I write this chapter by the light of the fire, my camp nestled within a rocky outcrop. The wind howls as though it were a chorus of souls; its chill bearing the touch of the dead. This is the Fields of Fornost, upon which Arthedain met its end at the hands of Angmar and its fell ruler, the Witch King, one of the chief Lieutenants to the Dark Lord of Mordor. Here, a great beacon to the Númenórean legacy was quenched, with the ashes that remained being scattered to the winds. What witnessed it all, looming over the fields, is the Norbury of the Kings, Fornost Erain, standing mournfully over the Kingdom it was once the heart of. It is a place few dare to venture, the Men of Bree referring to this barren field and its hollow fortress as the Deadman’s Dike, and stories of fell spirits walking the hills are far too common, even today.
In truth, Fornost Erain existed long before Arthedain became a kingdom, being built during the days of the Kingdom of Arnor to no record survives as to exactly when; even what is widely believed by the Dúnedain to be the stronghold’s Founding Stone has long been worn away by time and the desecration caused by hundreds of years of orc occupation. Its location was likely chosen because of the field of vision over the surrounding land, providing a clear path between it and Annúminas. It also marks the North end of the North-South Road, and thus would be ideal for trade caravans when more Arnorian settlements were established. Above all else, however, it would be the primary defence against the shadows that dwelled in the North. Perhaps, following the death of Isildur and his sons at the Gladden Fields and the decline of the Northern Dúnedain, those that remained believed Fornost Erain could be better defended than Annúminas, which lead to them abandoning it? The Kings of Arthedain certainly believed this, and Annúminas was never reclaimed following Arnor’s fragmentation. One can only theorise as to whether doing so was have aided in the reunification of the three kingdoms.
Of what remains of Fornost Erain, I can draw interest to three towers that dominated three districts of the upper city. Barad Eithel housed the city’s waterworks and aqueduct, likely sourced as glacial runoff from the mountains above. Due to Fornost’s disadvantage of being far from any river or lake, the Aqueduct was understandly an essential solution to providing the city with clean water.
Barad Harn housed the Guard Barracks, with its armouries picked clean by looters from years long gone. The district it watched over also housed the city’s gaol and House of Law, and its presence to the Barracks likely made it one of the most protected areas besides that of the Royal Palace. The Lord Commander of the Guard held a grand dwelling atop of the tower, though very little remains of that as well.
Finally, Barad Narthan, was the heart of Fornost Erain’s crafting talents. It housed forges and smithies that rivalled the Forges of Cirion in Minas Tirith, supplying the armies of Arnor and, later, Arthedain. Make no mistake, however, for the Narthan District housed craftsmen of all walks of life; carpenters, jewellers, leatherworkers; each profession found a home here.
I, however, must mention that my work on Fornost Erain remains incomplete. The tower of Minas Erain, which is believed to have been the palace of the Kings of Arthedain, held a terrible presence that was felt by myself and my Dúnedain guides. A great shadow that clung to the walls, its darkness making any torch or candle useless. Something evil lurked in that shadow; and even if it has long passed, the memory of it remains. We deemed it too dangerous to fully explore the hall, not without some ancient Elvish blessing or wizard’s magic. The tower remains unexplored, leaving many questions as to what secrets remain inside that could solve countless mysteries.
What has remained a constant throughout my visit has been the sense of unease. Even with the Enemy defeated and its influence fading, it seems its consequences have left stains upon the land. I harken back to those rumours that these lands are haunted; the warriors that fought and died upon the fields against Angmar. Could they have muttered oaths of vengeance, that they would not see evil walk these hills? Even when King Eärnur drove the Angmarim from these lands, the spirits seem to have remained. Eärnur’s defiance against the Witch-King has been well documented, even up until he vanished into the Morgul Vale. Perhaps, what I am trying to say here is that the damage had already been done. Even if the spirits that allegedly dwell here do not exist, the atmosphere alone feels oppressive, as if the shadows from beyond the light of the fire stare back at you with malice. I believe that, much like Minas Ithil, one day this once great city shall be reclaimed and restored to what it once more. Maybe then the secrets of Minas Erain will finally be answered.
