the mark of foot did likewise but the bowmen of Rohan still aimed there arrows at the adversary sword unsheathed
and at the ready staring evilly at there king. Elfwine withdrew his own sword and continued to smile as the enemy made the first blow. The curved scimitar
smashed in to the blade of the king with so much force that Elfwine was throne of balance but the king soon regained his footing and began to thrust and
Perry at almost lightning his shining blade glimmering like a fire brand under the gaze of those two glowing red eyes. The dark lord's servant blocked
each thrust of the king and rapidly threw a few blows at the lord of Rohan himself also missing or thwarted by the swordsmanship of his foe. Then Elfwine
tried to cut down at the specter's legs but the shadow foe blocked that strike and drew out his Morgul knife with the other hand. The blade of the knife
smote the shield of the king and the shield broke asunder leaving the knife still intact. He hand that held the sword then cut upward attempting to slice
Elfwine's head clean off with only one stroke but the rider of Rohan ducked and avoided a thrust from the knife. Then the king drew out his short sword
in his left hand and fought the knife and the scimitar both at once. How the shadow blocked every strike of the lord Elfwine no man watching the duel could
say. Such a contest between light and dark was parallel to Finnegan's duel with Gothmog lord of Balrogs or Fingalfin's last stand aggenst Melcor in the
first age. Yet in both those trials the elf lords Fingalfin and Fingan had perished. Would thee lord of the Mark meet a similar fate? The sounds of there
blades was a kin to the smashing of Grond the battering ram of Mordor aggenst the gates of Minas Tirith before the horns of Théoden where heard on the
Pelenor fields where the forces of Sauron met death swiftly under horseman's galloping hoofs. Neither warrior seemed to waver or miss a single stroke that
might have left there opponent lying stricken hopelessly upon the bloody field. Only courage in the face of impossible odds could win the fight for the
forces of light and Elfwine had shone just that by blocking the sly under cuts and overt faint attacks of Morgoth's servant but now the war king was growing
tired while the power of the shadow had only grown to new furry melded with skill. Those who saw the duel closer then Mablung noticed sweat drenching the
lord Elfwine's face and the king's reflexes slowing down steadily as the black form of the dismounted foe pressed his assault. Soon the king of the Mark's
sword was knocked clean out of his hands and he was forced to fight off both the knife and the scimitar with his short sword and that knife smaller then
the Morgul blade witch simply bounced off the armor of the enemy. Soon now all would be lost if the king didn't regain his strength or make one final desperate
move to slay the shadow once and for all. Elfwine struck boldly at the foe that confidently blocked all his thrusts and managed to hit the specter's lower
chest but the armor the blade should have cut cleanly threw was averted. No weapon of mortal make could have slain that enemy if it had not been forged
by either the numonorians or there more ancient ancestors. Elfwine's knife and swords had been made not by the craft of wizards, elves, dwarves, or even
ancient mortal folk of the ages long gone but a modern elegant tool designed by the smiths of Gondor after Elessar's death just before Orcs invaded his
lands. The blade was no more powerful then the swords men carry in to battles now baring no runes of power and lacking any magical qualities of any sort.
Yet for some odd reason the king of the mark felt that the dagger of the enemy especially had to be of some higher power perhaps created or made with the
assistance of the Nazgul long ago. The devises of Sauron had been indeed grate compared to the works of lesser men. All I have do to Elfwine thought is
to get a hold of that dagger some how. Yet how could he make the specter accidentally drop it? Then a strange idea materialized in the brave king's mind
as though it came not from him but from another looking far off but truly concerned for his fate. He barely blocked a strike intended to finish him off
for good aimed at his head by the Barrow White and fainted a blow with his small knife at the enemy's leg throwing the foe of balance. In that brief instant
the king tripped the specter forcing the enemy to fall flat on his back with out a cry of alarm. The red eyes where no longer looking directly at him but
somewhere far off behind Elfwine. The lord of the mark stooped and yanked hard at the hilt of the knife still in the enemy's hand while placing a foot
on the foe's neck. Only then did the king Elfwine turn to see what the shadow was so interested about. There some what right of the gate on the green plain
beyond was a mighty host of mounted men flying two standards. One banner displayed a galloping horse and a rider sitting upon it eager for battle and the
other flag bore the white tree of Gondor and the crown of Elendil as well as seven stars. Surprised and a little amused Elfwine realized that Keol had
arrived with Arahad's gondorian forces out of Isengard. How the two forces met on the green grassy plains of the mark at the same time and both hoping
to relieve the forces at Dun harrow remained a mystery. Later Keol would explain to his lord that he was riding to Dun harrow with the assistance he promised
when he saw a company of horseman baring the banner of Eldarian headed in the same direction. Apparently Isengard had been at last taken by the Orcs at
night and learning that Elfwine needed men at Dun harrow Arahad had set forth at once hoping to arrive in time to save the riders of the Mark from being
slain. It was on the second day of there journey when they met Keol wishing to return to Dun harrow for the same reasons. As Elfwine heard the horns of
the combined forces of Keol and Arahad he lunged to slay the shadow with his own blade but was knocked over by an Orc that had ran frightfully over friend
and foe in an attempt to escape. The dagger slipped out of the king's grasp and flew in to another goblin still watching the duel with an expression of
horror still etched on his face. Then Elfwine tried to grab the shadow's scimitar but in the process removed his firm foot on the neck of the enemy who
soon rose and darted aside. Screaming with blood lust once again and rage Elfwine attempted to run after the foe that had caused him so much distress only
to sea the Barrow White mount his horse and ride swiftly away fading in to the distance. When the enemy was gone the shadow of night passed and the warm
rays of the sun blazed forth in brighter then any that has ever since blessed Middle earth. a new dawn. Elfwine king of Rohan had defeated his advisory
in hand to hand combat but his foe had escaped. Next time he vowed it would be different. Mablung watched the progress of his fellow Gondorians and the
riders of Keol from a top the fortress where Elfwine had left him. He had seen the king win the duel but not slay the Barrow White hesitating to look back
and watch as his sworn enemy road unharmed from the field of battle. Since then the orcs that stood before the gate had been surrounded and where now being
slain. Among them where men as well who had acted as the rear guard of Morgoth's army. They where Dunlendings ancient foes of the horse lords of the Mark
who's fathers fought aggenst the king Théoden and Elessar at Helmsdeep long ago. Despite the fact that there fathers had sworn oaths never to assail the
lords of Rohan or the lands under the protection of Gondor or Anor they had sworn no oaths of that sort and felt inclined to take vengeance on the enemies
of there ancestors. It has been told in Minas Anor that in under thirty minutes in a half an hour the armies of Morgoth at the battle of Dun harrow where
all slain. Goblins quailed and fought on until they where pierced with arrows and the cruel Dunlendings asked for no quarter but because they where caught
in a narrow place between the fortress and the relief armies the forces of the enemy where completely and absolutely doomed. The Orcs and men could not
counter attack as one fighting unit. They merely could defend themselves as small companies squished together where they were clear targets for the archers
on foot and on the walls of the citadel. By the end of the fighting the scout of Gondor Mablung could see a literal mountain of rotting corpses still covered
in enemy darts and arrows. The day was won and the northern army that was sent out of Angmar was destroyed save for the garrison stationed at Isengard
witch Arahad soon drove all the way back north where he contested the might of Angmar at Anumenas witch had been deserted by the enemy Morgoth since it
had already been plundered. How that band of desperate men lived as outlaws in the lands where the enemy's was strongest I and other historians can't say
but there courage has never been forgotten and I'm afraid that it does not appear in this tale. All I can tell you is that when a relief army came back
to Anumenas to aid the soldiers of Arahad almost all the orcs had been driven back in to the mountains and the old fortress at Angmar was overthrown. Dol
Guldor remained a threat for years after this conflict was over but slowly the Goblins left that land and left to live in the mountains where they died
out. All the soldiers who fought with the Roherrim that fateful night and following day at Dun harrow rested until all felt ready to prepare for there
assault on the orcs besieging Minas Tirith. Almost every one had been wounded and even the king was scratched and battered but Elfwine was determent to
follow Mablung's council. The scout and advisor of Elborom begged the king to send errand riders to his lord asking for reinforcements and Elfwine agreed
and sent Keol along with ten others of his house to go and inform Faramir's son of there victory over Morgoth at Dun harrow and to receive reinforcements
if practicable. In the meantime Mablung felt that he had to help advise the king and to help him muster his forces who had chased down the orcs of Isengard
the previous night. Yet as time wore on Elfwine noticed that his men were in no condition to ride for Gondor so he went to Mablung asking for some council
on how they should address that problem. At last they both determined that one more day's rest would allow for the riders to prepare themselves and perhaps
put together a battle plan that would help the Roherrim and Elboron's armies to swiftly assail the armies of Morgoth on the fields of the Pelenor and
potentially destroy them. The king of the mark knew that even then the fords of Eldarian and his own would have to plan another assault aggenst the eastern
army moving westward and the sorcerer leading that massive host. Only time would tell whether the forces of the lords of the west could beat back the next
assault and relieve Eldarian of his enemies before news of the battle of Dun harrow reached the ears of Morgoth. It was apparent to Mablung that since
the armies out of Mordor where grater then the disorganized orcs from the north that the new dark lord Morgoth was dwelling in the foundations of the tower
of Barad Dur far under the dusty soil of the black land. Perhaps the dark tower was already being rebuilt by the slaves of the dark lord slowly but surely
constructing a stronghold more suitable for a overlord of Middle Earth. Little did he know that his worst fears where already becoming a reality.

