A Word from Andunmacil I:

I do not own any of Tolkien's work, nor work for Middle-earth Enterprises, nor seek its profit. I only write because I love to write.

I also want to say that I take writing an extended universe to Tolkien's histories very seriously, wanting to be as accurate and fitting as possible. Dates, names, locations and events (and the accuracy thereof) are very important to me, along with my back story to Valgiar. Valgiar and its names associated to it are of my creation and are the only pieces of extended lore that I have added to the existing history. I have also to fill in names of other fiefs when no fief is mentioned during the times that I am writing about. For example: Forlong the Fat, Lord of Lossarnach, fought in the Battel of Pelennor Fields, yet his ancestry is missing from the lore. Hence, I must fill in where I can, though I will use all that has already been established as canon.

I also must say that my Quenya/Sindarin is very rough, and any critique on the few phrases that I use would be very helpful.

Please enjoy and express whatever view you have after you read, whether ill or fair, as I will thank you for reading either way.

Isildur stood upon the highest level of Minas Anor's brotherly tower, Minas Ithil. He did not foresee it, but it would be the last time he would gaze from that cleft that he loved so dearly. He was staring into the west and the rising moon as it stared back into him. The moon he thought seemed to shine a certain radiant beam on the ocean though he could not see where it landed. Then he thought that the night was blessed for the moon shined into the deep waters of Ulmo, casting its rays to revive his fallen home of Númenor far beneath the waves. It had been one hundred and ten years since the dreadful disaster that the Valar bequeathed upon the haughty Men. He remembered Akallabêth and the life of his childhood, and he was very grateful for the foresight of Elendil his father, and was forever in his debt.

The prince ended his gaze, retiring down the steps of the tower to its base where the citadel lay. The constant guard in dark blue was vigilant as ever and greeted their prince as he passed. The guard's captain, Firamar, walked with Isildur all the way to his chamber where the princess already lay asleep. Isildur turned to his captain.

'Have a rest tonight, Firamar. You have been by my side all day. And it has been very busy in the court and dealings with our kingdom. Your head must be in a headache from all of the litigations and yellings of the nobles and high officers.'

'You and me both sire. I have been by your side all day. You blessed me greatly when you stepped out during the discussion about threats from Umbar. Who was it this time? Fildor and Mardor? They were going at it for hours! And they are brothers! They are like children bantering about petty trifles.' The two friends gave out a loud laugh.

'So you will rest then?' Isildur continued.

'Actually sire,' turning his head to the east, 'This night has brought to me a strange feeling. An eastern wind brings clouds from Mordor and they will be over us soon. I do not believe they bode well. Whether this omen will fall upon us tonight or another, I would like to wait on it until it happens.' Isildur looked to the east and saw the black clouds coming quickly.

'I admire your vigilance,' putting his hand on Firamar's shoulder. 'I have to admit, I did not even notice them. My heart turned to lost Númenor because the moon seemed to cast its light upon it even deep into the sea. I miss the peak of Meneltarma's high summit, and how its snow gleamed the light of sun. Forever that memory will be a blessing to me. But these clouds I will curse if they come between me and the moon on this night.'

'Then I will look at Ithil all that I can when the foreboding clouds spare my concern. Sleep well my prince.'

'And bless your eyes, dear Firamar. I will see you when Anor finds the sky. Wake me two hours past first light.' Firamar agreed and Isildur retired to his chamber and fell to slumber.

Firamar turned to the east once more. Looking to the herald, he gave the command to keep a wary eye out that night, and to light the torches on the walls. He also ordered a double guard be out from further notice to ease the tenseness that claimed his thought.

Throughout the rest of the night, he was weary, and a fear began to seize him, though he found no reason for the madness. Then Inyaril, his lieutenant, saw this and said, 'Captain, what has come over you? Is this not a peaceful night, as peaceful of a night as we have had this past century and ten years? Why have you this strange fit of fear? Tell me so that your fear may be investigated.'

Then with trouble Firamar replied, 'These clouds, they bear horrible news. I can feel it, it is in the air. A dark power is coming over this place. The clouds of Mordor bring an evil tame. Do you not feel it?' And Firamar began to weep.

'Sir you bring me fright. What cause is there to be of fear?' In his shaking, Firamar pointed to the clouds that had now covered the tower. As Inyaril saw what progress the clouds had so quickly made in moving westward, his heart told him that a real evil was upon the city of Isildur. 'Firamar, will you not give a command?' But Firamar was lost in his seizure for it had become violent. 'I will then take your command until you are fit. Please be merciful when you judge my actions if I do wrong, but I only will do what I think is right.'

Then Inyaril stood and called for a healer, and one was taken to caring for Firamar back to a calm state. But then Inyaril sent an order to light all torches in the city, and to tighten the gate and to awaken the garrison. Within minutes Minas Ithil was a beacon in the dark vale of the mountains. Inyaril set commands on the wall and made the sentries ready for any sign of an evil scheme.

