Dunedain

"Please don't shoot... My name is Jacob Tolkienson! I'm just a simple wanderer and injured... an orc arrow hit me on the East Road and I had to cut it out... can you please help me?" begged Narzug, and the weapons of the Dunedain slowly and hesitantly lowered.

One of the women, a tall, well-trained woman with a scar across her forehead and a slight gray tinge in her black hair, said, "Elendras, look at the wound. The rest, see if this is a trap! Quickly!"

"He is telling the truth... it looks like he also tried to cauterize the wound."

"Lady Lindëwen, the surroundings are clear! He is alone..."

"Alright, pack up, we are retreating to Fornost for today! Elendras, what do you need to get the wanderer through?"

"A wrap of some Athelas and clean water should suffice for now, later I should sew him up, my lady," answered Elendras and immediately set to work.

Five minutes later, everything was packed, and Narzug had a new bandage with a poultice on his shoulder. While he was being treated, he had to weave his most complicated illusion so far to prevent the Dunedain from noticing that they were actually treating an orc body. But fortunately, everything worked.

The Dunedain started moving, and Narzug walked along, though he repeatedly requested breaks to indicate the severity of his injury.

"Damn it hurts... but any human probably wouldn't be able to walk at all! I'll play the tough guy and take breaks now and then, or they won't believe I'm a human!"

And so the journey began. They headed directly northeast, straight towards the ruins of Fornost.

Fornost, also known as Fornost Erain or Norbury, was once the capital of the northern kingdom of Arnor in the Third Age. The name Fornost Erain means "Northern Fortress of the Kings". After the fall of the original capital Annúminas, Fornost became the new capital of Arnor, serving as the seat of the kings and the center of power and administration.

Now, almost a thousand years later, Narzug could only see a few scattered tents, campfires, and simple wooden huts among the ruins.

"The dark armies of the Witch-king of Angmar have done a thorough job here," thought Narzug as he looked around. He was met with grim looks; the northern Dunedain led a hard and simple life, dedicated to protecting the south from threats and evil creatures from the north. It was a life of sacrifice and, in most cases, a short one.

Elendras said, "Ignore the grim looks... everyone here looks at strangers the same way. Come with me, wanderer, I'll sew your shoulder, and you'll be as good as new."

Together, the two went to the field hospital, and less than 30 minutes later, Narzug emerged with a well-treated shoulder.

Lindëwen Araniel, apparently the leader of the Dunedain in Fornost, was already waiting for him and scrutinized him with a critical eye.

"My name is Lindëwen Araniel, Lady of the Dunedain of Fornost. And now tell me your name, your reason for wandering through these woods, and how exactly the orc attack happened. Bear in mind, wanderer, if I don't like your answers, your stay here will be very short but exceedingly painful."

Narzug took a deep breath and then started bullshitting.

"As I said, my name is Jacob Tolkienson, I originally come from Rohan, the land of the horse lords. What brought me here? I would say a thirst for adventure and many reckless decisions. A wizard also played a role, though he probably doesn't know or doesn't want to know about it.

And finally, the orc attack... Three days ago, I was walking along the East Road, seeing where my heart would lead me. When a small, ugly orc jumped out of the woods in front of me, he met the blade of my axe directly. But there were two more orcs there; I was able to kill the next one too, but the third one fired an arrow before I could reach him. I was foolish and reckless... I tried to cauterize the wound, but it didn't work well; I should have cut out the tip first..."

Lindëwen looked thoughtful and then asked, "A wizard? Gandalf the Grey perhaps?"

Narzug, realizing he might have said something very foolish considering the close relationship between the Rangers of the North and Gandalf, quickly denied it.

"No, no, not that old harbinger of bad news! He called himself Pallanto the Blue, I met him in Rhun. A truly eccentric old man. Do you know him?"

Lindëwen merely shook her head. "You can stay here for a while. However, you must earn your food and a dry place to sleep with hard work, and you will remain under observation."

She went directly into her wooden hut and returned shortly afterward with a raven and a letter.

The letter read:

Gandalf, we continue to protect northern Eriador.

So far, no dark creatures have penetrated the Shire.

Our numbers are dwindling, and it is becoming nearly impossible to keep all the roads clear. Evil comes more frequently and grows stronger. We will soon need more rangers.

We have taken in a wanderer who spoke of a wizard, Pallanto the Blue, please confirm the story, does this wizard exist?

I hope we can maintain the fight.

Regards,

Lindëwen Araniel

She tied the letter to the raven's leg and whispered something into its ear. The raven immediately flew off to deliver the message to Gandalf.

Narzug watched everything intently, but could not read what was written in the letter.

"Hopefully, she bought my story..." thought Narzug, as he explored the ruins of Fornost.