Chapter Three

On the day on witch the hosts of Elboron where to set out with Elfwine Keol and his riders had not returned with the new steward or his soldiers. By late
afternoon the horseman of Rohan stared bitterly at the blank field before them angrily wondering whether Elboron had betrayed them and fortified his own
comfortable home against Morgoth or whether Keol had stupidly stumbled in to a squadron of Orcs from the battle or Eastern raiders plundering the countryside
before returning back to there hosts armed perhaps not so far away awaiting the signal to march on Eldarian's people with renewed force. The soldiers of
Elfwine became so distressed that they wondered whether they should wait another day or ride on to the city of guard at once leaving any stragglers to
follow at there heels like a disobedient mutt that needs to be broken in. Delay was perilous but a rash assault with out further assistance might be disastrous.
It was up to the captains and the all powerful determining factor of chance and the knowledge he bore that would help decide the out come of the oncoming
conflict. So he had to stay but he had not signed on to be the king's personal councilor and advisor on military policy. Yet who else had the knowledge
that he possessed? Only Elboron knew the latest policies of the enemy in full but he was far away and important while he was a mere foot soldier. Mablung
wondered weather the steward thought that he was expendable but then again he remembered that all soldiers of no grate military rank where thought of expendable
by there commanders and he was more then that. He was an advisor to the steward of Gondor as well as the messenger of news that could change the nature
of the war. Mablung was amazed to see what he had accomplished so far but the real problem that still remained was weather to set forth for Gondor and
save Eldarian quickly or to wait to muster a much larger force to challenge the overwhelming odds of Morgoth. Finally it was decided that the riders of
the mark should wait for one hour and then set forth for Gondor at once when a guard screamed that he spotted something in a urgent voice witch reveal
his own feelings on the immediacy of the situation t hand. Thinking that was Elboron Elfwine kicked his horse to a faster trot until he was sitting on
his mount along side the look out. "How many Gondorian footman and Calvary" cried out the king utterly left dazed with pure excitement? The scout of the
Mark lowering his telescope slowly uttered "there not friends and they are moving south" in a voice hardly audible even to the king. Elfwine snatched the
telescope and gazed hard at the miniscule figures that appeared dressed in armor made of some thin straw like material but seemingly harder and less bendable.
In the soldiers hands where all curved blades and there eyes where both squinted and angled differently then the men of the West. Since the other horseman
still stood transfixed hopefully staring calmly alt a mere shadow in there own grassy fields Elfwine felt inclined to break the bad news first and save
the look out the embarrassment. "You're looking at Easternlings" he yelled so that all who stood near could hear him. "I did not see any captain among
or wizard but a great press of marching men." "Morgoth knows of our victory hear and has probably assailed Ithillian with the Easternlings to warm them
up fore battle." "The entire eastern military force is headed to Gondor and by the time we reach the city Eldarian will be neck deep in his own blood."
"Our little spectral friend witch I almost slew last night has likely informed the wizard in the East of the north's army's defeat and in turn messengers
went to the dark lord in Lugburs as the orcs would have called it . . . Mordor." The very name of the black land froze Mablung's heart and he now knew
that his wife and son where probably dead. Elboron had failed. He did not defend them as he had promised but was worse was that he had helped bring there
deaths about in a way. The dark lord would not have attacked Ithillian if he had not gone to Rohan and helped spur a victory at Dun harrow. I should have
fought with Elfwine and slew the black horseman the Barrow White my self he thought miserably. But there was still vengeance. The murderers of his family
and kin would likely be at the battle before the gates of Gondor and by Iluvitar he was going to slay them all if he could with his own blade. With a sudden
pang of surprise Mablung felt hot tears falling down his red cheeks and realized that every soldier was looking at him including the king of the Mark an
expression of comfort and concern etched across his face. At last the messenger of Ithillian said in a voice more fearrece then
was originally intended "Morgoth shall feel my vengeance and if he be not deathless I shall at the very least put him to justice." "Ithillian is probably
wiped off the face of the earth and if that is indeed so then so are my wife and child." Struck with pity and understanding Elfwine said aloud so that
all could hear him "See the shadow of Morgoth has done?" "Fore all that I hold deer on this Middle Earth I would trade my life rather then see other lands
like Ithillian fall." "Ride now" the king screamed furiously unsheathing his sword looking eastward at the darkness the clouds that festered shadowing
the march of there foes. "Ride now for glory, death, and vengeance." "Ride now because it is simply the moral thing we can all do." "Ride for Eldarian,
the dead of Ithillian, ride for Mablung." And with that the last host of the Roherim set out to almost certain destruction but with wrath bent on the foe
that lay far ahead. Mablung sat on Turgon beside Elfwine's who road his steed Finrad a great white horse like to snowmane steed of Théoden in more then
one respect. It glided over the soft green earth like it was solid air and from its hoofs sprayed mood and dirt behind when the ground was softest coating
the riders of the first company of the Mark in a thick suit of mud and grime. For miles the only sounds to be heard where the galloping of hoofs and the
occasional clank of armored steel plate over coat of chain male but then a voice or two began to rise up in song. Mablung could not understand the words
but it was lovely to listen two and made the journey less monotonous. After some time he asked Elfwine "What was that song about?" "It was the most amazing
tune I've ever heard tell of." Not turning his head still focused on the road ahead the king said "It is about our ancestor Eol who road to the battle
of Kelibrant to rescue the steward of Gondor Kerian who's people where hard beset by an army out of the east and a great many orcs as well." "Sounds like
what where doing now" said Mablung thoughtfully to himself. "Indeed" said the king now turning to look directly in to Mablung's eyes. "I mean to out match
even Théoden to day." "But the world has changed since those days of wonder and bliss when elves still walked the earth." "By the way" blurted Mablung
"what of the dwarves?" "Why are they not with us hear to day?" "Some one needs to stay behind and protect the lands of the mark." "Rohan needs guards to
keep her intact until I return." Elfwine then turned back to the road as though struck speechless by his burdensome task. He knew that the fate of Gondor
hung in the balance and that he had to save the city but how? The magnitude of his predicament was so intense that he felt almost wishing that he had been
given a kingdom independent from the house of the kings of Gondor and Anor. But there was now time for that now. Sure Eldarian needed help but how come
it always had to be the Roherrim to bale the white city out of problems and rarely the other way around. But there was no time for scorn either. A long
and perilous road swarming with foes lay ahead and only determination untouched by resentment could see it threw. The miles passed by pretty much like
to the last couple save for the scenery that often changed from green to black jagged cliffs and mountains but that was nothing of interest to either
Mablung or the riders who had been on many such journeys before in there youth. All that road with Elfwine had seen battle had seen friends and loved ones
die around them. There shields though polished bore crests who's painted colors had long since faded and there helms where dented and scored by thousands
of commemorative scratches recalling a deadly blow only just missed. These marks of war where so common that the armory was often unable to repair them
all. The smiths of Rohan or the dwarves of the glittering caves where far to busy supplying knew weapons to troops who had none or replacing full pieces
of armor witch had been lost in battle not repairing a few harmless marks on a shield to make it look pretty even if it was of great importance. The days
where darker then the former and the only immaculate suit of armor and weaponry was worn and wielded by the king. His coat of male and war helm where always
attended to although he begged the smiths to worry about the war and not making his iron and steel armor and blades look good. Every man there would have
done any thing for there king. To day there is little loyalty. Such a display of greater authority would cause a rebellion at once but men where wiser
kinder then. They looked to there lord for encouragement and support and in return they earned there king's love and honor. The long ride in to the south
continued with out hindrance until the company reached a path that ran across the main road to Minas Tirith. Along it where placed sharpened wooden poles
acting as crude barrier and before them could be seen ditches filled with rocks. The entire host of Elfwine was forced to dismount and walk the horses
around the obstacles in order to continue on there way with out mishap. Now on either side could be seen burnt towns or wooden fortresses crumbling away
all left to the ravenous wargs and orcs. Mablung couldn't help but wondering whether the north kingdom of Anor reestablished by Elessar had met a similar
fate. Little did he know that at that very hour far away Arahad and an army of Dunidain rangers where marching on Angmar with great press of men to prevent
further destruction to the quiet lands of the shire or Bree. Yet that news never reached Elfwine during the height of the war and for all he knew all
was going in the enemy's favor in the north and south. The victory at Dun Harrow had done much for the lords of the west but it had only enraged Morgoth
in to centralizing his power for one final push. The darkness was breaking faster then the lord of Mordor had intended it to but nevertheless all was going
according to his calculated plans. Elfwine was sure that it wouldn't be long before the white city of Gondor fell. Osgiliath and its royal seat had not
been merely occupied but destroyed. Its stone buildings compacted in to mounds of broken shards and dust. If the Roherrim where not victorious the city
of Minas Tirith would meet a similar fate. Far ahead now the sky was at variance. From the east all was blacker then the eves of Mirkwood more impenetrably
black then the caverns of the goblins in the misty mountains but from the west the light of the sun still brilliantly bright in he awesome glory shone
down on the riders and glimmered on the gilded coat of male of Elfwine king of the Mark reflecting for an instant the bliss of Valenor and the memory of
the two trees witch once gave the earth its light. In that precious glimpse of dazzling hope the riders of Rohan unsheathed there swords as one lifting
them to the heavens and shouted the words of Hurin before he was captured by the orcs of Angband. "Day shale come again." Then the king murmured to himself
"Save us please" and road headlong with the Roherrim deeper in to the shadow from witch many tales have sprung. The clouds cut of the fading light of the
sun and there only remained a glimmer far behind but the minds of the riders where now shaken from fear and doubt and set resolutely on the task that had
to be accomplished. Mablung thought he saw a shadow deeper then the twilight but did not mention it to the king. It was far far to the east and it seemed
to lag slightly behind and only moved at a gradual pace. After an hour and a half had passed and the shadow had only lengthened he informed Elfwine of
the strange darkness festering menacingly along there right flank. In response the king agitatedly called his look out to the head of the column of riders
and snatched from his hands the small telescope that he had looked threw before with out a word. With a jolt the king tensed up and handed the spy glass
to Mablung and threw the lens he saw the eastern army but this time supported by goblin guides and foot soldiers. With them also stood gigantic Mumakil
there tusks holding siege engines and trunks tattooed with black speech inscriptions of ruin and death. Putting down the telescope Mablung realized that
the enemy try to cut of there attack on the city and perhaps Elfwine felt the same way for he ordered the riders too spread out along the dirt road so
that they would be less visible to the foe but whether the king pondered whether they might be either flanked, ambushed, or simply attacked is not certain.
Then the Gondorian advisor and scout noticed some thing else that didn't feel right. The path was not riddled with any more obstacles despite the fact
that where taking the main path to the white c city. Where the orcs that careless? No something simply wasn't right in the least bit. Then Mablung's fears
where vividly realized as a small shard of the shadow out of the inky blackness broke off and headed straight in there direction. If he didn't know better
Mablung could have sworn that he saw a glint of red light from the head of the moving blur perhaps another spectral rider or something much worse. "Should
we ride on or stop to fight" he said to Elfwine trying to sound some what calm. "Ride hard and pray there horses are not faster" the king cried out giving
orders to his men to ride as fast as was possible to escape the adversary. As the moving blur began to grow larger a few vague shapes could barely be seen.
Three horseman with bright helms that flickered with a painful sharp brilliant radiance lead the swarm of humanoid figures almost ghost like reflections
towards the knights of Elfwine. The king looked grave and deadly serious. He saw that he could hardly reach his fighting knives in the saddle so he moved
them to his belt in one swift movement. The gloom seemed only to grow and not evaporate in to blissful light. Yet the blackness was not emptiness but a
thing itself independent of the darkness of night for it was ingrained in unfathomable malaise more poignant then even the shadow that crept on the land
at the battle of the Pelenor that took place in the war of the ring. The riders had not felt it before because the intensity of that gloom seemed to grow
stronger with every mile. The eye of Morgoth was on them . . . and there was no escaping his vigilance. The bitterness of that last truth overwhelmed Mablung
like a slap on the face from his own beloved father. How could the week and the ignorant withhold evil with out being utterly destroyed or beaten down
in to nothing but ashes and dust? Now there was no escaping the host that followed them. They where already gaining o n Elfwine's men and curving
around to block there path to the city of Minas Tirith. As the horseman and other soldiers on chariots drew closer all recognized that where all indeed
foes. At there head where two barrow whites helmed and armed but in the middle of them road another figure more kingly and terrible. His face was not visored
and was bearded with dark hair perhaps brown or black witch Elfwine could not tell. In his eyes burned a light keener and more focused then his servants
flanking him but equally as evil and instead of a staff that Gandalf would have bore he carried a long curved sword as powerful as any magician's rod of
magic and perhaps more powerful still. Runic inscriptions where engraved upon the blade and hilt but besides these markings the sword was very plain baring
no gems or bestial carvings of griffins or serpents witch one might expect. He did not smile with blood lust or sadistic pleasure to see his enemies in
distress but with pure determination and on his lips where words long prepared but unheard in the sound of his host's galloping steeds. Dread seized most
of the riders of the mark but there captain was just as determined as his foe. Elfwine cried out in a voice more adamant then the foundations of Arda itself
"Who hinders the lords of the Mark in there efforts to relieve Eldarian king of Gondor and Anor." As the two armies halted a voice ancient but no less
evil sounding said "Anor is in ashes and your precious little king is in the hands of his enemies." The old man looked pleased with himself but did not
smile or grin in the fashion the servants of Sauron always reproached there master's foes. "You lie" retorted the king of Rohan sounding thrice as majestic
and refined as his counter part. "Do I" asked the enemy mockingly. "Are you the captain of Morgoth or his equal" sneered Mablung disgusted by the dark
lord's puppet. This insult was too much to bear fore the wizard. His face turned red and hands redder. He looked as though he was going to argue but kept
his moth clenched shut. At last the old man turned to his generals the two Barrow whites and gave them an order in the speech of one of the orc clans virtually
unintelligible to us civilized folk and watched as his army formed a circle around the force of Elfwine. The king was obviously worried but seemed to all
respects defiant. With one word the wizard could have the entire host of the riders of Rohan laying either dead or destroyed or hopelessly scattered. Each
rider notched an arrow to his bow knowing all the while that it would likely never find another target ever again. It seemed to Elfwine that almost every
arrow was not pointed at the orcs but the old man or wizard sitting atop his black steed. For the first time many of the horseman of the mark noticed the
silver plated helm of there foe engraved with many symbols and runic carvings to worn to read in the twilight of that ungodly shadow but all could plainly
see the insignia of the red eye of Sauron still scarlet and ominously untouched by the ravages of time despite the fact that helm was clearly much older
then the war of the ring. None of the historians in Minas Anor are now sure but it was believed at the time that that wizard had once been in league with
Sauron but that is now doubtful considering that the sorcerer did not appear in the first battle of the Pelenor fields where he would have been most needed.
Yet if he was not in league with Sauron why did he where a helm baring the former dark lord's chief symbol? Some now believe that that helm was worn by
the mouth of Sauron and was treasured by the black numonorians for over a hundred years before it was given to the wizard by Morgoth for some grate service.
But if these assumptions are simply dead wrong I myself wouldn't be surprised. Who can fathom the might or cunning of the enemy who locks himself in a
protective fortress of lies, half truths, and rumors? Who among the living allies of the light has traveled in to the very depths of Barad Dur's foundations
and has seen the shadow's hidden war machines yet unmade or his devil's art in all its glory? The answer is as plain as the unwritten page and as complex
as the words that might follow after. Only the wise can guess but they have passed far over the seas never to return until the end of days or perhaps not
even then. Who can tell? Not I surely. But the story of the Sororsor's war can be told in its much abbreviated form as I have am now doing for the future
generations of this land to fully study and relate to so that they too can face the hardships of life as confidently as the greatest warriors like Elfwine
or Mablung who come in to this tale. Yet even they you now see can be caught by the arts of the enemy and are not perfect individuals for no man can be
in this fallible world. Mablung most of all released this message looking in to the eyes of death. Despite his fighting skill or courage even the bravest
can some times meet there match. The wizard looked sharply in to the eyes of Elfwine lord of Rohan just as the Barrow White had done. Both men at first
seemed at ease despite the fact that the king was in mortal danger almost doomed to die at the hands of this dark magician's bow who stood at the ready
a firing squad bent solely on execution like a bolder rolling down a hill is bound to stop rolling at the bottom or like a wave is bound to eventually
fall no matter how large. At last the face of the king grew crimson and his eyes cloudy with tears long restrained. The pain of that duel must have been
excruciating compared to the staring match that the lord of the Barrow Whites had anniciated to don't Elfwine son of Eomir heartiest of all mortal men
save for Berrin or Turin perhaps. Even when warm drops of sweat caked his face the lord of Rohan stood firm and continued looking in to those two terrible
eyes. They where as green as a murky pool but as hard as the foundations of the mountain Mindaluin in the land of Gondor. Unlike the red glow of the gaze
of the spectral horseman on either side of the sorcerer the eyes of that magician where not magical looking in seeming until one stared directly in to
them. They transmitted despair and doubts born by the contesting individual until you where consumed with the idea that all was hopeless and that death
was the only escape from disaster. Most men who had encountered those eyes at there maximum strength noted that they seemed to slowly loose there pigment
and that the pupils grew darker and wider until they seemed like black pits who's unfathomable depths dragged all that was positive leaving only the evils
of the world. Those men normally slew themselves right afterwards but not Elfwine. He was a mortal of another kind. Perhaps the blood of his father or
ancient kin from the Elder Days had descended to him from of old or perhaps some men are simply born for the purpose of leading and encouraging while others
are made followers or supporting pillars on with the monumental burden of leadership must rest. The king of Rohan was too optimistic or more likely wiser
then most men seeing a deceit of a treacherous foe and feeling the blow of that enemy's strike but at the same time knowing the stroke was not as harsh
at it seems. Thus he held out longer then other lesser mortals until there was hardly any strength left in him but that didn't mean that he succumbed to
the black magic of that sorcerer's stare. Instead Elfwine resisted the urge to despair by investing his last strength to confront the doubts of Morgoth
with pragmatism and logic witch no being good or evil can fully discount leaving his spirit drained of power to sustain the functions of life. He fainted
still looking bitterly in to those two windows in to death and fell like an avalanche of his white steed. Disappointed by the lack of his magic the wizard
made ready to slay the riders of the Mark. Much of his native strength had drained down to a point less then the two Barrow Whites still silently flanking
his weakened body. The fact that a mere mortal had dwindled his own power was unthinkable. The king of the Mark and all his riders had to be annihilated.
A dangerous fool like Elfwine had to be slain lest such a contest happen again. His face turning a deeper scarlet then it had been under Mablung's retort
the old man lifted up his hand to give the signal when one lone figure dismounted from a horse beside the fallen king and grasped a scimitar out of one
of the spectral horseman's hands after punching the nose of the Barrow White's steed to thro the ghost of balance. It was Mablung his hair blowing in an
eastern wind, eyes fixed on the magician's face, and ancient blade of under the service of Morgoth now welded for the forces of light clenched in hand.
The blade delved deep in to the flesh of the sorcerer witch no other blade could have pierced made by lesser men of the twilight following the fall of
the north kingdom at the dawn of the Third Age. As the wizard's sword's arm came flying off orcs began shooting there bows at Mablung while Easternlings
assailed the Roherrim on foot. He ducked a few darts from tall Uruc hoping that one would dig deep in to the stunned magician's head but all the feathered
shafts just missed him either by luck or as the scout assumed by some design of the accursed enemy. The wizard's eyes where closed in thoughtful pain and
his left arm felt the stump dangling from his shoulder as though comforting the wound or feeling the blood that ran on to the damp soil below. To his surprise
Mablung saw that it was not black like the orcs but as red as his own that was now spilling out of a scratch on his forehead left by a shard from a broken
blade. At last the green eyes of the wizard opened and looked in to Mablung's but instead of holding his gaze they then looked to the Barrow Whites in
the midst of fighting almost silently begging for help or so the Gondorian scout thought walking cautiously closer again. The scimitar had been cut in
two under his armored back as he fell escaping another cleverly aimed arrow shot at his head. Holding the hilt end of the shards he charged at the wounded
wizard picturing the sorcerer's body falling to the earth like Elfwine's just had in his mind's eye. There caught and trapped the magician then reached
for his own blade and caught it in time to block Mablung's first assault. Then the scout drove the other sharper shard that had once been the blade of
the scimitar in to the wizard's white neck. Blood oozed from his hand but Mablung continued to press down on that shard sinking the curved blade in to
the delicate skin, flesh, and finally bone with a sickening crunching snap that died amidst the other noises of the monumental struggle all around him.
Then unexpectedly a grey mist began to rise from the magician's body growing steadily thicker every second. At last it rose as a mounting cloud floating
half heartedly westward but then as it was with the spirit of Saruman a wind cold as the snow of the far north blew the spirit eastward where its body
had walked for thousands of years deploring evils we may never know. Thus perished the captain of the host of Morgoth from the Far East doomed to die by
his own servant's blade and his name to be lost to all mortal men. Whether he stills roams the earth and found the spirit of his fellow Estary Saruman
still is unknown and not even the scholars of Minas Anor can tell if these unhappy ghosts shale be granted a chance for salvation or be left to fade in
to nothingness at the very end of days. Only with Iluvitar lies those more serious matters more complex and puzzling then the nature of death itself. Elfwine
still lay prone on the ground still unconscious and oblivious to the cries and screams of dying men and goblins all around. The orcs had pretty much fled
but the Easternlings continued fighting even when they saw the sorcerer fall. The Easternling strangers where no cravens but skillful warriors who's shining
blades but many riders of the Mark to shame. Soon the fight turned in there favor and some of them chanted war cries or challenges in there harsh tongues.
If they hadn't been overcome by the enemy long ago they would have been mighty foes of the dark lord but there rulers and not there subject's where corrupt
and under the sway of Sauron and now Morgoth. Mablung doubted that they loved Morgoth in there hearts but rather feared them as slaves dragged to a land
they never knew of before where tall men with bright eyes and blades baring a hatred for the servants of the dark lord slew many men under the command
of the great enemy. Being taught to serve with out pay or honor I still believe that they would have fought even better if they had been our allies among
leaders whom they could love and respect but that is only idol chatter senseless now that history has already made up its mind regarding these most excellent
but mislead soldiers. Now fighting for there lives they followed the two black horsemen in to the strongest companies of the Roherrim still withstanding
the swords and arrows of the Easternlings. The king of the Mark was slowly revived by Mablung who bore him out of the fray under a tall oak tree whose
branches spread the soft cool shade over the two boiling men who had suffered from the warm gusts of dust that rose beneath rushing steeds and running
men. To both Elfwine and the scout all already seemed lost. There forces had been caught in enemy territory far from aid where no reinforcements could
come with out traveling fore miles and miles. The scout could see not so far away the shadowy form of one of the barrow whites dismount his horse and stoop
to the ground looking at something in the mud. With horror Mablung realized that the ghost was looking fore the tracks of his shoes made as he dragged
Elfwine to safety. Sniffing like the Nazgul of old the shadow swayed back and forth missing and then regaining there sent. At last it found a clear path
to the tree and began to walk toward them both on all fours often illuminating the earth with those two hateful eyes. Elfwine was to exhausted to endure
another contest and Mablung was punch drunk and ready to fall over at any moment also they where both loosing a lot of blood. If there wounds where not
attended to soon. . The form of the Barrow White was creeping ever closer likely a dog scavenging the ground for lost crumbs of a beloved meal unwilling
to admit that it was over. At last the vial creature reached the shadows of the tall oak and was only a few yards away its eyes growing brighter and brighter
as it drew nearer to there hiding spot. There was no time to loose. It was do or die. Mablung quietly sprung to his feet leaving Elfwine behind and lifted
up his own sword and attempted to slice of the head of the spirit but it was too powerful and the iron of the blade forged by lesser men. Cursing his stupidity
he searched the bloody field fore the shards of the broken wizard's sword but didn't see them where he had dropped them. Then seeing that he was loosing
strength fast he desperately yanked at the specter's sword. The blade wouldn't budge free. At last Mablung resorted to stepping hard on the ghost's helm
while kicking the specter's back but that availed to accomplish nothing save fore self inflecting several knew bruises and scratches. All was growing darker
and darker around him and Elfwine was useless. While the barrow white screamed and yammered under his iron grip his brother heard his pleads fore aid and
came running directly at Mablung its sword clenched in a mocking gesture of respect a salute from an enemy who knew no pity. As it leapt to spring on his
defenseless back he punched the specter in the chest falling unconfterably on his side. Mablung then struggled to his feet his head aching his mind racing
hoping that his failing stamina could withstand the two mysterious shadowy dismounted demons armed with invincible weapons forged in the black land bent
on his total destruction. He was one feeble mortal on the point of sheer exhaustion facing two enemies with unlimited mystical powers and cunning equal
to the dark lord himself. The Barrow whites eyes blazing swords pointed to cut threw his quacking body began to slowly advance from either side. He could
not resist only stand doomed to meet an unpleasant end forlorn and altogether hopeless as only a dying man can be seeing no escape at the hands of his
foes. All was now lost. But suddenly the fortunes of Mablung scout of the lord of Ithillian messenger of Elboron heard the sound of a war horn not from
the east but from the north faint but all too clear. The sound of other trumpets rang in answer from the same general direction and the specters distracted
stood dead in there tracks the fire of there eyes slowly fading but no less corrupt and wicked. Behind them he could see a row of mounted gondorian soldiers
baring the emblem of the white tree and all holding all kinds of swords and blades both ancient and powerful as well as mere imitations of the craftsmanship
of old. At there head road a rider clothed in male and a long red robe ornate with the runes wove by the wife of the first steward of Gondor Mardil. Mablung
saw that on the rider's back he bore a great shield thrice the size of his companions and rained in his steed and began to reach back to lift it from his
shoulders. When he finally lifted his shield and bore it proudly a loft in his left hand the scout also noticed that it also bore the white tree but this
time it was not surrounded by the crown and seven stars but a large engraved picture of a warrior eyes set on something far of, a stone broach clasped
on his tunic, and a long beautiful blade with runes all along the blade an hilt. It was a shield baring the likeness of Aragorn son of Arathorn Elessar
lord of the Dunidain and at his feet grew the white tree witch he himself planted in the court of the kings. Mablung had never seen a shield so magnificent
and then looked up to see the rider's face. With his failing strength he recognized it. It was Elboron. At his side road Keol blond hair blowing in the
warm breeze sword shining bright in that dark and lonesome place. But they were killed with the other lords of Ithillian thought Mablung collapsing to
the ground blood drenching his garments. Seeing the mighty host of the Gondorians and Keol the two Barrow Whites fled and left there pray trembling in
the center of a ring of dead corpse's witch they had formed when they had stormed threw the army of Elfwine when the Wizard fell. It is more then likely
that they stole two steeds of the Roherrim to ride since there own black horses of burden had either fled far off or had been slain. As the scout of Ithillian
fell he thought of Morwin and Aranoth his son. They where alive. The army of the steward had set out but was blocked by the much larger force of the Easternlings.
If they had just waited and had not assumed that Ithillian had been destroyed by the invaders then perhaps they could have marched on the foe encamped
out side the white city after all. As Mablung closed his eyes he heard the foot falls of a soldier running toward him. Two heavy hands grabbed him off
the ground and placed him atop a wooden cart. As it rolled northward he felt his limp body being attended to by some one and at last new no more till he
awoke again in the hands of his beloved wife in the gardens of Ithillian. The eastern army had passed southward fore good and the Orcs besieging Minas
Tirith were consumed by there mission to destroy the city. The first assault on the armies of Morgoth to relieve Eldarian high king of the Dunidain had
failed but the commander of the Eastern army of the dark lord had fallen. Elfwine king of the Mark would have to recover and muster another army to ride
forth to Gondor but this time he would have the lord steward of the king to assist him. They had won a skirmish but had lost a precious opportunity to
save Eldarian and his subjects from the wrath of Morgoth.

