His parents and he were living in a settlement near Trestlebridge with his aunt, or that’s how he knew the woman that looked after him when his parents were out of home for many days, even weeks and months. Eventually they would return, tired and scarred, saying that they were out in the farms, gathering their produce so that they’d sell it in the weekly market. When his parents were around Haldothir was learning to fight and track by his father and ride and use the bow by his mother. He learned to fight with the sword and spear and his mother also taught him how to be silent and sneak up on his opponents. They were teaching him from a young age everything they knew. From how to use his surroundings to how to fight in an open field and sometimes telling him stories of their history, of the great kingdom of Arnor and legends of old. They knew that they wouldn’t stay by his side as much as they wanted. It was their heritage and task that would rip them violently from his life a fateful night.
It was at his 6th age when they had just returned from the farms that knew that that they were at, exhausted as always they hugged and kissed the little boy and went to the house to bathe and sleep. Haldothir knew that they needed to rest, so he made no fuss about it, he passed his day as always, knowing that the following days he would spend with his so loving parents. The boy spent the day in the fields with his friends and when the night fell he went straight home, to his surprise his parents were awake and they had dinner as family, it was long since they did that. The boy asked many questions about their work, wondering why they had to be away for so long when a horn sounded from afar. His parents looked at each other uneasily and kept silent; waiting to hear more, not long after the horn, the sound of marching reached their ears. The two had Haldothir and his aunt locked themselves in a hidden room in the house and went out to fight. That is where he saw it for the first and last time.
His parents, dressed in green and brown, barely recognizable were out of the house fighting. Orcs attacked the settlement and they went out there to help the villagers, along with two or three other kinsmen. The fight was tough and despite his aunt’s orders, Haldothir kept watching, his parents were out there fighting, like the warriors in their stories. They resembled the mighty defenders of Arnor in the stories that they were telling him, as they fought fiercely as one. They looked with bated breath until suddenly an arrow pierced his father’s chest, Haldothir saw him leaping in front of his mother and taking it, he died instantly causing his wife’s sorrow and anger. The woman kept fighting, though the exhaustion of those days that she was out was apparent on her. Three orcs surrounded her and managed to take her down, piercing her many times with their swords.
They boy witnessed the orcs’ brutality towards his parents and the inhabitants of the settlement as they killed them even after their surrender; they showed no sign of hesitation, their eyes burned red with hatred as they killed the innocent farmers and merchants. After his parents’ deaths his aunt ran out of the room in panic and she got caught and killed as well, leaving Haldothir all alone in that room, not even daring to breathe until the morning came. Remember what his parents taught him he got out of the room and made sure that no orcs remained in the settlement and went straight to his parents’ bodies; they were laying there, his mother on top of his father as they died. The boy mourned their deaths, in his mind recalling images of their fall and the slaughtering of the village. The houses were still smoking when a company of men, all dressed like his parents when they died arrived at the spot, they made sure that no survivors were left and chased away anything that was still close to the place and when leaving they took Haldothir with them to Esteldin.
The first face that he saw over him that day was the man that later became his mentor, his father and his friend. Daervunn, he said that he was a friend of his parents and taught Haldothir as the years passed; he taught him how to fight and improve his skills and told him of his heritage. His full name was Haldothir Thenidron, a man whose origins could be traced back to the old kingdom of Arnor, continuing into the times of Arthedain and now he was the sole survivor of his line. One of his grandfathers was called Thenidron in honour of his loyalty and from then on his descendants kept carrying the name. Now it was up to him to keep the family name high.
It was in one of his first raids in an orc encampment that Haldothir showed his relentlessness against orcs or anything evil. He would kill them without any second thoughts; his grey eyes would remain cold and void of any emotions as he performed the action. He would never show any mercy to his enemies, even if they had vital information, he’d prefer to find out something by himself, rather than listening to them. He was swift to swing his sword and cut their lives. That made Daervunn give him his name, when Haldothir came of age.
-From now on thou shall be called Guruthos, the Shadow of Death, for your blade mercilessly strikes your enemies without a second thought or hesitation.
That name pleased Haldothir greatly; his naming was one of the rare times that he was seen smiling…
