The One Ring
A Númenórean Tale
A tale of the Second Age, hearkening back to the time when the House of Elrond was founded, tells of a Númenórean captain who passed through Tyrn Gorthad returning home from the battle fought at Sarn Ford where Sauron himself was routed. Traversing the hills the captain stumbled upon a place where a fierce battle had recently taken place. The bodies of many Orcs and other fell creatures were strewn across the hills, amidst the remains of a number of Elven warriors. The greatest number of dead enemies were arranged in a wide circle about the remains of a single Elf-lord, clad in a blood-soaked, once-golden cloak and wielding a bright blade.
“Mighty he must have been, even among the Eldar, though we knew not his name. I have never seen the like of his blade, silver run through with a black metal we could not identify. It had a curious name, engraved in the script of Eregion: ‘Dambeth Medui’ – ‘Last Answer’. We thought his people dead, it was long before we learned that some had survived, passing north. We buried him with honour in one of the eastern hills, his blade with him. A curious thing, one of my men told me that mallos flowers eventually grew on that hill, though otherwise, they have only been seen growing far to the south.”