Chapter Four

Elfwine woke startled dazed and disorientated. He tried to recall what had just taken place on the road to Gondor but only snatches of those past events
came back like dreams vague and abstract visions that could have been experienced by another but not quite alien to the restless mind. Then the king of
Rohan stared down at his bruised arms and bandaged hands and suddenly recalled his duel with the wizard of Morgoth's eastern army as well has his plunge
in to oblivion soon interrupted by Mablung who tended to him before he fell in to shadow once again. The soldier then stared out the window and recognized
the green rolling fields and forests of Ithillian and knew that he was in good hands strong faithful Gondorian hands but then again hadn't Elboron and
his lords been destroyed? "Am I dead?" The king's words murmured threw clenched lips hardly broke the tense silence that offered no answers. What of the
wizard too he continued to wonder puzzled and rather baffled by his lack of apparent knowledge. Why hadn't he seen the old magician after he fainted? Surely
the Old man would have slain him if he had been left undefended. Then the lord of Rohan heard footsteps coming up from behind up a high stare case. Who
could it be? Was he in the hands of cruel men who had captured Ithillian after all? After there wasn't any proof that he was in Gondorian hands and not
Easternlings. From the corner of his eye Elfwine saw a familiar form of a tall warrior dressed in green and brown robes overlaid one on top of another.
The person's face was obscured by a large hood embroidered by weavers out of the long years following the destruction of Unmoor. That was a hopeful sign
to be sure but who was this stranger. Clearly from his garments he was Gondorian but how did his soldiers find him. At last Elfwine found the courage to
speak aloud once more and this time he received an answer. "Where am I an who are you sir." The reply came in a soft gentle but firm warm voice that sounded
even more familiar then the shape of the man but who he was only was reveled when the Gondorian declared himself surprised and some what amused. "You are
in the land of Ithillian and you are in my house." "I am your friend Elboron steward of the king of the Dunidain now that my father has gone to his long
home in the West to dwell with his ancestors." "By my skill in herb lore I have tended almost all of your injuries save fore those witch it is best to
leave be." Elfwine gasped and must of looked stunned fore his fold friend had already went on talking. At last the king interrupted the steward by hurriedly
and excitedly blurting "I didn't realize that it was you until you introduced yourself" in an enthusiastic voice that hid the overwhelming pain that still
flooded his still aching skull. Instead responding verbally with some famous quote or motto of Faramir's Elboron merely smiled and nodded coolly and to
Elfwine it seemed as though he might have been quietly chuckling under his breath before continuing to tell the king of how he and his soldiers had been
cut off until the main army passed from the East and how he and the beknights of the house of Anarion rode to catch up with the riders of the Mark and at
last came in the midst of a raging skirmish bordering on becoming a full all out battle. "When we rescued Mablung from the Barrow Whites we learned from
his tracks that something heavy had been dragged to the foot of a great tree perhaps an oak where you lay still caught in a heavy unintelligible stupor."
"When Mablung awoke we then knew of your duel with the wizard and how my messenger and trusted advisor slew the vial magician with a barrow blade." "Mablung
slew the wizard" cried Elfwine looking utterly amazed and eternally grateful fore his friend's assistance with tears of joy in his eyes and mouth wide
open gaping larger then Samwise Gamgy could have after being stunned. "You did not see the contest because you had already fallen of your steed" explained
Elboron looking far off at something out the window. Elfwine wasn't sure but he guessed that there in the garden probably stood Mablung and his wife and
son witch he had heard about before the long ride in to the south when all believed Ithillian overthrown or taken by the black hand of Morgoth. "He should
be openly praised and honored by celebrations fore days and publicly knighted at the very least" persisted the king of Rohan looking even more relieved
then before. "He will receive no reword save a short time with his children before he rides again to battle" replied the steward looking solemn and some
what abashed. "I promised a higher rank in the army as a general of the knights of the royal house of Anarion second only to Eldarian's own elite fighting
guards but he refused the commission believing that it would evoke harsh feelings from the other men or so he said." "That excuse is as empty as my father's
drinking vessel still lying unused since breakfast." "All the knights would gladly serve under him." "In fact they gave me a pattission witch I have yet
to show him requesting that he be allowed to rise up in rank to become at the very least a lord with tracks of land and a title fore his services." Elfwine
finally said firmly and adamantly as only a king of a warring peopling can be "Show him the paper the patission and then he can't refuse." "Humility is
one of his best attributes and I respect that but he deserves something whether he desires it or not." Elboron sat in thought fore a moment and then spoke
in even more gentle tone filled with understanding and admiration. "You are right but I don't think it is up to us to shove it down is throat and leave
miserable in a possession he doesn't want." "He wants it alright but he feels that he shouldn't seize it when so many others have bled just as much as
he has and faced death never to escape alive from the field of battle again" argued Elfwine. "Being a general of a military operation vital to the success
of our lord Eldarian would be a dream come true fore the scout." "Also I'm sure he doesn't want to loose any time with his wife if he is stuck with the
other generals at councils of war in Dun Harrow or Meduseld now that it is free from the enemy's grasp while we still possess this land in the name of
the king of the Dunidain." Elboron steward of Eldarian smiled shrewdly looking directly in to his friend's eyes. At last he said "My old friend I believe
you are absolutely correct." "I think the only way to get our general is to cut a deal." "From now one where ever we need to hold a council of war we shale
hold it either hear at Ithillian or allow Morwin and Aranoth to travel with us if possible." Elfwine broke out laughing nodding his head repetitively.
"Summon your general at once" said the king finally recovering from his fit of amusement and constant hysterical laughter. The steward shrugged trying
to shake off any expectation from his mind and left the room walking down the stares hurriedly to send errand riders to search fore Mablung if he was no
longer still in one of the gardens right out side the door. As Elboron walked away Elfwine rolled over in bed closed his weary eyes and fell soundly asleep
when he could hardly hear his friend's foot falls on the uncarpeted wooden Flore. When he awoke it was Keol and not Elboron who was standing over him looking
impassiontly down at him with an inquisitive expression on his face? "Are all the Eolingas hear" asked the king yawning quietly. "Only myself and a few
good old horsemen." "The bulk of the riders have left fore Dun Harrow or there homes in Meduseld witch have been already rebuilt." "You have been ill fore
over a week now." "The magic of the dark lord is hard to mend" murmured Elfwine looking to Elboron's empty chare. "Where is my friend Elboron and what
of Mablung's decision" he asked trying not to sound expectant. "I do not know of Mablung's final decision regarding the commission he was offered but
I can tell you that the lord steward has gone to his house and is pleading with the scout and advisor of Ithillian to except his offer." Elfwine frowned
hoping fore more news but soon recovered from his anticipation fore the moment to hear what Keol could tell of Rohan. "Meduseld has been prepared fore
you my lord and much of the people who had dwelt at Dun Harrow have returned there awaiting your arrival" the rider of the Mark when on thrilling to his
king's fascination. "Gondor is chock full of our foe and Eldarian's people are starving." This news was less good. Elfwine still cursed himself fore not
waiting fore Elboron but how could he have known? His train of thought was interrupted by Keol's next words. "All the west free from Morgoth's grasp at
the moment has heard of the slaying of the wizard and the name of Mablung." "The dark lord now has a new warrior to fear and I have also heard tell that
your name is also renowned fore your contest with the sorcerers as well." The king smiled looking up at his comrade in arms appreciatively and added abruptly
"But most of the credit obviously goes to Mablung my friend does it not?" "Indeed my king and liege lord" replied Keol but then said "But oft they slayer
of such a feared foe receives more fame then the one who has courageously fought that same foe and yet has fallen." "Your actions are just as important
to the war effort as Mablung's." Elfwine got to his feet and groaned. Besides his wounded hands arms and tired head he was well enough to walk about a
little but Keol was so concerned fore his king's health he made Elfwine get back in to bed. "Not until Elboron tells us all that you are well enough" the
rider of Rohan gently grumbled sitting down in the steward's accustomed seat. Felling the soft blankets and pillows once again against his back and head
Elfwine soon fell swiftly asleep and only woke when he heard the sounds of many men in the halls far below cheering. Leaning to one side he lifted his
head to see what was going on but since the celebration was in another room out of sight and virtually invisible from the upper Flore of Elboron's house
the king was forced to either wait until some one came up the stares or try to get the attention of one of the lords living on the upper Flore. Elfwine
tried shouting fore assistance but no one arrived. Most of the household was down stares no doubt. Although the cheering had died down leaving only the
faint echo of unintelligible conversations out of ear shot, the noises he had heard seemed to suggest that some ceremony was going on down below. Did Mablung
agree to accept Elboron's offer and was now receiving his rank publicly as he originally suggested to the steward? There where no other options that came
to mind. What else could the guard of Elboron be excited about? Still aching all over but unwilling to simply walk away from this tantalizing predicament
Elfwine got up, put on his leather boots, and briskly hopped down the stares eyes bright with anticipation. On one hand he realized he could be right but
on the other there was little evidence to suggest that his assumption wasn't based merely on what he wished to be taking place in the main hall. He had
not been out and on his feet fore a whole week so perhaps there was some small trivial victory witch the lords of Gondor where using to rally there men's
morale. But the more and more the king thought about it he realized that there had been a skirmish witch the allies of Eldarian had truly won that he knew
about fore he himself had taken part in it. What of the battle that took place on the road to Minas Tirith? There Mablung slew the captain of the eastern
host earning his title if he had indeed claimed it. Everything was beginning to fall in to place. As he reached the foot of the stares and saw the lord
Elboron, Keol, and Mablung all standing together in front of all the armed men of Ithillian there was hardly any doubt left to challenge his assumptions.
Before the three lords was a long sheet of paper dripping with fresh ink and on it in Mablung's script was the warrior's own name. The cheering I must
have heard earlier Elfwine thought had to have been roused when Mablung signed Elboron's offer. With out a doubt the former messenger of Ithillian and
scout was now a high ranking general under the steward's high command. It seemed to the king of Rohan that his friend general had only just finished speaking.
What ever he said aroused the crowd's excitement fore all the soldiers present had already begun to slam there weapons against there large shields fore
the third time. When all the clamor died down again one lone figure from the back dressed in fine linen holding a plain wooden rod stepped up to the three
lords and bowed. Then Elboron took the rod and said a few words in the elvish tongue of the west witch Elfwine could not hear and at last handed the rod
to Mablung. The moment the general excepted the staff the crowd burst in to applause and Elboron said in a commanding tone louder then the roar of the
warriors and there families that stood by "As high steward of the house of Anarion I hear by not only wish to publicly thank our knew general fore his
courage and fighting skill but also wish to grant him lands witch he may rule as lord under my authority witch is subject only to the king Eldarian's."
Then the steward went on and on about certain plots of land that would be under his beloved general's sway once the war was finally won. Elfwine and perhaps
even a few of his fellow riders like Keol couldn't help but notice that all the lands promised to there friend Mablung where now currently in enemy hands.
"I Elboron shale help govern the war with the king but from this day on my general shale be superior to all other men of arms hear save myself and Eldarian
who soon shale be rescued when we ride forth with the sons of Eol to another even greater victory." The steward's voice was not the kind and gentle monotone
that had spoken to Elfwine not so long before but the charismatic boisterous words of a politician wishing to gain support from his battle scared men who
had seen enough fighting and wished only to stay hear with there families. The king of the mark had only first noticed the women and children in the back
of the hall behind the soldiers when Mablung first received the rod of the office to witch he was assigned. Many of these same civilians had also seen
men die, often enough there own fathers and husbands, as well as the annihilation of there homes under the cruel merciless march of the orcs. But instead
of sorrow or even bitterness Elfwine only saw pride on there faces and resilience. Now when a king rides off to death and destruction the people whom he
leaves behind often rebel and riot fore days reckoning little of the cause ore the loyalty there liege lords deserve. When all was finally over all the
soldiers and there friends and families left the room leaving Keol, the steward, and his general alone poring over intricate maps. The lord king of Rohan
did not hear what they where saying and so crept closer. He had hoped that the trio would recognize him in the crowd but the many people present had been
so numerous it must have been impossible to tell stranger from deer comrade or friend. "I deem that we should first follow the road and then deviate from
the path in to the fields that lead to the battle plain before the gates of Minas Tirith" Elboron was saying turning to Mablung. "I agree" he replied but
went on to say "yet I believe you left one small troubling issue out of your calculations." "Those fields you spoke of leading to the city are interrupted
by small patches of forest witch the wild men of Ghanboriaghan's descendents still inhabit." "We would need there permission to march threw there lands
since they are not of Gondor's control but the wild men's." "Then we must find a path that leads past or around the forests but avoiding the main road"
interrupted Keol looking worried and far more grave then Elfwine had ever saw him. But then something caught the king's eye that the other lords did not
see and with out preamble startled them all by launching in to his friend's conversation. "Look here." "There is an old goat path on the fringes of the
forest paths controlled by the wild men of the forests." "It runs parallel to Théoden's rout and comes up on the same ridge on witch the king of the mark
once rode out from to glory and death." "It seems far more appropriate to me then any other field witch is now occupied by our foe and I doubt that the
orcs have learned of it." "It was made at the dawn of Elessar's reign as king to camemberate the ride of the Roherrim at the battle of the Pelenor fields
and it was used by Shepard's in the valley to bring there live stock in to the main city." "That way the men of Elessar's house got there meet long before
the wagons arrived from the other lands closer to the sea under the jurisdiction of the crown." "Because the path was meant fore heavy cargo and live stock
of course as well as a walking cite fore pedestrians it was widened over time until around thirty years ago when the crown had more problems on there hands
from small bands of Orc raiders a sign of the rise of Morgoth no doubt although none of us even Aragorn King did not read the signs aright" So sudden and
unexpected this development seemed to Elboron, Mablung, and Keol that all three warriors stood dead in there tracks first stunned to find there comrade
out of bed and then to hear his knowledge of a path that had escaped there frantic minds and eyes despite the fact that it was clearly visible before them
in black inescapable ink. Fore a whole minute the four men stood motionless transfixed to there uncomfortable crouching passions still upright and on there
feet by sheer amazement. The silence was ominous but not itself empty but filled with unspoken meaning. An assault on the besieging army of Morgoth outside
Eldarian's capital city since the destruction of Osgiliath and the evacuation of Anumenas in the north actually was plausible. Elboron had talked confidently
before but had not fully believed his own words to his soldiers. Now the problem of reaching Minas Tirith was solved but the task of arming so many men
in a short period of time once again would take thousands of individuals to accomplish. It would take at least another three days to prepare a full assault
and every day that passed by hastened the destruction of the south kingdom. Errand riders had some how escaped the orcs out of the white city and the news
they bore was evil indeed. Eldarian's people where starving to death and almost hopeless. Some of them had resorted to eating rodents like rats and mice
just to keep alive. No one believed that they would turn to cannibalism but the very desperation of the lords of that once prosperous city was enough to
allow the brain to conger up the most ridiculous ideas. These were hard and cruel days and it was up to the armed might of the free peoples of middle earth
to set things finally right. At last Elboron asked Elfwine "Are you well enough to ride in three days time?" The king's answer was loud and clear. "Count
on it steward." "Count on it."

