In the intense battle of nargothrond, I was hit by a huge stone fallen from one of the hills and was knocked down the hill below, I lost a part of my memory, I didn't remember my name or who my family was, all that I remembered was that we were at war.

Duthas, that is the name given to me by the dwarf folk who rescued me after the battle of nargothrond.

Thanks to the dwarves who helped me with food and shelter, I was able to resume my mission to rescue and protect the elves who were kidnapped after the battle of nargothrond.

My javelin, broken...

My word, lost...

The only thing I managed to hold on to and protect myself during the fall was my shield.

A dwarf smith made new weapons and new garments for me to move on, so I am and will always be grateful to the dwarves of middle earth, regardless if there are resentments and conflicts, I will always treat them with respect and honor no matter the place at time that i'am, a dwarf will allways be a friend to me...

Now i travel around the Middle-Earth to free all the elves and dwarfs that needs my help.