The hills of the northdown stand empty. It was long ago when kings and queens were buried here among the Edain of old. Many however were raised, used as puppets by fell spirits on the orders of the Witch King of Angmar. But many of these have been laid to rest once more by the Dunedain. And now, beside the evil of Fornost, unclear and fell, looming over the hilly fields, the old burial road is peaceful. All except one, barrow.
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