Chapter Five

The following day Elfwine king of Rohan lord of the Mark left Ithillian with Keol and those riders who remained to muster a large force of horseman
armed and prepared fore battle at once in Edoras and then allow Elboron's gondorian force also on horseback to join up with the host of the riders in Rohan.
It was said in the chronicles of the Mark and Ithillian in those days that all the land between the house of the steward and the golden hall not crawling
with occasional foes or spies was filled with errand riders reporting on the mustering of the armies fore the most part. The dark lord's main force in
the south obviously heard of the great press of men ready in the saddle but only sent spies in to the north fearing to send too great a host and divide
there main strength. When the main host of the Roherrim and the lords of Ithillian where assembled the steward and his general Mablung left there land
fore the golden hall of Edoras leaving both great weeping and proud shouts from there families behind. The son of Baragond friend of Paragrin Took kept
Ithillian safe from her enemies threw out the duration of the conflict that was to follow and Keol had been left in Edoras against his will when the combined
force of the two armies set forth fore Gondor's white city. Long afterwards a minstrel in Rohan song a famous ballad recounting the second ride of the
Mark in the preservation of the crown and the white tree along side there fellow Gondorian brothers. There where many versions of it but one such version
went something like to what I have here copied down in full.
In the grey of dawn waited the captains

Golden hair flowing
Sword unsheathing
From the south came our allies baring banners greater than bright colorful standards
Greater than all bore the white tree
Greater than the tree of the lord of silver fountains
Greater than O did our hearts leap gladly
Greater than to see our comrades all ready
Greater than long hath they ridden
Greater than threw the long night fall
Greater than spies still lingered
Greater than creeping amid the tall grass
Greater than caution counseled our every move
Greater than then where horns blown
Greater than louder then the falls of Ralros
Greater than mightier then the war cry of Eol
Greater than first king of our brave people
Greater than then blew our banner
Greater than white horse on green field flying
Greater than how did we shut out the lingering shadow
Greater than with bright steel brilliantly shining
Greater than all heads where bowed
Greater than saluting our captains
Greater than king and steward
Greater than fearless general Mablung still mounted on his steed
Greater than turgon the bold even hardier then our own lord's war horse
Greater than
Greater than then we bad farewell to our old country
Greater than our children our wives
Greater than streams of tears flowing
Greater than but far southward where our captains headed
Greater than shamed where any who scorned there final order to ride at once
Greater than long hath the golden hall stood glittering
Greater than could it whether the storm of Morgoth?
Greater than it was our duty to defend it
Greater than now hundreds now lie
Greater than in high mounds in Gondor
Greater than far from family
Greater than far from our own beloved Rohan
Greater than stand now Meduseld
Greater than fore we have bled fore you
Greater than hall of our kings
Greater than hall of our champions
Greater than long guard our people
Greater than riders of old Kelinnarthon
Greater than the Mark of the Riders
Greater than Rohan
Greater than Rohan
Greater than, it was rumored that among the horseman of the Mark also came dwarves of the glittering caves on carts beladen with weapons and supplies but this legend
has long been set aright. No carts filled with dwarves could have endured the rugged terrain or the rocky untended goat's path on witch no weald vehicle
could have traveled since it was last refined and mended over thirty years before. It is said when the horseman of Rohan and those mounted men of Gondor
reached the path they had to actually dismount and camp fore one more night then was originally intended. It was only until they reached the very mound
on witch Théoden road to glory when they could at last sound there clear battle horns and ride down upon the hosts of Morgoth on the Pelenor fields. After
the battle was finally over and the armies of Morgoth driven to Mordor or slain Mablung sent a letter back home to Morwin recounting what happened during
the battle among the ranks of the Gondorians and the Roherrim. I do not believe that it is in my place to summarize his words in this case since he has
so elegantly given the only surviving first hand account of that struggle. Though other soldiers and even Elboron wrote small pamphlets accounting there
own experiences many of them where lost when the library of Minas Anor was accidentally burnt down by a fire only two years ago. I and many other scholars
have long searched fore spare copies but I'm afraid none can now be found that I am aware of. Anyway hear is the entire letter as it is preserved in Ithillian
among the surviving records of the steward's orders during the war. Absolutely nothing has been omitted by law, regulation, or on other more complex legal
basses.
Greater than
Greater than my dear Morwin and young Aranoth
Greater than only two days ago I and the other lords of the west reached the mound where Théoden road to death and long glory in the songs of the mark. When we passed
it I couldn't help but feeling a little superstitious pondering whether our fates would be like that of that mighty king of the house of Eol caught bravely
in a desperately charge and slain by the shadowy servants of the enemy. But as you now know I and King Elfwine along with Elboron have all escaped the
battle unscathed save fore a few scratches and annoying agitating bruises. As we made ready to charge Elboron came to the head of the column of men and
asked if I might say a few encouraging words. I don't know why on middle earth they chose me when Elboron and the king of Rohan where ripe to give us all
another stirring rendition of something they likely wrote down a week ago fore such an occasion. Perhaps they thought that because I am the slayer of
that blasted blue wizard I should be kind of the poster boy or hero of our cause. I am really getting tired of all this politics. It makes every so confusing
and mixes up every ones' opinions so that nothing can get done. Any I forget much of what I said save fore what I can now vaguely recall. Every one I spoke
to said they saw no fear in my face and seemed altogether the fighting every man's hero Elboron wants me to seem but I was terribly nervous to tell you
the truth. I'm not cut out fore this kind of work and although I enjoy the power more then any one eels it troubles me when I find myself left with only
me to figure things out. In this case keep up the moral of an entire army. Elboron had ignited a spark but could I set the entire army to flames like dry
brush wood? I road to the head of the host and began to explain what we are fighting fore. "All of us have friends or family too young, old, ill, or week
to fight with us hear to day" I went on. "They know there deadly peril and they are depending on all of us to save them from torture and death at cruel
hands." "With out your total and absolute commitment to vanquishing the vial foe here to day then all of them may meet such a terrible fate." This pragmatic
approach seemed to frighten the men but it did not encourage them. I turned to Théoden's example fore inspiration hoping frantically that it would pay
off. "Gentleman" I cried out dramatically raising my sword to the skies "This is hollowed ground." "Years ago on this very soil another great man another
great king road to his death but not in vane." "On this soil before you thousands perished but it was not fore nothing." "When Sauron invaded Gondor its
people where hard beset by the dark lord." "In response Denathor lit the beacons to worn Rohan of the white's city's distress and with out delay the riders
of the mark came." "When they reached this very spot all the soldiers where tired and weary of blood shed." "They wished to save there friends but where
only a small host against the whole might of Mordor." "But they fought nonetheless." "On the Pelenor fields before you stands an army thrice greater then
your own but we will face them like those brave horseman of old." "Fore those Gondorians out there from Ithillian remember that it was your king Elessar
with men from the lands by the sea tributary to Gondor witch brought aid to the Roherrim." We too fought impossible odds and defeated our cursed foes."
"To day I am asking each and every one of you to fight to the last man and to hold nothing back." "If we needed a miracle in this war it is now hear where
the enemy feels that he is strongest." "He is wrong." "As we speak there might be soldiers in the white tower enough to support us if we falter." "But
even if there where ten times as many men and orcs encamped against us I know fore certain that we would drive them from the field." "No matter what awaits
us no matter the odds we shall conquer." "When you return home after all is over your sons shall look to you as heroes and wives adore you even more then
they already do fore with every enemy slain to day lessons the dark lord's chances of invading our lands." "Arise Arise my friends and fellow men at arms
fore this day we drive the shadow of Morgoth back to the gates of Mordor itself." was "Ride now ride with me ride to Gondor." I had been so caught up in
what I was saying and worried that I would show some sign of fear threw my words or body language that I failed to see the affect my speech was making.
At last as I made ready to give the orders to sound the horns of the mark and charge all the riders and mounted men of Ithillian began to cheer as they
had when I was publicly given the rod of the high general's office or when I signed my papers excepting that same office under the condition that all meetings
that required my service had to take place around our abode in Ithillian where I could find you and our boy Aranoth. The faces of all the soldiers bore
smiles wider then I have ever seen and some of them interrupted the shouts of there fellows by chanting my name again and again in quick succession. I
had accomplished my task to invigorate the armed host I was to help the king and steward to lead. Now it was time to face the enemy. Receiving permission
to begin the assault from Elfwine and Elboron I kicked my steed Turgon witch you know escaped the skirmish on the road to Minas Tirith sending my horse
in frenzy towards the orcs and men as well as allowing the entire army to ride down the mound and towards the city where our foes stood flabbergasted.
Upon seeing the host of the enemy I was surprised to find that there where less orcs and more men then I originally supposed. The men where Easternlings
and dark skinned tall warriors from the south. There where a few Mumakil or Oliphaunts as Halflings call them witch trampled many of our best archers who
tried to shoot them down. But as I tried to count all the beasts I found that there where hardly fifty in total and where probably clumsy creatures witch
proved to be true enough. I can recall the glint of our brilliant swords as we crashed in to the foe slaying hundreds no doubt at once. All the enemy seemed
to have dropped what they where doing on the walls to destroy the gate witch they likely felt was the weakest point in Eldarian's defense just as Sauron's
captain the witch king had attempted long before. But before I could reach the gate Elfwine and then Elboron where swept with many men away from the main
army by the clever enemy who plainly wished to divide our host and thus find it easier to destroy it. While a few companies on either side where cut off
under the leadership of the king and the steward my own held true. Doubtless some one was directing the few goblins and men to target the king and Elboron
first and then attempt to slay the proud slayer of there old captain thus demoralizing the riders and Gondorian horseman of Ithillian. Many unhappy fools
noticed my shining new male and shield and attempted to assail me with brute strength but no mortal could with stand my two guards or my carefully wielded
blade. Soon my scouts found my two superiors Elboron and Elfwine who looked very grumpy and jealous I must say and eventually had enough military support
from those few soldiers closer to us then the walls in order to reach the indomitable gate of mithral that Gimli's dwarves had made. Trolls and most of
the orcs where before us not with one ram but many crudely carved with daggers and not elegant knives baring spells of black speech witch no man in the
service of the white tower can read. It was Elfwine who spotted our black robed Barrow White nemeses together in front of the bars of the gate chanting
in there own hideous tongue doubtless derived from the speech of Mordor witch I have already described carved in to the battering rams of our cursed foe.
There where three spectral figures all dismounted and standing amid what seemed to be a ring of round shapes too remote to clearly make out. As I road
ahead of my companions they became all to clear. The Barrow whites where standing in the midst of a pile of severed heads the heads of all the soldiers
they had captured. I can only guess but I strongly believe that this was some attempt of the dark lord's servants' to further demoralize the defenders
of the city. The three shadows blacker then the night in there dark cloaks eyes more furious then I have ever seen them seemed to have heard our horns
and where trying to capture Eldarian at once in order to end the battle quick and make our sacrifice useless. Elfwine and Elboron surrounded by foes once
again watched in horror as I and only a few hundred horseman of Gondor and the Mark drove a path threw the foe and cut off the three specter's escape but
escape seemed the last thing on there minds now. In fact they hardly turned to see us but continued to chant and attempt to work there magic. While they
where still distracted I jumped off Turgon's back just missing an orc arrow and ran towards my sworn enemies. Before any of them could retaliate or break
off from there incantations I grabbed one of there new short swords from one of the black cloaked figure's sheaths' and slew one of the fowl creatures
closest to me while engaging another who had just begun to turn around. Now it was a more even fight. Two against one. It could have been better and then
again much worse. But since I have dealt with these vial demons before I believed that I was best suited to meet them in single combat rather then Elfwine
or even the wise Elboron. The two enemies swirled hear and there blades rattling against my own like flies assailing a window on a summer's day unable
to enter the warm invite full home. They might have stingers but once one has felt three bights one knows how to put fear aside and do the task at hand.
By side stepping one Barrow White I was able to plunge my stolen short sword in to one of the demon's legs. Then I swung around just missing another blow
from a dagger thrust by the falling ghost and dug the blade in to my fallen foe's head. Now it was one armed man against one armed ancient demonic wraith
like spirit. Boy that sounds fair doesn't it? This adversary took more then a few carefully aimed strokes to dispatch. How the devil ran back and forth
dodging and twirling my sword aside like to the fighting stile of some of the more known swords masters among the Easternlings. But at last he too fell
his own blade witch I swiped protruding from his chest a look of resigned acceptance etched in the dying embers of those too hateful eyes. At last the
Barrow Whites of the dark years had fallen never to return. By my courage and swordsmanship I have gladly vanquished them all. Now there is only one magical
foe to see fall and that is Morgoth. The day that sorcerer passes from this world will be the day when men and not these beasts shale truly inhabit the
earth. At last I met up with both my friends who had seen me dispatch the fowl Barrow Whites. Elfwine looked envious but grateful asking me how he had
survived so many of there attacks fore so long while Elboron stood smiling surveying the field fore new foes to assail before going to speak with the king.
Finally seeing thousands of men and goblins on the field still battling our soldiers it was decided that I should enter the city to guard the king while
Elfwine and Elboron should go at once and drive the enemy from the field. The steward felt that he should guard Eldarian at first but then thought better
of it since I am better equipped to face any supernatural foes that might attempt to slay the son of Elessar. After slaying the orcs and other servants
of Morgoth in the city as well as sending reinforcements to my comrades on the field I steadily walked to the king's throne room. Some enemies had entered
and plundered the city by entering Minas Tirith threw a tunnel they dug under the walls the night before. Luckily the tunnel was already blocked up by
gondorian soldiers before I arrived and hardly a hundred small goblins actual survived an unexpected assault long before our horns where sounded leaving
very few foes left alive in the white city of the kings of Gondor. The walk to Eldarian's personal chambers was long and worrisome and there where many
bodies along the way but I shall write no more of that now since I have already given you more gruesome details then was originally necessary. When I found
the king Eldarian he was sitting in his throne heedless to my intrusion with only a few guards about him and only one wonderful object of luxury and importance
in hand. The palantir of the treasury of Elendil. The palantir where seven seeing stones witch Elendil brought out of Numenor to Middle Earth. You probably
know this beloved but they can communicate with other stones and descry things far off. The name Palantir I was told means that witch looks far off. But
I won't bore you about our own history if you already know all about it. I thought I might refresh your memory though. The dark haired moody faced king
sat with the large stone ball in his lap staring down reckoning not at all the visitor that gaped at his wondrous magical stone with the curiosity of a
child. I Morwin was absolutely enthralled and so rapped up in this spectacle that I forgot to introduce myself to the guards. When I noticed that they
where staring at me I at last explained who I was and what my errand was. They advised me to wait a little while longer and have my fill of food and drink
until the king was done with his "business." Being unwilling to refuse and also being extremely hungry and parched beyond belief I accepted a mug of watered
down wine and scrumptious cakes small and white in color. Instead of curing my desire fore the pleasures of the dining room table the meal only made me
even more thirsty and ravenous then before. But the guard had already been very generous in giving me what I have just described. The reports of ordinary
civilians eating rodents and old rotting meet was actually true but the guard of the white tree had gotten better provisions from the King who had tried
to share as much of his delectable meals with all but often enough this caused dissention among the populous of the crumbling city. All would have been
lost that very day if the forces of Elboron and Elfwine hadn't arrived. The people the guards assured me would be eternally grateful fore slaying the barrow
whites and when I told them about my other exploits and the slaying of the wizard all the guards in the room actually bowed there heads and praised me
in the Aduniac tongue of Numenor. It was then when Eldarian rose from his seat and put the Palantir on a small table near by. Just as he sat down again
he saw me and asked in a refined elegant but friendly voice "Who may you be good sir?" "Mablung" I replied "captain general of the armies of your steward
Elboron who has arrived to rescue you from your foes." "With him has come Elfwine and his men who I also have managed on the lord of the mark's behalf."
The king looked impressed and looked long in to my eyes as though searching my mind fore trickery or deceit. "No I did not hear any thing since I looked
in to this Palantir hear witch I shall tell you about in the grey of dawn long ago." "Much I learned and saw your men marching but I believed that your
where headed not to my city but to the north following the Orcs after your battle at Dun Harrow witch I saw in this stone." It was then that the king elaborated
on the history of the Palantiri the seven seeing stones of the Noldor perhaps made by Feanor the maker of the Silmarils as is told in Bilbo's novel translations
from the elvish witch I know you enjoy. "I saw your forces at the main road to this land" the king went on "but saw them get demolished by a great enemy
host lead by the wizard of the east witch I have read up in our library." "Then I saw him fall at the hand of a warrior whose face bares a similarity to
your own." "I believe that fortunate event took place before the fighting began and that the warrior who slew the sorcerer began the fighting." Eldarian's
bright eyes bore in to my own once again as though realizing something about me fore the first time and asked in a gentle but forceful tone "Did you slay
the captain of the enemy that day before another greater army assisted you out of Ithillian lead by my steward." My answer came sternly from my lips and
there was no lie in my voice fore I told the truth regarding my actions. "Yes my lord king." "I saved the king of the mark and his men from being slain
by the fowl foe." The king simply nodded and then after awhile smiled kindly and saluted me after the factions of the high men of Gondor who dwell in the
white city. I returned the gesture and said finally "This city is now Minas Anor once again." "The days of her siege shale surely end to day if I am not
dead wrong." "Indeed you are correct my general" said a familiar voice from behind. With a quick glance I saw that it was Elboron. The steward introduced
himself and then began to tell us both that the enemy had been either driven in to the great river or escaped on black sailed ships that came from the
havens of the south and Umbar witch had been captured once again as well. After the war I deem that these territories shall easily be won back just as
the king Elessar had and these past days Eldarian seems to be of the same opinion. I can't help feel kind of disappointed though that we never got to actually
destroy the majority of Morgoth's army. Many men where saved by the black fleet. It is like the old battle of the Pelenor gone wrong or perhaps the enemy
wished it would happen this way to mock our former victory years ago. I find it strange that the foe in Mordor should imitate the old dark lord in so many
ways. He even had his own version of wraiths. By Iluvitar he also has settled in Mordor again as well. Butt I have to say this. Morgoth has made one major
decision witch I believe may help him in the long run. Sauron's orcs where not trust worthy. They only knew how to fight fore themselves. Now we have men
who actually can serve with more then just greed but purpose. If it was men fore example at Serith Ungul who found Frodo's mithral coat they wouldn't have
killed each other but would have assuredly reported there findings. We mortals can see the big picture and all these vial goblins know is what they can
obtain fore them selves in the short run. Finally after the war is over Morgoth can also rule a kingdom full of subject's witch he can control. Orcs would
have to have been annihilated once the conflict was over. Orcs would have rebelled if there where no more spoils of conquest to win. Men on the other hand
will be content to live in peace as long as they can be left alone and rewarded richly once witch is what this wizard likely has promised them I guess.
There fore I am not surprised to learn that the enemy has simply stopped breeding these goblins leaving the population of the orcs in grave danger. Most
of us hear think that this good news fore the present especially fore the soldiers in the north. The enemy is not as strong as Sauron was at this point
but in the long run this could be not only bad but out right terrible if we loose. Men will take our territories and leave us to become slaves or just
slay us all. Any way I thought you would like to hear from me and I wanted you to know all about my adventures. I miss you all so much. I'm sorry if this
letter is too long to read all at once. I had to find the largest scrolls in Gondor in order to tell the tale in full. Your very own beloved Mablung.
Greater than Now I'm sure you have already noticed that the Mablung we hear from is not the humble reluctant hero but far more confident in himself and at times
a little cocky when describing his duel with the barrow whites. I'm sure he was down right terrified when he faced the tough spectral warrior but no hint
of this comes threw in his writing. Also he mentions having a hard time remembering his speech yet immediate following this remark he goes on to copy down
an elaborate speech making him the only determining factor turning the downcast morale of the men to absolute battle lust. The fact that he also was not
present at the battle after the destruction of the barrow whites and hardly makes it sound like a big deal passing it off as though Elboron would allow
his general to simply walk away from the field because he was bested suited to defend the king. Doubtless some argument ensued witch Mablung won but if
there was friction between the steward and his general afterwards is entirely unknown. In fact the two men seem to have gotten along just as they had indicating
that if there was only gap in there friendship it was soon mended by Elfwine. The reason fore many of these changes no doubt was also because it was originally
intended fore Aranoth his son who enjoyed stories of battle and gore more so then Morwin. Clearly Mablung wanted his son to simply be proud of him. Aranoth
was probably only five at this time making the story about Mablung holding his son in his arms before leaving fore Dun Harrow even more unlikely. But despite
its flaws this document is the best written record of the second battle of the Pelenor we have. The tide had turned fore Eldarian and his subjects would
soon receive fresh provisions from a goat's path witch he had long thought occupied by the enemy misjudging Morgoth's guilefulness. It had been repaired
and leveled to a smooth compact dirt road allowing carts and mounted men to ride smoothly on the path with out hindrance or complications of any sort.
When the king looked abroad in his palantir the path had been covered in shadow by a process called veiling that had long been lost save to Sauron. Did
Morgoth know of the path and the implications it might have as a route fore the men of the Mark and of Ithillian to utilize? If so why didn't the orcs
occupy it? These puzzling questions may never be answered but the battle that took place before the gates of Gondor on the fields of Pelenor following
the former struggle that took place there so long before remains one of the most important battles of the sorcerer's war.

