It was at high noon the next day that the Dunedain found the mossy stones of Fornost come into their view. They left their horses tied to a strong tree that grew where a gatehouse once stood, and made their way through the outer wall. In ages past this would have been a sprawling fortress full of the bustle of thousands of men and women. At its height under the Kings of Arthedain, the city boasted the grandest castle and most powerful army in the north. The Knights of Norbury were some of the greatest fighters the world of men had ever seen, the blood of Numenor running strong through their veins. Yet not they, nor the great fortresses that once dotted the land, or the valor of the men of Cardolan and Rhudaur could stop the ruin of the North at hands of Angmar.
Warily the party made its way past the outer defenses and into the sprawling ruins itself. The fortress-city had lay still as a grave for over a thousand years, and what was once a symbol of Numenorean culture became a grim reminder that the Dunedain were no longer masters of the North. This had been Elendil's kingdom, and the kingdom of his heirs, but what remained of it now was forced to live like bandits in their realm. Silent as the grave the Rangers walked, and each had their weapon at the ready.
"Are any of you aware the bree-landers claim that there are ghosts here from the battles long ago." Tarsil said, as he maintained an uneasy grip on his polearm, "Do any others beside myself wonder if these tales are true?"
"The bree-folk think us bandits or ruffians," Halbaron replied, "I doubt we need place great creedence on their whispers."
"The place where true wrights lie is in the tombs of Cardolan." Idrial said so softly, and only Halbaron heard the words, but they were enough to give him chills in his soul.
The Tower of the King was at the far other end of the massive former fortress and so the group found themselves walking for several hours on broken cobblestone now overrun by grass. They were nearly half of the way to their destination when Dolben noticed something on the ground. In the corner of his vision, an arrow, a black arrow, an orc arrow.
"Commander! Come here!" he urged as Halbaron and the rest of the company gathered around what Dolben had found.
"Its looks are not old." Argeleb remarked as he picked it up and examined the object. "There is blood on it too, fresh by my reckoning."
"Then we are not alone," Halbaron said as he eyed his surroundings wearily, as if the enemy could appear at any moment.
"We must make to the tower with all speed then. If we find what we are looking for with haste, perhaps leaving this place will come in short order." Idrial suggested, earning nods from the group.
It was with this news they continued at a quicker pace. They passed through the ruined wide spaces where once great markets with goods from faraway Dale and the Lonely Mountain once were sold. Past green and mossy rock the group eventually found themselves before the inner gates of the Citadel. For the city of Fornost was a fortress built in the height of Arnor's glory, with many high fortifications; not only did a massive outer wall surround the city as a whole, but several smaller walls and turrets were placed in strategic areas throughout the massive site. The tallest of these inner walls was those of the Keep of High Kings, so named during the time the True Heirs of Isildur shared the city with the ancient Stewards of Arnor during the time of the Kingdom of Arthedain.
It was as if another castle, still grand in size and weathered by time, stood in the fortress city. However, time, and the enemies of the Free Peoples had reduced the once proud structure to rubble and memories. The gate was collapsed, and the ruins of a portcullis hung about the area after being smashed by hillmen battering rams. In the scramble and fire scorch marks from over a thousand years ago still were etched on the stones the Rangers passed. As they continued to march at slow and cautious pace, all could feel as if they were being stalked. Anxiously Dolben placed an arrow on his bow, ready for attack, and Tarsil held a loose but firm hold on spear that hadn't failed him yet.
What none of the Ranger knew, was that places like these, ancient and powerful, were places that old and powerful magics could often find their home. For the power of the Eldar, the Valar, and even Iluvatar himself could yet be found in the remote and oft ignored corner of the world. As evil power lurks in the caverns of Moria or the Barrow-Downs, so to can forces of a more benevolent nature be present, as the old runes and spells of the Dunedain mixed with the will of the One.
The group had reached the large center courtyard of the inner keep. It was an outdoor space flanked by the former Royal Apartments on the one hand and the Knight's Barracks on the other. In front of them loomed large the Tower of the West, the structure stood higher than all the others of it's like and unlike the rest of the buildings, seemed to be untouched by the ravages of an ancient war and an age long past. They were approaching the structure and making their way past fallen boulders and old catapult munitions when the enemy found them.
It an instant though, the situation quickly changed. A black arrow grazed Halbaron's shoulder but did not draw blood through the leather armor. Behind the Dunedain, coming from where they had once traveled, was a pack of orcs and goblins from the Misty Mountains. Wasting no time the Rangers turned about face to stand against these abominations. First one arrow, then two, and an entire flight of arrows fell from the skies about the party before melee weapons were called to action.
"Tangado haid! Leithio i philinn!" Halbaron cried out in the tongue of the High Elves as he and his comrades nocked arrows again and let fly into the quickly closing enemy.
As perhaps a half dozen orcish corpse lay on the shattered streets, dead from Dunedain arrows, at least a dozen more rushed into the courtyard to fight the scions of Numenor. One such goblin attempted to strike at Idrial with a crude and rusted blade, but despite the size and weight of her weapon of choice, the lady deftly dodged to the right and managed to bring down her weapon unto the skull of the Orc; killing it swiftly.
