[Gwathagor]

Far away from the little wooden inn, the tall warrior elf wandered through visions of the past, oblivious to his surroundings.

In the aftermath of the War of Wrath, he had returned to Doriath in search of the only maiden to whom he had ever given his love. As he dreamed, he relived the sheer, bleak desperation that he felt when he found the forest deserted and the caverns largely empty. The Queen had gone, and all her court with him. Only squatters and beasts had he found dwelling in those hallowed halls beneath the forest floor, and they knew nothing of the whereabouts of Melian, Elloth, or any of the great people that had once inhabited Menegroth. Sick with sorrow, he had wandered thence into the wilds of Beleriand. His heart was broken; he had failed Elloth.

He would have died witless in the hills, but a band of wandering warriors found him sick and unconscious and brought him east, away over the Blue Mountains. There, while Numenor rose out of the sea and Beleriand foundered, he regained his strength of body and mind. However, his memory was forever lost, and though he became a great hunter and warrior again, he knew nothing of his past save that it was dark and sad.

He recalled these days, which, though hard, were fulfilling. In Eriador and Rhovanion they hunted the creatures of Darkness, meeting Elves and woodsmen and tall mariners as they traveled from place to place. He also recalled the brief visions which he began to have - visions of an slender fair-haired elf-maiden clad in blue. Though they troubled him, he treasured the visions, for he knew they came from his past. Over time, he grew again to love this vision again, though he never learned her name. And as they journeyed across the lands of Middle-earth, he inquired after an elf-maiden of her description. But no one had seen or heard of her.

Eventually the men died, one by one, of wounds or of age, but the elf lived on, growing canny, stern, and hard. He had been sad when the last old warrior had died with an arrow through his heart and buried him where he fell. Alone then he began to travel, battle-axe and longsword in hand, ever hunting creatures which prowled in the darkness. And ever he grew more estranged from those he sought to protect, burying his love for Illuvatar's Children beneath his hate for the Creatures of Morgoth and Sauron, until he even forgot the lovely elf-maid who haunted his empty past. But now and then he would ponder the strange device upon his scabbard: a rose amidst a field of fiery stars.

"Gwathagor" people began to call him, Shadowblade, for he came out of the shadow of Beleriand, and in the darkness he dwelt, and was like a shadow himself, so silent and swift was he. He took the name.

Of these things and many others he dreamed, drawing strength from these memories which he had so long buried. Hours passed; people came and went at the inn.

There was a crack of thunder and he awoke with a start, head down on the broad wooden counter in the Golden Perch. He caught the end of the new fellow's sentence.

"Do you have a dog, perhaps, a really big dog?"


It took a moment for the elf to realize the implications of this, and for the man to finish speaking.

"They are wolves," he said to the man. "Great wolves from the cold north, and they hunt in packs. I killed several this afternoon and fought one last night, which may have been their leader."

He was torn now between two roads. The first was the trail of the Draugring, the Cold Wolves, which had led him to this provincial village. He could not leave these hobbits defenseless against a terror which they knew not. The second was the path which had just risen before him, like a horizon of land before a lonely mariner: to find Elloth, who surely lived...surely. The locket left little doubt in his mind, and he found himself yearning above all else to find her again.

With an effort, he forced the urge down, subjecting it to his duty, as he had done for so many ages before.

"Call me Gwathagor," he said to the man, standing before him and extending his hand. "Can you wield a sword?"