Chapter Six
After the second battle of the Pelenor the food gathered fore the people of the white city was swiftly consumed by the starving populous who then demanded
even more. As a result fore several long days following the actual fighting there was much traffic between the mark of the sons of Eol along with other
territories of Gondor and the lords of Eldarian who faithfully distributed as much provisions as was possible. It took a full three weeks of these transactions
to fatten the hungry people as well to repair there homes witch was carried out by dwarves out of Rohan tis said who later would claim that they fought
in the struggle to save the king's city from utter annihilation. At last the white city of the Gondorians witch had once recently become Minas Tirith the
city of guard had become Minas Anor once more. The families of the warriors who fought in the great battle came to the city and flowered there loved ones
with knew armor and all sorts of weapons forged by the elderly smiths of Ithillian who could not ride or the dwarves of the glittering caves. Among the
visitors came Morwin and Aranoth and it is rumored that with them they may have brought what few possessions of gold and silver they had been given by
ancestors who had dealing with elves and hid there bounty some where in there living quarters with in the citadel itself. Treasure hunters and young school
boys often go searching fore this supposed forgotten treasure but I doubt that such priceless momentums or heirlooms could have been concealed with out
showing up in Mablung's letters witch have been preserved fore the most part save for a few useless old manuscripts witch have been lost in the destruction
of our city's first library. I feel it is my duty to put these myths to rest since they often alter the true events of history in ways that become either
well known or cherished as fact or eventually distorts the truth to the point where none of us can tell where the fiction begins and the facts end. But
Anyway around this particular time Eldarian high king of Gondor studied the movements of the enemy in his palantir until one disastrous incident took place
that would shape the fortunes of Morgoth's war against the free peoples of middle earth. The king was sitting on his throne one day alone and examining
the mustering of orcs in the north when he felt an odd desire to look towards Mordor. He could not explain it afterwards to his captains but kept on emphasizing
that it was almost hypnotic and undeniably uncontrollable. As Eldarian looked across the dead marshes, the battle plain, and at last threw the reconstructed
black gates he noticed something very strange. Normally orc legions or companies of men in the service of the dark tower marched to military outposts from
the gate of the black land but now all the battle plain was emptied. A shutter of doubt and reluctance began to fill the lord king's mind. Should he look
even farther and perhaps reveal himself to the enemy? But the magic that was overtaking reason and logic was too terrible to imagine. Eldarian had no choice
left in the matter. He tried to look away but could not. Then to his horror he saw not only the mountains of shadow and the ruins of the dark tower but
rather a mighty bastion larger then the king had ever seen. Black walls and battlements larger then the citadel of Minas Anor rose up to greet his darting
eyes. In the midst of the main circle of walls and lesser forts linked together was a dark tower only slightly larger then the tower of Ecthellian in the
white city but far more imposing and intimidating. On latter's springing from high ledges where battalions of goblins with crude hammers and other tools
while wild uncouth evil looking half orcs few in number but still wicked handed there comrades supplies. In the valley below wargs where howling and men
where mustering. Yet out of all the countless figures who toiled in that forsaken place all faces where turned down to the ground and not towards the pinnacle
of the dark tower. Loathing his helplessness but unable to wrench his face away from the stone of seeing Eldarian was forced to gaze wide eyed upwards.
There at the crown of the tower itself was not a simple flat roof on witch stood a small structure to serve as a look out post but an enormous hideous
spiked point with a large round window at its center. Threw the window burned an intense red green light that blinded the king fore a few brief moments
but then threw the searing fiery glow could clearly be seen a shadowy cyluet of an extraordinarily tall man like individual holding something on top of
what might have been a pedestal. Then to the king's stunned amazement the glow faded away leaving his eyes fixed on a room with in the pinnacle of the
tower itself. There before the window stood a hideous bent person all covered up in black robes like the barrow whites but far more ancient looking then
the tortured son of Elessar would have thought at first. In the stranger's left hand was a large staff made of some dark red wood engraved with many characters
and t its top was set one brilliantly shining gem more lovely then Eldarian had ever seen. Could it be a silmaril he pondered frantically? If so where
had he found it? The king heard that one such jewel had been taken by Earendil to sail the skies as a shining star in the night sky, and that the other
two had found there homes with in the earth and in the depths of the sea. Had the wizards in the east located this Silmaril and had become greedy and possessive
of it. Did Morgoth promise the other blue wizard he worked with the holy jewel of Feanor along with other lesser treasures once the war was one? Eldarian's
mind was racing faster then lighting to discover an answer but with out warning his eyes struck another object on a strange pedestal on the person's right
side baring a palantir witch also filtered light like a beacon out the window. But the light of this stone was not pale green as was the king's own seeing
stone but crimson as blood. It was the lost seeing stone believed to have been under the sway of the dark lord Sauron that had supposedly lost in the down
fall of Barad Dur. Yet now the dark tower of Barad Dur had been rebuilt and the enemy had means to spy on the councils of the wise. When had Morgoth obtained
this lost treasure? If he had had it all this time why hadn't he drawn the king to his unrelenting gaze and interrogated him. There could be only one clear
answer. The seeing stone of Barad Dur the Palantir of Sauron had only just been found and only just brought before the dark lord. This mad mysterious lord
with his back turned away towards the window away from Eldarian's frustrated gaze was Morgoth. Then from the hooded back side of the sorcerer's head came
not a voice but words that where transmitted directly in to the king's brain. "See the greatness of my abode son of Aragorn" scorned the dark lord clearly
amused. "Now with this stone of mine I will have total access to your every move." "You can no longer use your Palantir with out meeting me again and we
both know that the stone of Denathor has been rendered useless since the old fool's suicide." "You are trapped." Eldarian shuttered and attempted to wrench
his will away from the terror of the dark lord's iron will but all his efforts continued to prove futile. At last he said struggling to defy the shadow
""I swear that when we meet again I or my servants will slay you and take from you the holy jewel of Feanor the Silmaril that now unlawfully is coveted
by you and currently lies attached to your staff." The form of the dark lord seemed to grow more erect and agitated then before his arms and legs flying
angrily back and forth for one moment before the next words transmitted threw the Palantir reached his foe's mind. Morgoth Said "Very well captain foolhardy
I then shall put your courage and brave words to the test." "I hear by challenge you to battle out side the doors of Barad Dur itself if you be not craven."
"I will watch my army crush your own and your allies' and then when all about are slain then I shall come forth and end your life." "This I swear by Iluvitar
himself." The king of the Dunidain protested "I will meet you in battle the old fashion way like to the contest between Fingalfin and the lord of Angband."
"Neither army will attack the other while both of us remains standing before the doors of your tower." "So shall it be" pronounced the dark magician of
sorcery." "Go now and tell your captains of war and that general who slew my treacherous week ally and tell them that with in a fort night I will meet
them on the field of battle with in Mordor and not on the battle plain of Degorlad and happily dispose of them all when I slay you with my blade." "Such
is the fate of all those who do not bow before my throne and call me lord." "If I finally defeat you or your army then all your lands will be forfeit to
my crown." "Muster your force at once for if you don't I will assail you and this time crush your city to rubble." "Remember that I will be watching."
And with that the king of the lords of the west lands of Middle earth fell of his throne face first on the Flore. He had never looked toward Mordor for
fear of seeing the remains of the dark tower crumbling away and remember the shadow that once was. Now he and his people would pay for it. Eldarian knew
too well that when he summoned the captains like Elboron that they would probably be afraid to march out to almost certain destruction but to stay in Minas
Anor was to accept defeat and to simply allow Morgoth to kill them all in there own territory. Only by offensive action only meeting the foe head on with
little hope for themselves could they achieve absolute victory. Now was the time to act. Now was the time to destroy every orc or monster of the war of
the ring for good. Now was the time to slay Morgoth. But could one man even the son of a mighty war lord and famous king convince his friends to march
with him to face toil and death when they had the option not to. from the Flore the son of Aragorn unsheathed his father's sword and flung it about over
head a few times practicing fencing moves again and again picturing a Gandalf like figure standing in front of him with a gigantic sword and staff blocking
his blows and using magic to slay his comrades. After a long while he sheathed his blade and walked wearily to the door where he found several guards looking
concerned at him with pale faces. They saw there lord bent and frail his face sickly and lined with pain and suffering like a prisoner only just set free.
But in his eyes still burned a keen flame a fire that only death could finally extinguish. Eldarian ordered the men standing before him to fetch all the
captains of war especially Mablung, Elboron, and the king of Rohan Elfwine son of Eomir. They agreed to do as he asked and left the court of the white
tree at once. Eldarian could see the tree growing prosperously despite the darkness of the past few days. As he stepped forward he saw one branch droop
in his direction like an arm baring a wondrous white flower. With out thinking the king stepped up to the plant and comically shook its branch as though
the symbol of the kingdom was merely a deer friend long missed. After letting go of the branch but still generally in the same possession the tree's branch
let loose the white flower in to his hand. Looking down at his palm Eldarian couldn't help wondering whether the flower that now lay there was supposed
to be a present of sorts maybe even an omen of hope. The shadow the tree was saying in a way could not last for ever and the troubled king took encouragement.
He would trust his heart. Eldarian set the flower in his circlet baring a white gem known as the Elendilmir and bowed to the tree saying reverently "Thank
you." "This is a sign witch I shall show to my councilors and captains of war that my foreboding is correct." "I shall leave fore Mordor at once." The
white tree seemed to sway in approving gesture despite the fact there was no wind. Eldarian wondered whether he was going mad or whether he had just received
divine council but nevertheless he now had the determination to meet with his friends and inform them of his latest plans and the challenge of Morgoth.
He was going to fight the dark lord face to face.
Greater than
Greater than Chapter Seven
Keol had ridden long to see his friends and allies in Minas Anor. He was tired of taking care of the golden hall and only receiving news of the struggle
with Morgoth from afar and often delayed since the roads where full of wagons baring bundles of food fore the starving people of the white city witch he
had to collect arduously from every town and village from Meduseld to Westfold with out receiving the least bit of recognition. He hoped to Iluvitar that
those damn lords in Gondor where nice and fat because there was hardly any grain now to feed Keol's own people. When the third marshal of the Ridermark
arrived days after the battle he found many of his comrades locked up in a room with the high king of the Dunidain arguing fervently over some new military
venture that was being discussed. Keol wondered whether he should have stayed at Rohan rather then to leave his people in the hands of his second in command
and to arrive only to face more political tension between contesting factions. He hated all this bickering and moaning but needed to be apart of it. What
was the use of a lame conversation he thought if you can't participate in it. Keol knocked on the two wooden doors that stood before the throne room of
Eldarian now unguarded and surprisingly unlocked. Some security system pondered the rider of Rohan still a tad amused to hear the proud captains rambling
on and on making no sense to one another like children fighting over a package of there favorite candy. Since he received no answer for some time and he
was becoming rather bored and agitated Keol thrust open the doors and cried out casually to the kings and generals "Will you all simply shut up." "Your
doors are undefended and unlocked and you seem to be making no progress." "I'm hear to inform you that your collection for food in the mark has almost
sucked us dry and we have no more to give." "Could one of you just tell me simply what is going on here?" The question was first answered by nobody. All
the faces in the large room where turned to there new guest dressed in horseman's attire as though he had just jumped off the saddle witch he had and was
not all that wealthy witch only Elfwine, Elboron, and Mablung knew was also true. Then after a few seconds of unbroken dead silence every one in the throne
room burst in to kind laughter a almost musical sound in that marble dull room witch had not been heard there since the return of the darkness from Mordor.
Only a few moments before all of the lords had be caught in and endless verbal sparing match but now the tension was finally scattered fore just this one
instant bringing hope back in to that troubled room of opinionated men all striving for what they felt was the right path to take for there people and
the whole future of middle earth. Then with one brief gesture from Eldarian the tension of there plight not only reentered the room but seemed to grow
and increase with the coming of the lord of the mark's trusted commander. The king of the north and south kingdoms under assault from Morgoth the son of
Aragorn at last broke the silence that had arisen once again. "O mighty lord of the Mark warrior in the service of Elfwine what is your name?" Before the
unexpected guest could answer his lord king Elfwine answered his ally's question. "He is my second in command Keol third Marshal of the Ridermark and if
I might add one of our best captains of war we have had in Rohan since the days of my father's youth." "Please pardon his rashness but he is not used to
speaking to mighty lords save myself and Elboron who tolerate such casual interruptions often in order to unify our men to show them that we are all just
fallible men just as they." Eldarian smiled warmly as though to a deer friend long missed and finally said in a voice both commanding and wise but also
extraordinarily understanding "I will send back all those containers of grain and other provisions that are no longer required." "I and my subjects are
most grateful for your folk's assistance and beg that you see that we where in need of stores of all kinds of food after so terrible and long a siege."
"Not even the steward Denathor withheld such a siege for so long in the face of so many foes but just as he I and my people have been saved by the aid
of a king of the Mark leaving my crown in your debt." Keol blushed with surprise and sat down at a high chair beside his king. Elfwine looked appreciatively
at Eldarian like a parent eternally grateful for a stranger's courtesy to one of his young rambunctious sons. Then to the amazement of all the king of
Gondor and what once was Anor said "I believe we owe our friend Keol and explanation for our behavior only a few moments prier to his intrusion now excused."
"I will tell my tale in brief once again despite the fact that all of you have already heard it not only to address our companion but perhaps to point
a few facts witch might have escaped your minds." "Do not worry friends for this won't take much time" he added looking at Elboron and especially Elfwine
who looked bored out of his mind. "My goal is only too highlight what has happened and not to fully recount it as well as to attempt to explain our present
predicament in greater detail." "As I have already discussed threw the enemy's skill or his servant's he has possession of a tool witch allows him to spy
on all our movements or transactions from afar that tool is known as a Palantir." "Our own Palantir is now rendered useless since the enemy has the ability
to draw the viewer gaze my gaze towards the dark tower witch has been rebuilt where he can taunt and extract information out of me." "Using that power
I have also discovered not only the existence of a knew dark tower but also that Morgoth possesses one of the three holy elvish jewels long fought over
years ago known as the Silmarils." "Why he has not made it his symbol of power none of us can now say and how he found it is a mystery but that is not
our problem my friends that is not our peril." "The enemy has challenged me to battle and I can not refuse for if we do he will attack us hear and we are
week." All the faces in the room save Mablung's turned deathly white. All save Mablung had heard these words spoken before when the king had given them
a summery of events before. So angry and troubled where the councilors none of them had heard this detail. Now all hearts where in doubt. If the dark lord
attacked the city then all would be slain. Not if there where over ten thousand troops left alive in the city after the initial assault of the Pelenor
witch was doubtful could they hold out against the might of Morgoth. Eldarian continued to speak for a moment but then noticed every one's shock and swiftly
rebuked them all by stating bluntly "I thought ass much." "You should have heard my final remarks concerning the last words of Morgoth." "He is watching
us watching us all right now and will assail us if we do not act quickly." Now all including Elboron's general was frightened. Could the dark lord actually
be headed this way if they didn't march. Keol wondered how these lords could have missed such vital information but then again an angry fool is often a
deaf fool to wise council. Then there was also another possibility. What if Eldarian had withheld this information regarding Morgoth's possible attack
on the city until he judged the ferocity of his councilors opposition to his plan to meet the dark lord before the doors of Barad Dur. I am still unsure
as to witch tactic did Eldarian take to convince his captains but whether he told his soldiers this vital news before or whether the soldiers missed this
information is almost besides the point. All knew now that there was only one way to crush the foe once and for all. They had to march on Barad Dur at
once. Just to double check his success the king of the Dunidain asked in a finality as firm and awe inspiring as his final persuasive speech "Who is marching
with me?" All the men before Eldarian's throne bowed there heads and raised there hands like disgruntled school children now forced by the reality of the
situation to submit to there teacher's unconquerable will. No man spoke again in protest or to continue there hopeless futile contest with Eldarian but
simply nodded all at once even Keol new to the accustomed ways of the lords of the white city and left the room single file. They now had two weeks to
prepare for the most climactic duel between the forces of the kings and the might of Mordor since Aragorn Elessar set out to meet Sauron's armies in battle
for the last time. No hope could there be felt in such a contest of light and dark while a dark lord still walked the earth willing to do battle. The fact
that Morgoth was willing to lay his own life on the line was not only impressive but also undeniably terrifying. Not even Sauron had dared to fight in
single combat following his duel with Isildur during the battle of the last alliance on the slopes of Orodruin Mount Doom itself. The days flew by with
occasional meetings of war referring to the number of troops that they could muster in time to assail the dark bastion of Morgoth. They knew that it would
take a few days to reach the black land so the do date for the mobilization and assembling of men was around three or four days before the schedule set
by Morgoth was intended to end on that fortnight ominously on the minds of both captain of the white tower and the black. At last the day of departure
finally arrived. Those records pertaining to the parting of Mablung and Morwin have on since been lost or destroyed but we can easily guess how bitter
that parting was seeing only shadow ahead and sorrow behind. After many tears from wife and gentle maiden to loved husband and son where exchanged the
last host of the west left the gates of the white city and descended deep in to the heart of the territories commanded by the enemy. The dusty plane where
Osgiliath once stood and later the battle plain of Degorlad before the black gate where all emptied of the vial orcs and men under the service of Morgoth
save for the spying small squat goblins that seldom appeared along the winding paths towards the black land of Mordor. At the cross roads near to the ruins
of Minas Morgul several of these smaller demonic orcs could be seen scouring about, there noses often down to the earth sniffing for some trace of the
great press of men on foot and mounted on mighty steeds but no stealth of the lords of Eldarian could have shrouded there movements. The overwhelming weight
of Morgoth's mind threw the Palantir could almost be felt searching for them threw space and matter to examine all there movements all there last minute
councils. The eye of the dark lord was like an ever present cloud that festered over head far above the earth hovering over all a portentous presence of
malaise so poignant and incommunicably strong that it filled all hearts pessimistic or optimistic under a gloom of despair inescapable and unpreventable.
As the lords of the west finally stepped foot on Degorlad and beheld the Moranin the black gate all noticed the tower beyond vast beyond imagining rising
like a pillar of smoke but far more solid and less remote. It was the newly built Barad Dur and from its pinnacle blazed a fire radiant as the son but
more depressing of an icon and it did not give men warmth. To the contrary under that blaze all creatures even goblins even Barrow Whites felt the icy
chill of the sorcerer's presence. To feel that mind upon you was like jumping in to a cold lake or pond after lying out on the sand. The sheer magnitude
of that icy chilly sensation was enough to draw the breath from your lungs and leave you stunned with helplessness before becoming acclimated to it. Over
time the servants of Morgoth began to feel the spying eye of there master with out shuttering with fear and enmity against the shadow. Soon according to
Morgoth's plans all the lands of Middle Earth would feel that cold biting gaze of his mind seeking the land for traitors and enforcers of his will alike
sending them warnings or threats when they lest wished for that kind of cruel sadistic motivation. But just as the soldiers of the white tree and the horseman
of the mark grew to tolerate the overwhelming might of Morgoth's mind they noticed another strange thing. The Black Gate was wide open standing there like
a large mouth gaping threateningly between the old towers of the teeth witch had been reconstructed from the bricks that had once made up there original
ramparts in infrastructure in the days of the war of the ring. All hope left the most optimistic men who had some how fought off the will of the shadow
from near and far. This was a challenge witch clearly spelled out there deaths in an ominously covert manner witch Sauron was so apt to contrive to scare
many of his foes in to submission. Who could say whether this wizard was stronger or weaker. On the out set the answer was assuredly stronger but looking
back on those days not even the wisest can now tell. Slowly like prisoners headed reluctantly to the gallows the soldiers of Eldarian and Elfwine strode
threw the open gate and in to the land of Mordor completely forlorn and abandoned by the fire that had driven them to great deeds before. Even the kings
seemed to slump in there saddles staring up at the red glow of Barad Dur's pinnacle with the dying resigned excepting e of man headed straight towards
certain doom. The dusty air choked the foot soldiers forcing many of those unhappy soles to cough and gasp sucking slurping down the rest of there water
in canteens hanging from coarse leather bands around there belts or from back packs that dragged behind like unwilling beasts pulling dismounted men closer
and closer to the ground. They had packed far too many provisions for a journey that would perhaps lead only too the doors of the dark tower but not back
again. When they all reached the iron doors of the tower carved with runes in black speech to faded and weathered to read in that gloomy place Eldarian
leapt off his steed and violently knocked on the doors' surface crying out in a loud voice masking any fear bottled up deep inside "Morgoth enemy of the
free peoples of Middle Earth I have come with my army as was agreed upon and I hear by except your challenge." "Let us first fight in single combat and
then allow our armies to clash together as was promised." "You swore by the name of Iluvitar that you would do so." "If you do not come forth from your
fortress then all the hosts of Mordor and Gondor, and Rohan and Anor will now for sure that you are craven." "If beyond will not meet me in single combat
all will now that you are week and too fearful to draw blade against your foes." "Come forth or be thought a coward." For a long while all men who stood
by thought that Morgoth would not come from his tower but then something strange happened unforeseen. High above threw the top most window of Barad Dur
the fire light of the dark lord's gaze died away and faded to darkness. Then deep with in the heart of the main fortress on witch the tower was set the
sounds of marching feet could be heard followed by the blaring of a horn remote but not faint. Hearing the foes of Mordor about to be let loose upon the
army of the west Eldarian and Elfwine told Mablung and other lesser generals to give the order to head back several yards to make room for the coming military
might of the dark lord. Just as the entire force had stepped back almost a hundred yards farther then was originally planned the doors where flung open
revealing only a black bottomless cave like entrance threw witch no living thing could be spotted in the darkness that had always lain under the black
roofs of the tower of sorcery. But nevertheless sounds could be heard not distant but all to present. The cries of goblins and the chanting of thousands
of men could clearly be made out. More horns could also be heard and the tramp of running feet upon hard stone unseen. Then all went silent once more for
one all too brief a minute before all that was hidden by the shadow was revealed. At last out of the darkness came many goblins in full armor and even
more cruel looking men all baring on there shields and helms the symbol of the blue hand clasping the snake. Behind them appeared trolls enormous and wicked
in appearance holding crudely cut clubs along with war Mumakil or Oliphaunts as they are also called in the north by the little people. It took a full
thirty minutes for the black host of the blue hand and serpent to get in to battle formation but all that while they did not assail the captains of the
west who kept there eyes fix on the army now before them searching for the dark lord himself. Seeing now wizard or gigantic shadowy demon any where among
the host Eldarian finally asked the tallest ugly goblin appearing to organizing the soldiery of the dark tower "Where is your lord who has challenged me
to battle?" The orc smiled revealing black gums and a few rotten teeth and growled in a deep terrible voice "He is coming." "he will be arriving with in
the minute." The orc who had shouted these tidings from yards away was swiftly knocked aside by another goblin who drew his black sword and slew the captain
of the black host. The murderer rose to his full stature and screamed to the army at his back "Any one who even says a word concerning the business of
our master will meet a similar fate understand." The entire military might of the dark lord nodded in unison and then stood perfectly still as though awaiting
another command. Mablung had never seen an army of orcs so disciplined. Then with out any hint that a command had been given the army of goblins, men and
other evil folk of Mordor 41 began to reform there battle formation to leave a wide path from the entrance to the dark fortress to the lords of the west
who stood still dumfounded. From the shadow of the doorway heavy footsteps could be heard like to those of a giant out of the mountains. The echo of those
footsteps sounded to Elfwine like the drums of the wild men of the forests on the borders of Gondor as was described to him out of the red book of the
hobbits but this time the thumping noises of those heavy footfalls where far more sinister sounding and ominous. At last threw the gloom of the open entrance
to that dark fortress Barad Dur a light could now be seen pale and wonderful. It shone white and clearer then the brilliance of the moon and remote stars.
As the light grew so too did the sound of those terrible footfalls until the outline of an enormous figure with a bright flame on his forehead could be
seen. From that siluwet rang a hideous and loathsome voice more man like then the sound of the words of the Barrow whites and masking a far more corrupt
power stronger and perhaps more wiser then the wickedness of Sauron but equally as evil. At the sound of that voice doubts even more powerful and indescribably
poignant where struck deep in to the hearts and minds of all who listened. Only the elf lords of old or the Valar themselves could have escaped the sheer
incommunicable power of that voice that overthrew reason, logic, and even wisdom leaving men stricken down under there own anxieties until life was unbearable
but the prospect of death to frightful to face. Despair was the worst weapon in Morgoth's arsenal and threw his servants he found something like pleasure
threw spreading it and allowing it to conquer mankind's ability to resist and endure hardships. Now the weight of that hateful voice filled with malaise
and contempt for the descendents of Eol and the lords of Numenor would be put to the test. "I am hear king Eldarian" the voice mocked in a tone that betrayed
a hint of grim satisfaction. "Today the western lands of your filthy peoples shall fall under my jurisdiction" the shadow declared intent on shattering
the remnants of the soldier's moral who stood behind the lords Elfwine, Eldarian, Elboron, and last of all Mablung his hand resting firmly on his swords'
hilt. "Before I rashly slay you all I think it only proper to offer you the choice Sauron gave to Aragorn and his companions" the voice snarled smugly
echoingly from the darkness of that accursed doorway. "You may swear oaths never to assail my lands open or in secret and to except me as god and overlord
over all of Middle earth until the day all of you must die." Eldarian looked as though he was going to say something but no sound came from his trembling
lips. It was Mablung who strode towards the entrance to the dark towered fortress before halting crying out "None of us will submit to you or your representatives."
"I and my liege lords have not passed threw fire, destruction, and battles who's stories shall be sung in ballads long remembered only to drop at your
knees." "I am afraid but I know that there are worst fates then death thralldom under an unjust lord like yourself Morgoth being one of them." "I know
as do my friends that some day we shall all die but we would rather die hear for a higher cause so that our deaths' will have some meaning rather then
to perish in some dark whole far from light far from hope far from family and lost in pain and regret instead of flushing out you." "Unlike the other ages
of middle earth this age will not end with this duel but will only continue." "You and all those who follow at your command will be forgotten by many save
in the history books as a reminder of how we few stood against numerous foes and still despite the odds won freedom for us and our families." "Come out
now and show yourself and if you be not deathless my king will at the very least humiliate you before your mighty army or if he won't slay you then I shall."
In that moment Mablung drew his sword and waved it above his head three times as a gesture of defiance and hope to contest the shadow. All the men who
stood near cheered and clashed weapon against decorated shield while chanting his name as they had not so long before but this time in many different tongues.
For a brief instant the host of Morgoth wavered and turned from the glances they received from the captains of the west taunting them as the dark lord
had done to Eldarian. When the excitement died down to an endless murmur the cold evil voice less potent now that its spell had been broken said evidently
clearly displeased "My challenge was intended not for you Mablung but for your king." "Fight me Eldarian as you have boldly claimed you would." And with
that last remark the king of the Dunidain ran from his steed's side unsheathed blade in hand and strode to meet the darkness head on. From the sword Anduril
flickered a perilous light more keen then the brilliance of other blades forged long afterwards but no less powerful. To meet the king came out of the
gloom the form of a terrible shadowy person all in black armor from head to foot baring a staff on who's head was attached a spear tip as well as a long
black sword not as bright as Anduril but equally as magnificent and magical. The dark lord's face was covered by his helm's visor who's eye slits revealed
no fiery glow but merely impenetrable depthless blackness. The top of the helm was fashioned to look like a crown in the midst of witch burned the silmaril
blazing more keen then the brilliance of Anduril's native light. In one blinding flash the sword of the king of the white city cut the staff in two leaving
a blinding explosion that threw the sorcerer on his back before recovering just in time to block a stroke that would have decapitated him. The two lords
locked in mortal combat where so stunning to behold that in after days shields of Gondor and Anor would bare the engraved picture of the dark lord his
blade swirling in a frenzy of rapid deadly strokes fighting with the bold king baring Anduril glowing with a beautiful pale light only slightly less brilliant
then the gleam of the Silmaril upon the crown of his determined foe. Long both armies standing on either side of the competition had stood astounded watching
the duel but now they began to cheer and yammer in there different tongues encouraging remarks to there leaders. Keol who had been standing behind Elfwine
in the vanguard of the Roherim's supporting military force along side the Gondorians yelled comments like "Crush that beaconed helmeted fool to the ground"
referring to the silmaril that shone on the enemy's crown as well as remarks like "Slash and slay the foe" or more frequently "Show no mercy." The goblins
shouted war cries in there strange tongues while hitting the earth rhythmically with there spears thus creating a catchy song mixed with animalistic growls
or grunts that might have been the chief topic of amusement for the captains of the west if the entire fate of middle earth wasn't hanging in the balance
before there very eyes in a fencing match of epic proportions. The two contestants fought unceasingly attempting to out do one another with decisive cuts
of there blades but all blows that ever came close to slaying one of the warriors soon was blocked allowing the battle to continue as it had for minutes
with out any side showing signs of imminent defeat. With out his staff the sorcerer could not dispatch his enemy quickly and with out support from his
friends strictly forbidden by the rules of such a contest of arms Eldarian was going to slip eventually. All knew that the battle would drag on until the
king of the western lands of the Dunidain fell or the dark lord was slain. Sure the Gondorians would continue to struggle on if the son of Elessar perished
but if the fire of the orc's hearts was ignited to sudden flame then the forces of light would be drowned out by determination and sheer numbers. Eldarian
was feeling his limbs slow there vicious pace allowing room for error. He had to try and end the battle quick or he was going to slip and be left mortally
wounded or slain on the spot instantly. He remembered Elfwine's battle with the barrow white and wondered if he could throw his opponent off balance and
pin him down just as the lord of the mark had done earlier in the war. Unlike the king of Rohan though he vowed to not let his enemy slip away. The king
of the white city fainted two hard blows towards the sorcerer's neck before bringing his blade down to run the dark lord threw the stomach with Anduril.
Side stepping the thrust the wizard waved his blade in a upward motion blocking another blow from Eldarian and then struck sideways in the direction of
the king's sword arm rather then the blade itself. Just pulling his arm back in time to avoid being handicapped fore life Eldarian leapt aside like the
sorcerer had moments before but this time fainted a stroke to the dark lord's left leg before brining Anduril upward to cut off the dark lord's free hand.
Not expecting this odd move Morgoth could only stand in horror as his left hand clasping no blade fell to the ground. Swaying to his right side in shock
the dark lord only missed a two handed blow from his adversary that might have finished off the sorcerer fore good. Crying out in torment and distress
the shadowy armored figure of the enemy rose up to his full height making the king appear small in comparison. Morgoth darted around Eldarian nimbly and
drove his black blade in to the king only just as he turned to face his foe. All could see that the blade of the sorcerer was poking out of Eldarian's
stomach the king's red blood poring like rain on to the dusty soil where the hand of the enemy still lay. It was in this instant that Mablung noticed that
the king still bore the flower from the white tree witch had caused so much laughter before Keol entered the council. Despite the fact that the flower
was now two weeks old it still gleamed white like the Silmaril a jewel of nature still clinging on to the color of life refusing to fade to brown and wither
away. As the dark lord drew his blade out of Eldarian lifting it up to slay the king there on the spot with one final stroke Mablung ran to his lord king's
side and wrenched the blade Anduril from the dying king's hands. Before the dark lord could do any thing about it the general took Eldarian's ancestral
sword and sliced off the Sorcerer's head. Slowly the body fell to its knees and at last slumped to the earth beside his severed hand and before the king
of the Dunidain as though doing homage to the warrior that had just given him so much pain but had not taken his life. Before Mablung could call fore medical
attention fore his king a squat small tracker orc cam running up to him holding a wicked looking dagger in one hand and the fallen dark lord's head in
another the silmaril still shining on the sever head's crown. The general drew out a knife from his own belt and began to fight the tracker goblin with
his remaining strength. At last after missing several quick thrusts from the dagger of his foe Mablung stuck his knife deep in to the monster's chest its
dark blood increasing the pool of blood they where all now lying in. Why the foolish orc attacked the general with his fallen lord's head is still unknown.
I personally believe that the goblin was trying to carry off the silmaril fore himself but could not cut it with his own dagger and so decided to use Anduril
witch might be strong enough being a blade from the first age to cut the stone free of the crown of the sorcerer. The sword Anduril was ironically at Mablung's
side making him the only obstacle in the way of taking the blade. Others have other opinions witch I dare not mention fore fear of spiraling in to a wave
of criticism that would halt the main narrative of this story. It was after this encounter that Mablung cut the silmaril from Morgoth's iron crowned helm
with Anduril and dared to look upon the face of his foe. Underneath the visor was a face hideous to behold. The eyes of the enemy where simply black as
though the wizard had no irises but only pupils. The teeth of the magician where rotten as an orcs and the skin of the wizard was all lined and wrinkled
with age. The beard of the enemy was as black as his eyes and so was his long straight hair. Although Morgoth had only just died he looked as though he
had been dead fore years a walking corpse who's sole would never find the west until the end of days. From the dead figure's corpse Mablung saw that familiar
shadowy cloud rise and turn to the land of Valenor but just as it had been with Saruman and the wizard of the far Eastern army a chill wind blew the cloud
in to the east. Thus passed Morgoth mightiest of the foes of the free peoples of Middle Earth since Sauron. Eldarian was carried off the field of battle
and attended to by the best lords knowledgeable in herb lore like Elboron while the rest of the army fought and destroyed every orc left alive on the
plane of Mordor. Only the Easternlings out of all the hosts of the enemy surrendered laying down there arms and begging pardon for what they had done.
It is said that they where allowed to go back in to the East after swearing oaths to never assail the lords of the west ever again or allow there sons
or there sons fight for any other foe of the white tower. Wiping the dirt and grime from his hands Mablung looked up at the stars of Elberith shining threw
the black fumes of Mordor that arose from Mount Doom and smiled. Putting the Silmaril in his pocket the general realized that no matter what happened after
this he had at the very least rid the world of a tyrant and had saved his family and all the peoples of Middle Earth from enslavement. The Sorcerer's war
had ended by his own hand. The only problem the white city would now face other then the clean up of Mordor was whether they would have a king in the morning.
Only time would tell. Mablung got to his feet and left the corpse of the enemy Morgoth lying there with out giving one last glance at the body. The fate
of Eldarian was his concern now. He would not bask in his glory until he knew fore certain that his friend was slain or would recover. Then the general
remembered that he left Anduril his king's sword and returned to the site of the battle. When he found the blade he lifted it over his head even as Eldarian
had done and bore it away with him out of the wreckage of the black land to the tent of the king where he found his friends.
Greater than
Greater than Chapter Eight