At the same time two goblins moved closer to Tarsil, Trying to close the gap between striking distance between their short shorts and his spear. It would be for naught however, as one goblin found himself skewered on the tip of the spear only to be immediately kicked off. While the other goblin was hit with the wooden pole of the spear and sent to the floor where it was impaled with extreme prejudice.
At the opposite edge of the courtyard a two handed great sword sliced through the air and an orcish head as Argeleb swung his sword in a wide arc to keep the four orcs circling him at bay. Fear emanated from the creatures, but overriding that fear was the intense hatred the spawn of Morgoth had for all things not born of Evil. So in their madness the creatures all charged. They would not succeed in their attempt as Argeleb ran through one orc while swinging his sword to the left right away. This blow simultaneously took off the heads of two orcs while he used the same momentum to bring his sword down upon the final creature, cutting it in half.
Meanwhile Dolben kept to the rear of their party and continued to fire his longbow. Taking a deep breath with every shot, the slight built Ranger took another arrow into his hand, and let the projectile fly straight into the head of a shambling goblin.
As Halbaron kicked a corpse off his blade he could see that there were going to be overrun if they stayed any longer. The Rangers were skilled but even they would be killed as more and more orcs filed into to the courtyard. In this moment Halbaron made the choice that would affect two worlds forever, and echo across eternity.
"Dunedain! We make for the tower now!"
For a moment there was hesitation on the faces of his comrades, but Halbaron had led them through danger before, and their trust in him was firm. Dolben continued to fire arrows at the pursuing orcs periodically as they moved back towards the tower, and the Rangers made haste to the high wooden doorway. Quickly, as the last of the Rangers were rushing to the tower, they they barred the heavy doors shut. Surprisingly the old oak and iron frames held quite strong, as orcs and goblins pounded on the door repeatedly, yet found that it would take more than a first effort to destroy the work of Arnor.
The Rangers rushed up the stairs in great flight as they could hear behind them the straining of wood and iron against brute force. They were about halfway up the tower when they heard a great shattering sound come from the bottom and the clamor of footsteps of marble stairs. The Rangers redoubled her efforts to reach the top and they practically flew into the final chamber. The interior of the chamber was large circular dome like the great Dome of Stars in Osgiliath. On the top of the wall, which was upheld by seven strong marble pillars, were a great many things in detail and beauty painted maybe 1000 years ago. There were old drawings of the Kings of Numenor and Arnor, of the stars of the Valar, and of the great ships that it brought forth the Dunedain from the ashes of Numenor. The center of the chamber sad a pedestal where once the Palanetier of Fornost sat, to be used only by the king of Arthedain, King of Arnor or the Lord of Fornost.
The clamor of footsteps of louder and louder behind them and again the Rangers locked the door this time reinforcing it with their own strength. A crash echoed through the chamber as Tarsil and Argeleb could hear the shouts of orcs on the other side while they braced themselves against the door.
"What was our purpose for coming here again?" Tarsil asked as the door he was trying to support bucked slightly at being slammed into by rabid monsters.
Regardless now it be the best time for a clever plan." Dolben said, his concern more about leaving this place alive rather than their purpose for being here in the first place.
"The man the chieftain said to meet said only that we would find what we were looking for here." Halbaron explained as he frantically searched through the large chamber for something that would help them, anything to get his friends home.
"And you believed him?" Tarsil questioned with an almost accusatory tone that might have been more so if he was not preoccupied holding the door shut.
"We believed him, and I before our commander." Idrial said leaping to Halbaron's defense as Tarsil only continued to grimace.
Yet before more words could be exchanged, a fell quiet came upon them as the noise of orcs on the other side of the doors stopped. As this new occurrence shocked, the Dunedain the runes of old Quenya speech written in almost every area available on the walls and on the ceiling glowed with an earthly light. Glowing more brightly them anything was the star at the top of the ceiling. Beneath them, the earth shook with a great clamor and noise, and the Rangers could hear the cries and screams of terror of orcs below. Yet even with all this, those of the race of men present their began to feel their eyes become heavy and minds become weary.
"What is happening?" Argeleb groaned as he fell to his knees in sudden exhaustion.
"This is some power beyond us," Dolben said as he too found himself falling to the floor, "I cannot- I need-"
"Stand fast!" Halbaron order while he himself could barely find the strength to stand, "We have too.. Must... We must..."
Before he could continue the leader and captain of these rangers found himself thought into the floor and I start this overtook him he could not help but wonder what was in store for him and his Rangers and whether or not he would ever see home again. The time for that would come later though as consciousness slipped away from the Rangers mind and that of his fellows.
From the high seat of Eru in Eã, the One who is above all smiled as he raised his hand in assent. Through power vested in eternity and the Flame Imperishable, creation and time bent to the will of its master. Arda and the Third Age was to be left behind. The wind whipped up mightily about the entirety of the ancient ruins. The orcs in the ruins and stones panicked and quarreled as the power of their true master's greatest enemy was felt on the wind and in the earth. If one was to be outside the fortress looking on the structure, then one would see that a great fog enveloped the entirety of the massive city. Then as quickly as it happened, the fog rolled back and the shaking stopped, only to reveal empty plains where once stood the Jewel of the North.
Note, as there are two languages spoken by the different elves of middle-earth for future reference both the translations and which version of elvish will be posted.
Elvish Translations
Quenya:
Tangado haid! Leithio i philinn: Hold positions, fire arrows
Sindarin:
None