Tol Himling, cradled by the waves; Once a castle, now but a hill

Though the lands of Beleriand now hide in Ulmo's embrace, Tol Himling still rises above the silvered waters, and the fortress atop it, though reduced to ruins, stands as proud as ever, its silouette charred black against the northern skies.

Once raised by Fёanarion hands, then defiled by orcs - the ruins of Himring now lie abandoned. But, in their loneliness, they are never truly alone. The seagulls - a different kind of watchful guardians, - keep them company. But they newer nest upon the cracked walls. For they say that ghosts roam the dark shores of Himling: ghosts of warriors long gone, those who lay down their lives protecting the castle.

As the wind wails, listen closely... Do the waves crush upon the rocky land or do the armies crash together? Are those rocks falling or is it a distant echo, a call of those lost to centuries, a shadow of greater times?

And whose shadow is it that wanders there, on the crumbled bastion? Perhaps, the Lord of Himring himself... Or perhaps it's but a trick of the light. For the fortress of Himring rests, forsaken. And none dare disturb its rest.



Author's note: Maedhros is my favourite character of The Legendarium, and I often find myself thinking of his fate, his valiant deeds and his tragic death. Thus, Himring is my favourite place to escape to in the vast world of Arda. I'm planning to do a series of ambients, focusing on different areas of the fortress at different times.

Come, escape with me.

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