Curgirion was a tall, great man with scruffy, dark hair and stormy, serious grey eyes. He was a man of seventy-one years, a young age for a Dúnadan but a full lifetime for a normal man. He was living in his home, Tinnudir which was in the land of Evendim, an encampment of the Dúnedain. He lived a normal, quiet life well quiet enough for a Dúnadan yet it all changed one day in July and that shaped Curgirion to be the Ranger he is now partially. And it started like this…
Curgirion was sitting on the edge of the island of Tinnudir staring at the Lake of Evendim and more specifically at Annuminas that was far in the distance. Curgirion had a deep passion for the tales of Annuminas and a desire to visit it yet he was advised not to despite the fact it was ruined and a shadow of its past self. He also deeply desired for Annuminas to regain its former glory.
“Curgirion.” A Dúnadan from the encampment said.
“Aye, Fúrchen?” Curgirion said without turning to him and instead kept staring at Annuminas.
“Well, Calenglad wishes to speak with you.”
“Why?” Curgirion finally turned to him.
“I do not know.” Fúrchen shrugged. Curgirion sighed, stood up and walked over to Calenglad who was the leader of the Dúnedain encampment here.
“I hear you wanted to speak with me, Calenglad?” Curgirion said.
Calenglad looked up, “Ah, Curgirion. Aye, I did want to speak with you on an important matter.” He paused for a second then continued. “Do you remember that scout we sent to check up on Fornost’s situation?”
“Oh aye, you sent him a month ago.”
“Aye but he never came back and he is considered missing.”
“So? What does this has to do with me?” He said impatiently. You see patience is not one of his virtues which sorts of runs in the family as his father, Beranthil, was an impatient Ranger himself.
“Well. Now we’ll need a new scout to check up on Fornost for me AND the scout.” He concluded.
“Ah. So you want me?”
“Aye. You’re the second best scout after him.”
“Very well. I’ll pack up my stuff and leave immediately.”
“Allright. Be careful, we do not know why our former scout has gone missing.” Curgirion nodded and set out to his tent. He has very few belongings but they were significant to me, they were: Estebain, his sword that he acquired from his father at his fifteenth birthday, it was in his family for nearly two hundred years as it was his grandfather’s and was passed to his father at his death and now it was his. He also had three of four books about architecture and history and a queer silver key that his father also gave him but for what reason, he did not know. He also packed a couple of supplies with him.
When he was done, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and begun his trek east. He probably would have said goodbye to someone but who would he say goodbye too? His father, Beranthil died when he was fifty-two at a scouting trip, his mother was a normal human woman and died of old age and he had no friends in Tinnudir at all.
He crossed the bridge then followed the path through the hilly plains of Parth Aduial, the ruins of Evendim were scattered all over Parth Aduial and as Curgirion saw them in the distance, he felt sadness as they were once great places but now they were just a fragment of history. He didn’t have a steed so the journey to Fornost was even longer for him but he didn’t mind.
He actually enjoyed being on foot – the cool breeze in his hair, the beautiful landscape. He never has been to Fornost before nor very far out of Evendim before. The only times he left Tinnudir were for hunting expeditions to the north or the east or scouting and delivering messages. But never OUT of Evendim.
He arrived at a statue of metal of a man wielding a sword in the middle of Parth Aduial. And the monument was called Canadiach. He stopped in there for a while – inspecting and observing it with much interest. But he soon left it to pursue his voyage – when he looked up, already half a day has passed and it was early evening. He strolled by the ruins of Tham Andalath which was abandoned and Curgirion being who he was, decided to check it out. He was pretty amazed by it and its condition. “But it’s nothing compared to Annuminas.” Curgirion said to himself.
He departed Tham Andalath after looking through it. Soon, the sky turned light pink; the trees started turning ghostly white and the ground was dark green. He reached the Evendim Gate where he begun to see shades. Two shades were on both sides of the gate guarding it and as Curgirion silently approached the gate; the shades turned to him and started attacking him. Curgirion drew out Estebain, a longsword that was over a metre long and attacked the shades wildly.
Now, for those who doesn’t know Curgirion, he is a fierce and wild fighter and he was greatly skilled with a sword like most Dúnedain. Luckily for him, his sword was off Westernesse-make so he could slay the shades. Then, he continued on and he was now in the North Downs and in the Fields of Fornost.
As he hiked through the Fields of Fornost, he bested the Barghests, Wights and Shades there. The Fields of Fornost was not a welcoming place – indeed it was not, there was death and danger lurking everywhere, tombs and weathered ruins, barren fields of wild grass and sparse trees. Curgirion almost died quite a hefty amount of times but only survived through luck and skill.
After, two or three hours he finally arrived at the Norbury Gates at nightfall. He felt a sense of danger tingling at his skin and felt like that in the city of Fornost, there was much evil there. So he naturally drew out his trusted friend, Estebain and approached the ruined city, Fornost.
To be continued…
