The Morthond wound away south and west until it disappeared behind a range of low hills some miles away. In the clear morning air he could see for league upon league as the land fell gradually away. It must have been enormously heavy, for even half-buried it stood nearly as tall as the man as he stood beside it and gazed south down the valley.

It was a huge black globe, as smooth as glass. Then, puffing and blowing at the icy water, he pulled his cloak more tightly about himself and stalked up to the top of a rounded hill that stood beside the village.Īt the top of the hill, half-buried in the ground, was a strange stone. He bent to splash his face with water from a basin filled by the woman. He wore a long tunic of coarse-spun undyed wool, leather boots stuffed with straw against the chill air, and he had a large black fur drawn about his shoulders. He too looked about at the day, stretching and scratching. Then the first man appeared, stooping under the log lintel of his door.

Soon a thin vertical stream of smoke was rising from each smoke-hole. Soon others joined her, a woman or a child from each of the twenty or so low sod-roofed houses clustered along the stream. She stood a moment, yawning and looking up at the brightening sky, then she picked up a wooden bucket and went down to the Morthond stream to fetch water. Then a low door creaked open and a woman stepped out of a rough stone cottage. A clatter of small rocks betrayed the presence of a marmot setting out on his daily search for food among the rocks at the foot of the cliffs. The hoarse croak of a raven drifted faintly down through the still air as the rising sun touched the rocky heights above. Though the year was drawing on to midsummer, frost sparkled from the tips of each grass blade, for the valley was high in the flanks of the Ered Nimrais, the White Mountains that are the rocky backbone of Gondor, Land of Stone. Morning mists still hovered above the small icy stream winding down the floor of the valley. The valley of Morthond was still, save for the tumble and splash of water on stone. The Grey Havens - Songs & Tales: Isildur - Chapter One

Lost lore of gorgoroth udun