While news of the battle was spreading far and wide and the fame of Mablung increased overnight the king Eldarian was attended to by more healers out
of Minas Anor who flocked to the black land to save there lord. Days had passed since the struggle but still do to the power of the silmaril witch Mablung
gave to the king Eldarian was able to cling on to life. Using the books of herb lore that escaped the wreck of Imladris or Rivendel as it is also called
the healers of the white tower where able to miraculously save there king's life and cast any chance of certain death aside. It is rumored that the herbs
used to revive the ring barer where also found in the countryside's of Gondor especially in those lands where the Dunidain once dwelt in the south kingdom.
Among those herbs was Athallis or kingsfoil witch the king Elessar used to heal master Maridoc Brandybuck, Faramir, and the lady Eowin from the black breath.
After preventing Eldarian from loosing too much blood and allowing the wound to heal the herb Athallis would aid him from slipping back in to unconsciousness
and despair. Another curious and most interesting fortunate discovery was made by the healers when examining the king's sword wound. Many people had feared
that dust or grime would enter the king's stomach when the blade passed threw his body increasing a risk of infection that might lead to death. Luckily
the blade of the dark lord was well taken care of and not actually more dangerous then most ordinary blades save fore its ability to easily cut and mane
persons and objects like Anduril. No magic of illness or death outside of the wielder's control could be evident from the runes on the sword's hilt. No
sign of infection was found anywhere inside the wound just after the injury was sustained disproving any assumptions that the wound was mortal do to any
infection that might follow the actually heeling of the injury itself. It is recounted in the books of lore that only the combined magic of the Silmaril
and the knowledge of Elrond as written in his books saved the king and that with out these vital tools towards success Eldarian probably died. I personally
agree with this assessment of the facts considering that any other individual who received such a terrible injury excluding the mystical support Eldarian
received treated with what meager herb lore doctor's know now in comparison would have been fatal. When the hope and health he named Mablung the new chief
of his personal guard and high military advisor of the throne for life as well as personal councilor of the crown as well. With these new offices came
not only lordship over new tracks of land but great responsibility to govern the relations between the men of Morgoth now bound by there oaths never to
assail the lord of the white tower as well as to clean up Mordor witch was now littered with the shallow graves of soldiers of both sides and who's dark
tower still ominously stood hiding another palantir witch might be useful in maintaining the kingdoms of Anor and Gondor. News came from legions sent to
aid Arahad that all of the north kingdom was almost practically free of the goblins and other bests like trolls and giants who had quite recently roamed
the wild in the days of the darkness. But besides all this good luck bad news came regarding the hobbits who still dwelt in the Shire. Many of them had
been driven from there homes by an invasion out of Angmar to avenge Sauron and the Witch King. Now few of the Halflings where left alive and those who
escaped to the Gondorian troops where hardly safer then when they had been at home during the conflict. When the war was over those few who remained traveled
southward to Ithillian where they established a new shire in witch many of the children of Sam, marry, and Pippin all helped act as lords over tiny estates
linked together by a loyalty to Eldarian. The shire they had known in the days of there youth was now no more. Bree and Buckland where wastelands full
of memories of war who's inhabitance also headed south under the protection of the crown of the two kingdoms and much money was spent by the king to aid
these desperate refugees. The dwarves suffered grievously from this last war. During there flight to the glittering caves or to the blue mountains where
they hid there population drastically decreased. It has been said that the population of the dwarves increases slowly since many dwarves simply don't Mary
being engrossed in there crafts. During a war like then one I have been recounting almost none of the dwarf folk of the glittering caves or the blue mountains
married at all producing no children what so ever to carry on the existence of there kind. Soon there won't be any dwarves left in the mountains or in
caves save fore a select hand few that will die out. The Elvish folk are passing in to legend and in to myth. Will the same thing happen to the little
folk of the Halflings and the dwarves? Will there come a day in the future when all those men who remain believe no Hobbits or dwarves ever existed? Not
even the wisest among us can now tell. Towards the end of Eldarian's recovery all of the black land was cleared of the corpses of Mumakil, trolls, giants,
Goblins, and men and an enormous mound was raised over them on witch no grass now grows. On it is set a large stone marking the date of the battle and
all its known participants. Both creatures of light and dark have been placed together to remember that no matter what back round or kind of being we are
good or evil we are all members in a greater conflict the struggle to live in an ever changing world made for our inhabitance by our creator. The dark
tower of Barad Dur was throne down and its foundations obliterated by explosives. Unfortunately no one dared to climb the stares that lead up to the pinnacle
of the tower. If the Palantir was still yup there and not hidden away somewhere is still a mystery. But even after all these events where laid to rest
and weeks had past since the last battle had been fought there remained one last task to be completed one last errand that had to reach its fulfillment
before the filth of Morgoth could be finally swept away leaving only a vague shadow behind.
Greater than
Greater than Epilog
The sea was swirling in an frenzy of blue and green rising to new waves only to crash down in to oblivion once again far out from the shore line far
far away. Mablung sat in an intricately carven wooden chair watching the beauty of the ocean's display of awesome power greater then the Bastian of the
enemy, more magnificent then the mighty tower of Ecthellian in Gondor, this was nature's marvelous glory at its maximum unpredictable height of splendor.
This was the true essence of nature's unstoppable eventual power over man's inability to control any thing around him. Kingdoms rise and fall like waves
thought the general, advisor, and honorary guard of the king. But this ever lasting beauty of nature of the sea before my very eyes this is permanent.
Not even the shadow can dissolve its glory but only act as tributary to its splendor unmarred by time or the small doings of mortals. At last Mablung heard
the foot steps of his personal guard of soldiers marching on the hard wooden deck of the vessel. He turned to face his men coming up out of a stare well
that ran bellow to the living quarters and smiled. All of them looked anxious. The had be assigned to follow there lord with no clear idea of why they
where sailing far from home. With them also came the king Eldarian, Elboron, and Elfwine king of the mark. The mission there lords where engaged in was
top secret and none knew where they where headed. Mablung got straight to the point. He did not speak with condescension or lack of humility but with only
kindness as a friend might address another friend in a casual business tone running to work. "Searching threw the library of Minas Anor our new capital
city I and a few other scholars have made an amazing discovery looking fore documents that might reveal more about herb lore to help speed up our good
king's recovery." “Long ago during the first age during the reign of Melcor calling himself Morgoth in who's example later walked Sauron and another sorcerer
of great power, some mortal men fought with the elves against the shadow and won fame as heroes in after days." "One such hero was Turin Turambar master
of doom who was cursed by the enemy and forced to live under the shadow of that curse until his death." "In the face of unstoppable odds he won countless
victories but threw the curse of his foe and his own rashness at times not to mention his indomitable pride he suffered many defeats as well." "After slaying
Glowraung the first dragon he slew himself discovering that his wife was actually his sister who forgot her true identity and committed suicide believing
that he was slain by the dragon in single combat." "Even after the lands where they once dwelt sank beneath the waves the memorial of Turin's labors his
grave and the grave oaf Morwin his mother still stands protected by the Valar." "No man knew its location until a mariner of Numenor stumbled across it
searching fore a route back home." ""Knowing exactly where he was he drew a crude map and later drew the map once again more clearly in order to place
it in the library of the city." "Why on earth the mariner did not share his remarkable findings with the world is unknown but we have retrieved the map."
"We plan to reach that island and there place the silmaril on the grave stone that lies there rather then continue to hide the holy gem for our selves."
"Wars unending have been fought to recapture the Silmarils and to possess them would only bring death and destruction to there owner." "I and the king
believe that we should not even keep the one silmaril that has come in to our possession and would rather give it to the Valar but since Valenor is inaccessible
we shall leave them the jewel of Feanor where they can find it best." The heads of the guards nodded approvingly despite the fact they felt as though turned
to stone with amazement as well as excitement. Some of them whispered to one another fore hours and hours spying the horizon fore the small island smaller
then the size of there kitchen floors back home baring the grave marker of one of the most famous warrior's who's tragedy had been recounted thousands
of times over. Just as the men where loosing hope a faint dot appeared in the midst of the blue green waves a speck hardly visible but definitely present.
Slowly it grew like a miniscule cell gradually becoming clearer under the magnifying lens of a microscope or like a star grows in size and clarity threw
a powerful carefully welded telescope. All above deck could see the black weathered stone baring carvings to remote to read atop a mound of earth that
spread out fore a few yards before sinking back in to the murky depths of the ocean. The look out cried out sending all the lords bellow deck to come rushing
up to gaze at the magnificent mysterious illusive stone of the hapless the grave of Turin with wide eyes. Dropping anchor along side the stone after sailing
close enough Mablung, the steward and the two kings stepped on to the hollowed ground of the grave and looked intently at the carvings in the black stone
before there stunned faces. The runes where elvish and they read "Hear lies Turin Turambar, Morwin Elethwin, and Neanor" but it is said that Neanor Turin's
sister does not lie there but perished not so far away. All the lords and the men aboard the ship bowed out of respect at the stone as though it where
the actual warrior Turin himself standing above them. Slowly but irresistibly Eldarian lifted the shining jewel the Silmaril out of his tunic pocket and
placed at the stone's flat top murmuring a prayer under his breath witch only those who stood closest to him heard and would not tell afterwards. As the
four lords climbed aboard there ship it seemed to them that the black head stone appeared to be a great light house who's beacon shone bright and clear
a tiny spec of light that flickered in the fading sun light as night drew closer. In front of his men Mablung said "You may tell your families what you
have seen but no other persons besides." "What you've seen never happened understand?" "We can't risk any one knowing exactly where the jewel now lies
except the Valar." All heads nodded submissively and then turned back to the glowing gem atop the stone of the hapless with pure and unashamed expressions
of longing and sorrow on there faces. Even Mablung was touched with regret that they had to abandon the silmaril but it was there duty to prevent war and
desire of the jewel among other kings in distant lands from tearing apart all that had been rebuilt following so much suffering and bloodshed. As the ship
sailed away the sun set behind the waves leaving only the glow of the silmaril and the stars and moon to light there way back home. How that shining lantern
that beacon of eternal bliss the Silmaril shone bright even miles away. A tiny speck just as the stone of the hapless had been the grave of Turin. Gradually
the jewel's brilliance gleaming at the last like a distant star on the edge of mortal sight twinkled out leaving only the shadow of night and the sounds
of crashing waves. Mablung lifted the aged wrinkled map to the grave cite and the jewel and reluctantly ripped it to shreds tossing it in to black rushing
water below. Turning to the dark shores of Middle Earth now materializing out of the gloom he saw the lights of houses remote yet clear and whispered to
himself so that no one could hear him "I'm going home."

