Arnor

As King Arvedui and his advisors expected the Witch-king to strike at Minas Vrûn rather than attempt the well-guarded pass through Annúndir, many of Arthedain’s remaining soldiers had mustered in the southern city, leaving the capital of Fornost Erain undermanned. Now that Ost Nuaran was in the hands of the enemy, they could proceed directly to Fornost, which was not prepared for an attack.

Bregur felt great guilt for the death of Helediril, for he wished only to stop his mother from reporting his misdeeds to the King, not slay her. Lady Helediril was laid to rest among the burial mounds of Haudh Eglan, within the woods of Annúndir which she loved so much in life. He visited her grave many times, though he was always keen to avoid Thorneth when he did so, either out of dislike for his half-sister or fear that she may discover his involvement in their mother’s fall.

In the latter years of the reign of Araphant, the Witch-king of Angmar sent forth groups of his orcs and evil men to conduct raids upon the peoples of Arthedain. They avoided the larger fortresses and the capital of Fornost and struck the outlying towns and farmsteads with small warbands. The scouts of Arthedain would often spot these attackers, but it was difficult for the kingdom’s armies to respond in time due to the swiftness that the enemy could achieve, save for when they pushed their luck too far and were rode down by the cavalry of Ost Galumar.

Helediril was a lady of the Dúnedain and royal falconer to King Araphant of Arthedain and King Arvedui after him. She was descended from Rochanar, the horsemaster to High Kings Elendil and Isildur, and possessed his uncanny talent for Beast-speech for which their house had become known. Helediril married Tologur, a Knight of Arthedain, and together they had a son, whom they named Bregur.

The hamlet of Hamglen, nestled near Bree, wakes to a chilly morning as the first light of the sun pierces through the mist that blankets the small homesteads. The thatched roofs of the cottages glisten with a thin layer of frost, and the air carries a crisp bite that hints at the arrival of colder days. The chimneys release tendrils of smoke that rise lazily into the cool atmosphere, and the village folk, wrapped in warm woolen cloaks, move with purpose through the cobbled streets. The autumn leaves crunch underfoot, releasing a fragrant earthy aroma.

The ruins of some kind of establishment of Cardolan stood before Eira. The ruins were destroyed by time, crumbling and toppled. She scuffed her shoes as she took step after step towards the ruins. The ancient stonework was etched in symbols of Numenorean heritage. The numerous walls were carved with stars, historical events, important people... Only a handful Eira could point out, from before the Fall of Numenor. Half Black Numenorean, she had been taught history through the perspective of the King's Men, not the Faithful.

Seregrian continued to eat, saying "But come, Eira, begin your tale while we dine."