Over six centuries had passed since the coming of the Noldor back to the Shores of Beleriand, and Fingolfin's siege was a wall about the fortress of Angband as Martuleon looked out from the hills of Dorthonion across the expanse of the Ard-galen. The Younger Noldo seethed inside of his skin, for he wished this siege ended and Morgoth brought out from his fortress in chains. His right hand came up to his chest and lightly touched the scar that lay over his heart, a remembrance of his youth and a fuel to ignite his hatred for the orcs. He wished
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Wars of Beleriand