The End

Author's Note

Most of what I have written is very accurate save for a few points witch I will address. I doubt looking back on my work that Faramir could have outlived
Aragorn since the steward of Elessar only lived to one hundred and twenty while Aragorn lived far beyond that life span well over one hundred and fifty
years especially when you take in to account that the son of Arathorn was actually in his late eighties during the war of the ring being of Numenorian
blood. Also I mention a goats path and a mound memorializing the ride of the Roherrim. That was never described in the appendices. Threw out my work I
mention plate armor witch is seen in the films directed by peter Jackson but not in any of Tolkien's own books. Often a mighty climatic battle is also
attributed to the close of an age. If you thought that this final battle on the plane of Mordor was the end of the fourth age then I understand why you
would think so but a grater climax would be prepared fore the end of that age of the world. Morgoth Melcor would have escaped during a time of festival
and would have been followed by the Valar to Middle Earth where he would have been recaptured. In that struggle the shape of the world would have been
changed separating the continents and slaying almost all the men of the line of Numenor even the descendents of Eldarian. The dwarves, hobbits and few
dwarves that remained would have been obliterated save fore little over a thousand of each culture witch would have intermarried with lesser mortals or
would have simply died out over time. that battle the wild men of the east would Rome across the few land bridges between the continents and would have
settled the lands leaving no traces of there ancient existence among the Dinosaurs. I also use the name of Iluvitar witch shoes up only in the Silmarrillion
and never in the lord of the rings and I have the foundations of the dark tower endure despite the fact that they where supposedly made with the power
of the one ring and at its unmaking could have plausibly been destroyed according to the encyclopedia of Arda. Despite these alterations I hope you have
enjoyed my story and are willing to learn more about Tolkien's secondary world of Middle Earth. I set out writing this work believing that the construction
of an entertaining sequel to the works of Tolkien could be managed. I earnestly hope that you where able to take part in the cycle of histories and forgotten
peoples of Middle Earth in a brand knew light threw this follow up book fore devoted fans like myself. Thank you


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Tales of The Fourth Age

APENDIX A

The Secret of Saruman

Author's Note

The following Story is an elaboration of the story called "The Disaster of the Gladen fields" concerning the remains of Isildur that lay at the river bed
of the Anduin for many years until researches in to the grate warrior's fate were made in the Grate River to discover the ring. Little did the seekers
of Isengard know that the ring had already been found by Gollum as is told elsewhere. You can read “The Disaster of the Gladen Fields" in Unfinished Tales
being the first unfinished narrative under the Subheading "The Third Age."

Long before the war of the ring but still during the Third Age Saruman the corrupt wizard of Isengard read much about ring lore hoping to gain power like
to that of Sauron of Mordor. In his studies he learned of the fate of Isildur the Numenorian who cut the ring from the enemy's hand but perished with it
after being assailed near the Gladen by numerous Orcs who shot him in the river Anduin. After Treebeard the eldest of all the Ents let him go, the Estari
helped to scar the Shire by attempting to turn the land of the Halflings in to and industrial nightmare but was slain by his servant Greamer wormtongue
who had long been abused by his ruthless master. Hop8ing to learn more about Isengard and what secrets it might hold Aragorn King Elessar lord of the Dunidain
went with Gimli the dwarf in to the wizard's tower of Orthanc and hear follows an account of what followed inside the hidden chambers of the most learned
but terrible Estari to have lived in a letter written by Gimli the dwarf to his friend Legolas who remained in Minas Anor.

