T.A. 3013. Here follows the brief account of Faerduin, scribe of Tharbad, on the known histories of Tharbad and her people. I hope that it may be lengthened in the coming months - almost daily I stumble upon new discoveries - but the growing Darkness torments our borders, and I write hastily in the fear that these scrolls should fall to wretched hands yet again. We will not let our fair city be forgotten once more…

To the east lay Nîn-in-Eilph, the Swanfleet, a great marsh fed by the sluggish waters of Mitheithel and Glanduin. Swans took up residence among the tall reeds, gliding silently under the watchful gaze of the distant Misty Mountains. Turning to the north, one could faintly perceive the hills and vales of Minhiriath, apparently untouched by the hands of Man. Southward flowed a sea of green; the unending forests of Enedwaith that faded away into the warmer climes of Ered Nimrais. And to the west – ah, to the West! – the shallow banks of Gwathló meandered through the low country before widening into the Great Sea.

Such was the beauty of Tharbad, the River Crossing, upon its discovery by the Venturers of Numenor. Here they established an outpost to quench the burning thirst of industry, felling the southern forests to satisfy the ship-builders of Westernesse. Fortifications were raised about the great wood stores to repel the attacks of the natives – wild men who were troubled by the Ship-folk, wanting only the peace that they had known since the birth of Men. But peace would come to neither society, for as the eighteenth century of the Second Age dawned on Middle-earth, the Darkness of the East began its conquest of the West.

The armies of the Dark Lord swept across Eriador, defiling the land as they overtook the scattered resistance of Elves, Dwarves and Men. Gil-galad of Lindon understood the dire need of the Free Peoples and sent messengers to request the aid of Numenor. A great fleet set sail for the shores of Middle-earth, although late was the hour of its arrival. Sauron’s forces had reached the River Lune and Elrond was besieged within Imladris, but as the might of Numenor swept in from the Grey Havens and Vinyalondë, the tides of war were turned. The Master of the One was caught between the hammer and the anvil, at last being routed at the crossing of the Gwathló. He withdrew to the lands of the East, leaving Tharbad and the West to recover from the aftermath of war. For years to come, the Free Peoples of Eriador dwelt in peace.

Numenor had tasted power in Middle-earth and soon began to settle the western coasts. But the Dark Lord was not idle, and his persuasive tongue exploited their greed for supremacy. In a tale told elsewhere, darkness fell over Westernesse. The Isle of Numenor was drowned in the Great Sea, and few were spared the wrath of Valinor, but Elendil the Faithful escaped with his followers to the shores of Middle-earth. Here he established the Realms in Exile, and in the year 3320 of the Second Age, Arnor and Gondor were founded.

Tharbad’s existence now took on a renewed importance. The northern kingdom of Arnor lay a great distance from Gondor in the south, and great works were began to ease the passage of goods and troops between the two countries. The distance to Tharbad from Gondor was covered much quicker by water, and so the River Crossing was widened and deepened to allow ships to travel up the Gwathló to the North-South Road. Across the swift river was constructed a great stone bridge that descended into long causeways across the marshlands. A city soon began to grow about the Bridge of Tharbad, and the old river fort quickly became the chief establishment between the two kingdoms.

Time passed slowly by, leaving but the faintest mark on Tharbad and her people. The Third Age dawned on the lands of Eriador, and for hundreds of years the city stood proud, banners shimmering in the sunlight as the Free Peoples of Middle-earth dwelt in peace. The Dark Lord remained in the shadows of Mordor, weakened nearly to death by the armies of Gil-galad and Elendil. The glory of the River City had reached its height, but as whispers of fear stirred in the East, her light began to fade.

In the year 1636 of the Third Age, a great sickness came upon the southern countries of Middle-earth. It quickly spread north to the lands about Tharbad and took with it the lives of many. The Great Plague left Eriador a desolate place, but the city upon the Gwathló endured. Her walls stood strong until T.A. 2911, when floods followed the Fell Winter and swelled the Gwathló, drowning the River City. Those that remained in Tharbad were few, and she was soon left deserted, a treacherous ruin about the fens of the Swanfleet. Care of the North-South Road was neglected as attention was turned to the threats of Mordor, and the lands of Minhiriath and Enedwaith were forsaken by all but the strong of heart.

The city of Tharbad lay in ruins, but her memory lived on in the hearts of her people. Tales of her glory were passed down from father to son and from mother to daughter, growing in their grandeur with every generation. Tharbadians spread across Middle-earth and took up residence among the Free Peoples. From the streets of Bree to the grasslands of Rohan, from the shores of the Long Lake to the forests of Gondor, Tharbad’s descendants strengthened the dwindling communities of the West. So too they took up arms against the growing shadow of the East, hoping above all for times of peace in which them might return to their beloved city and restore her to her former glory.

Among these were Inferion and Sephira, two Bree-landers of Tharbadian descent. Inferion was said to be a master armsman, the son of a long line of warriors reaching back to the Tharbadian Guard. Sephira’s past was a greater mystery; a secret she entrusted to only Inferion, some say. Fate bound them in a curious manner, and brought them to the borders of Tharbad (these tales are written elsewhere) in the year T.A. 3009.

Here they discovered Tharbad to be defiled and in the hands of Dunlendings; a sight neither could bear to see...