He quickly adapted to life here and learned much about the Dúnedain through the stories and legends they told. Some of the facts he already knew but had forgotten, others were entirely new to him.

The Dúnedain of the North were descendants of the once mighty kings of Arnor, and thus also of the Númenóreans. After their kingdom split into the three successor states of Arthedain, Cardolan, and Rhudaur, and these realms eventually fell to decay and destruction by Angmar and other enemies, the Dúnedain now lived in scattered communities as wandering rangers. Their way of life was marked by constant vigilance and the relentless fight against the forces of evil that threatened northern Eriador.

The Dúnedain often led a nomadic life, constantly on the move and rarely staying in one place. They lived in small, often secret communities scattered across the wilderness. Their settlements were simple and well-camouflaged to protect them from enemies and unwanted visitors. They used caves, abandoned ruins, and self-built huts as shelters. These hidden camps served as temporary rest stops where they replenished supplies and rested before heading out on their patrols through the forests and valleys.

Fornost was one of the biggest settlements.

The Dúnedain were masterful rangers and survivalists who had perfected the arts of hunting, tracking, and moving silently through the wilderness. Their clothing was sturdy and practical, usually in earthy tones to blend into the natural surroundings. They wore long cloaks and hoods that protected them from the elements and helped them remain concealed in the environment.

A significant part of their life was the use and care of kingsfoil, which they called "Athelas." This healing plant was particularly valuable as it could alleviate even severe injuries and poisons. The Dúnedain had a deep knowledge of the healing powers of nature and knew how to make remedies from various plants and herbs.

The Dúnedain community was led by leaders who held the title "Chieftain." Here, Lindëwen Araniel held this title. As the guardian and leader of the Dúnedain, she was not only a warrior but also a wise and experienced leader who preserved the old traditions and wisdom of her people.

The Dúnedain were also keepers of the knowledge and history of their people. They preserved the memories of the glorious days of Arnor and the achievements of their ancestors. In songs and stories, they recounted the heroic deeds of the kings and the old times when their people ruled over great realms. These tales were passed down from generation to generation and helped keep the spirit and pride of the Dúnedain alive.

The Dúnedain of the North fought tirelessly against the dark forces that threatened their land and kept the roads and paths of northern Eriador safe. Despite their small numbers, they had a significant impact on the safety and stability of the region. They often worked in secrecy and were hardly noticed by most inhabitants of Middle-earth, but their deeds were invaluable.

In daily life, the Dúnedain placed great value on community and cohesion.

Initially, it was very difficult for Narzug to find acceptance, but after several months, he was increasingly integrated.

Despite their harsh lifestyle, they found time for celebrations and communal activities that strengthened their bonds. They appreciated the simple joys of life, such as sharing stories around the campfire or singing old songs.

Overall, life among the Dúnedain in the ruins of Fornost was characterized by hardship, bravery, and a deep sense of duty and honor. Despite the constant threats and hardships they faced, they steadfastly adhered to their ideals and contributed to preserving their people's legacy and protecting Middle-earth from the dark forces.

After half a year of working together, many of the Dúnedain already regarded Narzug as one of their own. He fought with them against the hordes of evil and was a strong ally. Even outside of battles, many found in Narzug an interested and dedicated 'man' whom many of the Dúnedain increasingly trusted.

Lindëwen also became fond of him, until one day she received a reply from Gandalf.

There are two blue wizards, but I have forgotten their names. Pallanto could well be the name of one of the blue wizards. I will write again if I learn more.

More importantly...

Trust no strangers. Evil walks cloaked through the world. Never trust your eyes, only trust the voice in your heart.

Gandalf

After she had read this letter, a shiver ran down her spine.

"Is Jacob evil? My eyes say no, but what does my heart tell me? I can't say... I definitely have to be very careful!"

From that day on, she observed Narzug once again with utmost criticality and precision.

Yet over time, this caution faded once more. After all, Narzug had been with the Dunedain for almost four years now and lived as one of them. Lindëwen said to herself: "He is too good of a man to be evil. No, he fights it every day anew with blood and pain!"

And so the days passed quickly for Narzug. He enjoyed the simple but adventurous life of the Rangers. He improved and learned new things daily from the experienced Rangers. Narzug became a decent archer, learned to hunt, and also his martial skills with Ira improved continuously through training fights.

"When I look back, I only used to swing my axe as hard as I could... but now? My skills are refined and tempered!"

One day, Narzug was tending to the small fields of hardy winter wheat with Elendras, when a young Ranger arrived in Fornost.

Narzug had never seen him before, yet he seemed uncannily familiar to him.

The young Ranger drew his sword and stood in the middle of the ruins.

"My name is Estel, the Hope! I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and I have come to claim my inheritance!"