Naegilrond took a rather voluminous book from the shelf, a book bound in deep blue coloured leather. It held no title imprinted on the leather cover, nor on the front, nor on the back. All in all, it looked like a book that would hold not a single piece of value. Yet still, Naegilrond treated it carefully when he laid it on his study. Everything was prepared already, having several quills and a couple of inkwells on top of his desk.
Reaching out for one of the quills, he opened the book slowly and whispered the few words written on the first page: "An account of our battles fought." There was no name to be seen anywhere underneath it. Though Naegilrond knew very well this work was created by those of his family, to remember their moments of glory, but also those that held great grief. Dipping his quill in the inkwell with a near perfect motion, he went to the last written page, to continue where he left of...
"The Battle of Fornost in the year 1975 of the Third Age." he started his new chapter with. Naegilrond wrote slowly, in order to perfect the curly, elegant letters that were ment to last for an eternity. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he thought of this, realising he himself is one of the eternal living, and may most likely survive this work. He dipped his quill in the inkwell again and continued.
Rumour spread to all the lands in the East, South and West. Rumours of a great evil growing in the old, harsh lands of Angmar. They spoke of massive armies of Yrch and Atani alike, all black hearted creatures that gathered under an even greater evil. What it was, we did not know, until it was too late..."
"We thought the kingdom or Arthedain and its proud warriors would deal with the threat, or we even forgot about Angmar and the news that did not seem to hold any truth. It was far away from our homes, and our hîr Círdan would make sure to deal with the threat if it would threaten our lands. Suddenly, no more news came from the north. Silence fell upon our lands, a silence of the kind that only predicts war and death. A storm was coming, of that we now were sure. Though none would have expected for it to be such a devastating one..."