Isildur then awoke because the light beyond the bedchamber curtains looked like the sun itself, but night he still knew was not ended. Isildur shook his wife awake. 'Something is wrong. Wake up. Wake our sons. Maid!' A maiden swiftly came through the curtain and bowed. Isildur ordered her to retrieve Valandil their youngest son who was still only a child.

Isildur stood and went from his bedchamber. When he exited he saw Inyaril coming towards him up the steps and through the hall; all of the lights were afire and many men-at-arms were coming from within the barracks located at the palace level.

'Where is Firamar, and what is the meaning of this light at this time of night? And the soldiers are being called to arms? I feel as if there was a rebellion quelling in front of me and the conspirators had not the decency to at least do so behind my waking eyes.'

'My liege, please hear me.'

'Speak, and quickly now.'

'Firamar feared the clouds.'

'Yes, he mentioned that he had an ill feeling this night.'

'Yes, he now is in the healing house for a fear has struck him to the bone. Please hear me,' said Inyaril, seeing Isildur beckoned a question, but he quieted. 'The fear he said came from the clouds, and now they are over the city entirely. I think that they are of an evil design, but I cannot perceive how. But that is why the torches have been lit and the men called to arms and to their stations: I began to let the fear grip me as it did Firamar, but I had to act before it took me. I only saw this as fit, but I do accept your consequence.'

'Nay, stand Inyaril, and be quick. You have done well. I do not know what this night is, but long has it been since we have been called to alarm. It has been quiet too long. I fear the worst may be upon us.'

'The Dark Lord?' Inyaril said in a whisper, guessing the thought of the Prince and Isildur nodded. As it happened, the horn of the outer wall was sounded and the yelling of men ensued, orders being made and citizens yelling in distress. Isildur came to the citadel's edge and looked out into the field beyond the outer walls. Isildur and Inyaril looked upon a host of Orcs raging towards the city from the east at great speed. Isildur was aghast, but Inyaril was steadfast.

'Lord, you must leave now. Take your family and go now. There is a ship, you know where it is. Derodar! Take the prince and his family to the dock, and take with you your contingent. By the passages! Go now!' This was Inyaril and his last words to his prince.

'Inyaril-' Isildur called for him but he was already down the stairs and to the walls. Then Derodar pulled on the prince's shirt; his wife and four sons had already gone down the stairs that led to the rear of the city to the port that lay there.

'Lord come! The orcs must not capture you! Please, I beg you.' Then Isildur turned and followed the path.

Inyaril came to the walls and saw the full host that lay before him. Their numbers could not be counted nor could be estimated. Though, they had not reached the walls yet, and the gate was ready for them. Then Inyaril spoke to the soldiers of that city.

'My fair men of Isildur and the tower of Minas Ithil! Find your courage now! The clouds are above us! I call your eyes to the sky, can you see the stars? No, you cannot. They are covered by clouds of evil, they are of dark thoughts that we have never thought to dream of in this age. But I must tell you now, these are the devices of Sauron the Dark Lord. Mordor has been rekindled. But that is not our cause tonight.

'I am certain that Sauron would love for Elendil to see his first born's head on a stake, but I would rather have mine there in place of his, and you have sworn your life to do the same. But you would fear to do so; and so do I: it shakes me to the bone! But lay that fear aside. I call that you follow me now in this hour when death is upon us in brutal wanton hate.

'I said that you could not see the stars, but look back to the west for Ithil still doth shine and is not covered. Isildur himself said tonight that the Moon's rays lighted the sunken Númenor itself. I believe him, and that is my hope tonight. I will not fall until I cannot see the Moon.' That was a vow he took that night, but not his last. He continued, 'And this will give us enough time until Isildur is away from harm. So be of hope and be with me and my courage.' And then the companies of men said, 'We are with you because you have given us hope.' And so the men of Minas Ithil were encouraged and were full of hope.

The Orcs reached the walls and ladders were forced upon them. The invaders streamed up to the battlements endlessly as a ram was put to the gate to test its vigor. But as the moon still shone upon the city, the men were hopeful and did not fret or give way to the ghastly forces that came upon them. When they had broken down the gate, spears met the Orcs and were repelled for a time.

Then Inyaril led a charge from within the gate towards the plain without. The orcs did not expect this and were stricken with fear themselves for a time. Their frontmost line waned courage and began to press backwards, afraid they would be slain by the ruthless swing of Inyaril's sword. But their commander would not allow this. Then that orc shouted a command with sinister voice and his best soldiers took up the siege.

At this time, both the assault by the ladders and gate had been repelled back and there was some rest for the men who still lived. Inyaril ordered that the gate be mended and that all men-at-arms be stationed at the first wall. With this done, the battle posts were filled once more and the gate mended, though weaker it stood. But to all that would give the men time to fight, they would take it and count it a blessing, for the longer they fought, the longer they lived and caused a hindrance to the Enemy.