"To my dear friend Legolas." "You and your fellow beardless elves were sorely missed." "I need not tell you how Aragorn and myself shrunk with fright cowering
before those blasted front doors in to the depths of Orthanc." "Even I boldest of my folk felt the icy chill of fear crawl up my spine and I looked to
our noble king standing there dressed in filthy old rangers clothes staring intently up at the highest windows of the tower that loomed menacingly above
us like black eyes glaring directly at us." "Why the hell you wanted to stay with your other friends among the young trees laughing and singing all day
not guessing the spells that awaited us set upon Orthanc is far beyond my comprehension." was "Too long have I missed your gentle words and strong bow."
"At last we approached the doors up a winding flight of stairs remodeled by my fellow hearty dwarves from the caves and together we swung open the doors
after inserting the keys in to an iron lock that was of a rather dwarvish style I must say." "Just as the doors parted to reveal an elegantly carven stone
doorway a mist seemed to appear seeming to rise up to greet us in a way like the spirit of the dead wizard himself but just as soon as the mist arrived
it departed threw a dark vent that doubtlessly led in to chambers below our noisome feet." "No magic was present that we could see our touch but my dwarves
and Aragorn felt a sense of unwelcome vigilance spying down on them from a place high up in the tower hanging over head like a cloud of impending doom"
""I must have been some what stronger for now shadow crept over my heart so easily but a sense of unease was obviously present of course for no friend
of the king could be allowed to pass threw those doors bewith out being reminded of that cursed corrupted loathsome mad fool who once abode in Orthanc daring
to serve and at the same time betray the might of Mordor." ""Ghosts of an oppression long bitterly fought against still dwell or should I say haunt the
halls of the black tower of the wizard and always the memory of the men of Rohan lying slain before the gate of the Hornburg clouded my mind." "The blood
of the innocent children of the Mark slain in villages and countryside's across Rohan stains this place." "The spirit of the murderous Orc Breeder is
trapped hear for eternity for the West is shut against him and the East still hides the wondering spirit of Sauron whom he long ago crossed when he attempted
to find and keep the ruling ring." "I need not inform you of all the rooms and antechambers of that wondrous but evil place but what indeed followed on
the upper floors must be told for it was of enormous interest." "You see my jolly old elf we climbed up the stares of the tower until we reached a circular
chamber at the very top tier of Orthanc." "In the midst of that room was placed a large throne of a kind of dark stone in witch was carven many intricate
runes in elvish, dwarvish, and in the tongues of men and this is what it said Legolas or close enough." "I am the white hand of the earth master of all."
"With my enduring powers that have come over the sea I rule for the welfare of the lesser folk of Middle Earth." "All those who aid my bastion of might
Isengard and her lord will be saved from the fiery wrath of my hand but all those who's policies are set against my will must be crushed." "I alone am
overlord." "I alone am king of Arda." "By my white hand life springs for the ring by right is mine and not Sauron's." "I alone have claim to power." "I
alone am the master." Reading these runes my resolve nearly broke asunder and even Aragorn cringed along with his workers of men and my own folk." "Three
passages with more cursed runes too dim to make out lead eastward and we have fully explored them." "Inside the middle passage way that was of prime interest
since it alone bore the white hand of Saruman was searched first and inside were piled chests stacked upon chests filled to the brim with gold, crates
set upon crates with all kinds of artifacts of ancient origins and all were clearly stolen or smuggled out of the world." ""Some of the things I saw were
from the elder days." "In one large wooden box were neatly set knives forged by Telchar of Nogrod and in another box was laid maps of Numenor that survived
the downfall from the library of Minas Anor." "On shelves high as an ent were set books written by hands of elves who passed over the sundering seas long
ago." ""One closet had blades that came out of Gondolin like Glamdring and Sting." "Also in that secluded spot were necklaces and diamond studded swords
of the Edain witch could have only been taken from burial mounds in the Barrow Downs of the north." "But that was not all." "On a high shelf far above
our heads was placed the Dragon Helm of Dorlomen that Turin bore aloft but whether it was the actual helm itself or only a replica not even Aragorn can
clearly say." "Just when we all were about to turn back something caught my eye from the end of the hall and I forced the company to halt." "The stone
wall that appeared to be a dead end at the end of the hall was in fact not a wall but a door of solid black shining rock like to the very stone of witch
the tower itself was shaped and formed." ""The door was locked and no sign of key hole or knob could be seen but the clear outline of a round entrance
to a passage way was visible the likeness of a door that could have been easily been overlooked in the lightless treasury of Saruman." "My dwarves took
picks and hammers out of there bags and there men counterparts assisted them by pressing there ears to the rock door listening for any week point in its
structure that could be over come by brute force but all our efforts were futile and our tools were bent and ruined so that there are no more picks or
hammers left among us." "At last we heard the slightest echo in one corner of the door and with the hilt end of one of Telchar's ancient knives that the
wizard stole we broke threw a thin layer of stone blocking a small key hole for the steel of the elf sires of old can not be rivaled by even the toughest
metal work of the dwarves though I am loathed to admit it." "Then we had to find the blasted key." "We looked in every container of sorts in the treasury
but no key that could be found fit the tiny hole now hardly visible in that gloomy place." "Then we searched the throne room and just when we were about
to give up Aragorn sat down on the royal looking seat and behold." "To our amazement a small compartment like a drawer flung out of one of the arm rests
and with in it could clearly be seen a black very ancient looking weathered beaten key crudely forged by Goblin hands." "Swiftly we rushed back to the
treasury that we had only just left and placed the key in the black door's hole and to our wonder and gratification it fit perfectly." "With in an instant
the ominous black door of grate thickness and height swung open upon unseen hinges." "I think that Dwarves or men of Numenor made this door rather then
Orcs for no beast could have contrived such a clever and intricate peace of machinery and not just furniture alone." "The opening of the black door revealed
a small closet that bore no clothing or valuables save for two items glittering brilliantly in the darkness placed carefully on a lofty shelf that I couldn't
reach." ""Aragorn was the first person to pass me and at last pick up the items that lay on the shelf although afterwards he was not the last among the
company to do so for he handed them to all of the company before excepting them back in to his keeping." "One of the two objects was a container on a fine
chain that clearly should have born the one ring but the ring was long destroyed and the other object was a bright stone in a circlet that burned with
a keen light like to that of the gems of Moria or like to the fiery light of the Archen stone but stronger and more radiant." "Aragorn said to all of us
that it was the Elendilmir the circlet that was the sign of royalty in the north kingdom and that it was lost with Isildur when he perished at the Gladen
Fields." "The chain and container were also Isildur's but the ring had been lost in the Anduin." "How Saruman discovered these items is clear." "When he
was looking fore the ring he found the bones of Isildur and stole the Elendilmir and the case and chain that would have born the precious ring of the enemy."
"Aragorn thinks that the bones were burnt in the fires of the machines of Orthanc to feed the hungry furnaces that allowed the engines of the tower to
operate." "If this is so it was an evil deed but clearly not the worst of that craven but terrible foe." "No more can be said of this disturbing topic."
"I hope to see you Legolas Green Leaf soon and hope that we may go on no more adventures regarding the shadow of the lord of the black tower of Isengard
or Mordor ever again." "We should meet soon fore the lord Aragorn wishes to see Arwin the quean very soon." "Until then good luck and success were ever
you fall in to trouble witch is now seldom if unheard of that now the two enemies of the old war are long gone." "But I tell you Legolas there dark spirits
still live on to haunt Middle Earth and while the black hand of Morgoth still lives in captivity but still in grate distant power the evils of the earth
will endure but I hope that others will take care of it and not us."

PS "Would you like to go back to Moria and help my folk rebuild and restore its ancient caverns." "If you come there I promise that we will probably find
Mithral." "Its just a thought." "An elf of the wood can't fully appreciate the craft of mining like a dwarf can." "But as friends lets leave our differences
and share in the bliss of the world while we still can." "When you depart fore the havens I beg you to take me with you."

And so Gimli departed from the circles of the world with Legolas when the sea longing took the elf of the nine walkers and it was said in the red book that
this was in part because of the lady Galadriel who held the dwarf in high honor and showed him kindness and respect during the War of the Ring. Now the
secret of Saruman the treasures of Isildur were revealed and the Elendilmir was worn by the lord Elessar on days of feasting but of the chain and the container
that once held the ruling ring no other records inform us were that was hidden but it was likely kept in Minas Anor locked somewhere deep and secluded
a final tangible remnant that had actually carried the weapon of the enemy the ring of Sauron Greater Than

Appendix B

The Notes of Barahir Lord of Gondor

The following has been included and transcribed to aid after generations in the further study of the Sorcerer's War. The following material is brief and
lest extensive when compared to the Appendices of the Red Book of witch this may be thought of as an extension and some facts from the story written by
Findagild may be repeated but records hear included have been done so for the clarification of the king's scribe's published work that has already been
presented above with out abridgement of any sort.

Much is told in this book of the war of the lords of the west against the third dark lord of Arda but there are some records that may be of some interest
hear included that I and the other lore masters of the crown have assembled regarding the return of the shadow of the East before the lord Mablung found
the army encamped in Ithillian sparking the actual conflict of this age witch some have called The Sorcerer's War referring to the fact that the new overlord
of Mordor was an Estari or wizard. Other information already published has been comprised mainly by Findagild scribe of the crown in his book The Estari
of Mordor witch I have studied closely. Other facts concerning the war are also hear addressed. It was presumed that the symbol of the dark Estari Morgoth
had some deeper meaning but only speculations have risen to support the dozens of hypothesis's that now exist. The symbol depicted a blue hand clasping
a struggling serpent striving hopelessly in its captive's iron grasp. We can easily guess that the blue hand is referring to the sorcerer of Mordor but
no one can clearly say why the serpent a symbol normally associated with the enemy is being crushed to death. I and a few other scholars hold that the
serpent represents our king Eldarian fore he now possesses the ring of his father Aragorn Elessar on witch is set two serpents that where carved by the
Noldorin Elves long ago. It is already evident that Morgoth wished to rule all of our realms north or south. Could his symbol be a threat? Could it be
a threat to the kings of the west clearly declaring that the Dunidain could not have weathered the magic of an Estari? If our guesses are correct no further
evidence has been revealed and may never be revealed. Second of all we have collected reports from scouts traveling to Minas Anor from Osgiliath just two
weeks before it was destroyed that seem to suggest that there was indications that something strange was happening in the black land. Hear follows there
report only received by Eldarian after the siege was relieved by Elfwine.

From Tuor son of Galdor chief of the rangers searching the grounds of the cites closest to the former location of Minas Ethil for lost Gondorian treasures
or ancient heirlooms of the house of Isildur or artifacts of the war of the ring desired for preservation.

I and my lads dug up several orc helms not to mention a few daggers witch might be from the kin's Strife but nothing from any earlier ages predating the
rule of the last few kings of the south. I hope that what I have found will be of satisfactory to you lord Eldarian but I'm afraid I also have more troubling
tidings that may need immediate attention regarding the old realm of Mordor. When we were turning back we saw flashing lights beyond the mountains of shadow
and at first I dismissed them as just lightning for the night was dark with rain clouds that loomed overhead. But then as we reached a spot were the mountains
were not as dense and tall we could see that the lights were not springing from the sky like lighting but rising from the earth like signal flares. I fear
that rebels of the crown seeking to rise up against you O king may be gathering a resistance. I dare not face a much larger force thus unarmed save for
a few daggers and useless shovels. I earnestly beseech you and your lords to send a couple of squadrons to suppress what ever host is now assembling in
the black land and sending signal flares to allies I deem not far off. I come to your high seat in Minas Anor with all possible speed.

Before Tuor could reach his king he was halted by torrential rain and forced to turn aside for three long days. Afterwards the roads were to muddy and none
of his horses could ride with out hindrance delaying his message even further. At last when he arrived in the white city the warning bells had already
been rung, the beacons were lit, and Tuor's report was lost amid the papers believed to be of little importance the lords of the city simply reading the
name of Tuor and thinking that it was only about archeology and not about the war. All articles not pertaining to the threat of Morgoth were discarded
until the end of the siege. Who knows how things would have turned out if the message of Tuor had arrived sooner. Another paper that might have alarmed
the king's councilors came from Brandir captain of the foot soldiers of one of the steward's outposts in Ithillian seven miles away from the camp that
Mablung stumbled across ten days before the message of Tuor was written. This note is extremely short but highly intriguing considering what information
it holds. If this note had been received earlier perhaps Morgoth's siege may have been but an unexecuted battle plan. Perhaps the dark lord's army might
have been caught off guard in Ithillian. Hear follows the last words of Brandir before he died with all his men found scrolled on a peace of paper in the
warrior's back pocket when his body was found berried in a shallow grave with all his companions. "Orcs have gathered in Ithillian." "There is at least
a thousand of them and many more men out of the east and south besides." "They are assailing us." "Who ever reads this note please inform Eldarian of his
peril." "Go at once." If the warning that Brandir wrote dying on the field of battle had reached Elboron for whom it might have been intended troops easily
could have driven the scattered and divided orc hosts and battalions of men with out too much trouble. The enemy was not ready for a counter attack and
the mind of Morgoth was turned towards moving men from the east westward urging the wizard of that host to train his warriors of the planes and deserts
in siege warfare. The crude replica of the white city that Mablung saw used by the goblins was made in Mordor by Orc craftsman on the dark lord's orders
to help lay out a series of plans witch the captains of his hosts could follow in different circumstances. When the actual fighting began however much
of this training was useless when compared to the surprise attack lonched by Elfwine open the orcs busy bent on the destruction of all the Gondorians of
the white city and there king. Nevertheless the men and beasts of the tower of Sorcery and the far east had the knowledge of the general lay out of Minas
Anor as it then stood just as much as our own men behind the walls of the citadel witch helped with the initial assault's execution to murder Eldarian
and claim the city until the riders of the mark drove them away long before they could overwhelm the defenders completely. It was the goblins knowledge
of the lay out of Minas Anor that allowed them to build a tunnel prier to the assault beneath the defenses and launch a fruitless attack that might have
been far more affective if there picks and shovels beneath the soil hadn't made so much noise to alert the knights standing near by of there presence.
The battle that ensued was soon ended and the majority of the vial beasts slain. After the siege of Gondor was ended Eldarian sent many men northward to
assist Arahad and his horseman of Isengard who had gone to Arnor to crush the armies that came out of Angmar. Reclaiming Anumenas and all the territories
near Evendim was a grate challenge and the actual attacks lonched thence against servants of Morgoth in Angmar were very costly. Thousands of men died
in the north who's names will never be remembered in song. The old rangers of the Dunidain who decided to remain in the north as huntsman instead of heading
southward to the white city who were few in number also assisted and reinforced Arahad and with new fresh troops out of Gondor they finally drove the goblins
back in to the mountains and Angmar was no more. The villages near the misty mountains once battle grounds where men fell likes leaves on an Autumn's day
were now quiet pastures for flocks of sheep and wild goats. Green mounds were raised all over the north kingdom that still stand to this day and no creature
had ever dishonored the bones that lie there. When the shire was destroyed several lords of the folk of Anumenas now but a simple outpost and no longer
a grand bastion of the kings left to recover the books of the Halflings. To there surprise they found that none of the libraries were harmed in the raids
sent by the enemy since Morgoth wished to avoid the annihilation of books of lore that might have survived from elvish days that might increase his power.
Little did he know that the majority of the books in these quiet libraries were concerned with pipe weed, histories of the little people, or copies of
the Red Book. These libraries have been maintained and Halflings still visit them often and have made exact duplicates in the second shire now situated
in our own southern realm of Gondor. Arnor is still under our control but is no longer the main source of activity among the majority of the peoples of
the crown. Dwarves are few and they do not share any of there secret records with us about there own experiences during the war but it has long been guessed
that they suffered grievously from orc attacks north and south. Only time will tell if they can rebuild there population but I doubt it. The world of wonder
and magic has officially ended and the dominion of man begun. The elder days have passed away leaving only rumors and legends behind. What the future now
holds only tomorrow can reveal but that is still remote and unpredictable.

Thus ends all histories in Minas Anor concerning the Sorcerer's War but other records have been found regarding the fate of the Silmaril that was placed
upon the stone of the Hapless the grave of Turin Turambar and his mother Morwin Elethwin. It was declared by king Eldarian that every year when fortune
allowed a ship would set out to the stone of the Hapless and see if the Silmaril was still there burning bright. The map that Mablung tore apart was not
the only chart indicating were the grave of Turin and Morwin is situated still baring the holy jewel of Feanor. Secretly unknown to Mablung or his men
Elboron and Eldarian made a copy of the map of the Mariner and have only revealed this information to me now that the Silmaril is else ware. Fore ten years
the orders of Eldarian was followed and a company of unknown to the lord Mablung made there way to the lonely pillar of stone amidst
the waves and the Silmaril it bore but on one such trip something strange happened. Just as the Gondorian ship halted in front of the stone of the Hapless
three grate eagles swooped down from the west and the leader of the mysterious trio lifted the jewel in its talons and then flew away with his companions.
The sailors took it k fore a sign of the Valar for in the land of Numenor three eagles were often seen a top or near the mountain dedicated to Eru Iluvitar
the Menil Tarma. The three majestic eagles were often referred to as "The Witnesses of Manwe" and while they descended upon the mountain of Eru at times
they refused to descend upon it when the kings came to the Menil Tarma to pray to AE-RU. Why the Valar did not take the Silmaril and bring it back to Aman
witch the witnesses of Manwe clearly had done no man can now say. It was long guessed that the lords of Arda over the sea were debating were thee jewel
of Feanor should be bestowed but exactly how they came to the conclusion that the stone of the Hapless was no longer a suitable hiding place even the experts
dare not try and draw an answer from this puzzle. I personally believe that this Silmaril to witch we now refer to came from the sea since I doubt that
Morgoth could have drawn the jewel cast in to fire from the molten heart of Arda itself. There fore it is not impossible to assume that the Silmaril is
now in the keeping of Ulmo the Valar of waters so that the will of Eru will be fulfilled. Maybe Iluvitar himself ended any discord among the Valar and
commanded his vassals to give the gem to Ulmo so that the third Silmaril could be returned back to the sea from whence it had come but still be protected
by guardians of his choosing and not men who's mortal vigilance is often broken.

What has taken place is now over and can only be interpreted using what knowledge we hear possess or can gather threw our prier experience. May the will
of Eru Iluvitar persist and the thrones of the Valar endure so that all lands in this Middle Earth shall be safe from the shadow of Mellkor that still
remains.

Thus ends the manuscript of Barahir lord of Ithillian, the tale of the Silmarils and the wars of men in Arda following the downfall of the king of darkness.