In the year 746 of the Fourth Age of the world, life across Middle Earth was peacefully and without turbulence. Bows were used only for sport and hunting; spears only skewered wild boars; and swords swung only to knight knights and crown lords. Though much of the splendor of the old world had faded, men shone brightly in the glamor of the new. Only the greatness of Númenor before its fall could rival such a time when men knew peace.
The cornerstone of the tranquility of men was the Reunited Kingdom of Arnor and Gondor. From the Havens of Umbar to the Hills of Evendim, the banner of Elessar flew. Her fleets were great, and her armies few, but this is now what held the world in stability. Her mere presence kept the peace of men a reality. Her glory of old and new projected on Middle Earth. To the subjects of the Reunited Kingdom, it seemed as if the Star of Eärendil was among them.
But as the Númenóreans, at the height of their glory, began to turn towards more vain and dark thoughts, so did the men of the Fourth Age. Merchants became more concerned for their coffers instead of the interests of others, and lords more focused on their own glory and not the welfare of their people. And when the evil of men springs up from their hearts, so does the malice of the Black Foe turns toward them.
But not all is lost when men set their ways on wicked. For someone can still drive the darkness from their hearts. With fire he might kindle flames long left cold, and restore what once was. But what good does fire do if it burns too wildly and scorches the hand of its wielder?
Sometimes all a flame needs is an agent to counteract it, to help cool it down if it becomes too wild. Whether it be a cool breeze, a pail of water, or in this case…
a flurry of snow.