Yet at this time, not all knew that the Enemy Sauron was indeed upon them, and he himself was the general commanding the forces that besieged the city. He had disguised himself simply as an orc among the throngs, relaying his commands through a captain who stood upon a rock and had a unnaturally loud voice. Then this voice boomed into the night once more and the thralls of Sauron approached Minas Ithil. Inyaril encouraged his men all that he could, but the night was growing darker as the clouds continued to pass by and encompass their horizon in all directions. Yet still, the Moon remained in sight, and the men rejoiced. Then some looked upon the moon as they had their rest between first and second assault and they saw that the rays of Ithil seemed to directly cast her rays upon the city, for it grew brighter as the clouds drew closer to hiding it.

"The Moon still doth shine!" The defenders roared into the night and combated in tongue with the commanding voice of the orcs.

For the second time, the orcs charged the wall and the ladders were lifted once more for the men had thrown them down. And the sentries fired as many arrows as could be released before swords were drawn and the melee commenced again upon the thick wall of the fortress. Inyaril this time was upon the wall and drew swords with Sauron's best. But he was skilled along with his men greater than any of them, or any orc they had yet met.

The second assault was relentless, and Sauron's best only became greater in skill, for that is how Sauron ordered them to be met by the defenders, and the men were growing tired and the clouds drew nearer to the ever brighter Moon. Then the gate was broken down again and the orcs swarmed in like bees to a hive. The defenders fought with valor, but were bested this time and their spear wall was breached and the men slain.

So Inyaril ordered those that remained to fall back to the keep to draw the orcs farther in. As Inyaril went his way through sword and ax, he was upon the bridge that led to the inner citadel where Isildur's court was held and where the inner guard watched. He looked back towards the outer wall and saw that they were overrun, and the orcs entered quickly and many in number. With him were only five others who had by grace and skill made it to this point. So Inyaril turned towards the horde and vowed to make his final stand at this point, and the men about him the same. So the six stood as they fought on the bridge.

As they had been pressed back all the way to the small gate that led to the inner courtyard, their hope waned, but Inyaril was courage and fought until he was out of breath. Then the moon was covered, and the other men fell ill with a fear of the darkness, for then they also saw entering into the city Sauron himself, who made himself fully known at this point. A fire was about him with every step, and even the orcs cringed at his sight and smell.

'Do not fear! Do not fear! He is only death, and that is not the worst thing. Be of courage now more than ever, for it is in these times that valor and loyalty is most needed.' And when Inyaril still fought on, he spoke a new chant: I ithil mîm nin gûr nagwanna! With each slaying of an orc he yelled this for the moon was now hidden behind the evil design of the Dark Lord. It means: The Moon within me shall not die.

But when Inyaril fell to his knees because of his fatigue, and the men around him had been slain valiantly, the gate opened and out came Firamar in full strength and arms, bearing sword and shield with a banner strapped to his back, showing of the moon and the seven stars of the Dunedain. Out he came with a horn-blast and following him were the prince's royal guard, the contingent of Derodar was ordered to take, along with those that had conviction to stay behind and fight.

Firamar himself slew the orcs that had dared touch the bridge. Then he said to Inyaril who only then stood after his rest, 'I heard you encourage the men upon the walls and it sprung me from me sickness. But I waited until now so that a valiant end worthy of song and lore may be made. Forgive me for my fret that earlier took me, but say nothing so that all your breath may be spared for the slaughter. Come now, o faithful of Isildur! Let us meet our final minutes with dignity. Let Eru be praised for the greatness the Dunedain have achieved and will continue to achieve, for the Dunedain will remain in Middle-earth until its breaking at the end of time! Onward!'

With these words, the small contingent of the remaining warriors charged upon the waves and tide of the orc horde. They fought and pushed the orcs back nigh a sprint's distance until they found themselves in front of the Dark Lord himself who had once again made himself a shade only to return suddenly. And the orcs stopped their assault to see the will of their master.

'The Men of Númenor have ever but fought with hearts as strong as mithril. You have proved yourself better than my finest pions. I congratulate you.'

'End your evil speech so that we may die without your temptations.' said Firamar defiantly.

'But to kill you would be waste and pity, for I admire and will always admire the hearts and valor of men, men whom I can greatly reward.' At these words the men scowled and defied Sauron.

'Your words are folly and a waste of my time.' Then as Húrin Thalion cried in the midst of the Morgoth, Firamar echoed the ancient shout, 'Aure entuluva!' (which means, 'Day will come again') and he sprung at Sauron who then met the challenge. Enyaril followed his captain to death by hand of Sauron while the others met the orcs and fought to the last. Throughout the duel of Isildur's captains and Sauron, Firamar chanted Aure entuluva while Enyaril chanted Ithil nagwanna.

But before long, Sauron could not be bested, especially by those who are fatigued, and thus Firamar and Enyaril were thrown to the grown, their swords and shield being broken by the crack of Sauron's mace. But they both stood again to the anger of the Dark Lord, and then they were slain by his evil power. However, only did Enyaril fall to the ground until the banner of Firamar had struck the earth before him.

And thus, the fortress of Minas Ithil had been captured and Isildur escaped by the river Anduin. The fortress was scoured but no prince could be found, and thus Sauron cursed the city. With this, the final war of the Second Age was upon those who dwelt in Middle-earth.