(Old Quenya) Thúrëndilion (Thúrën+dil+ion): Friend of the wind's son, Father name

(Quenya) Istimo (Istima+o): Knowledgeable one, Mother name

Born sometime during the Long Peace period in the First Age of Middle Earth in Barad Eithel of Hithlum, the seat of the High Kings. His parents followed prince Fingolfin across Helcarax, and though many did not make it through the icy wasteland, they were among the first of their kin to set foot in Middle Earth. Staying true to their Ruler, they settled in Hithlum, and eventually moved to the newfound capital, where their firstborn came to life.

His father, Thúrëndil, followed High King Fingon's force and the allied union of elves, men and dwarves against Melkor's armies and it was said that many orcs and trolls found death at the edge of his sword and spear before he was finally overwhelmed and left his last breath in the charred plains of Ard-Galen. Thus concluded the battle of Unnumbered Tears.

Young Thúrëndilion and his mother barely escaped Barad Eithel as refugees and eventually fled to Gondolin, now that the High King was dead and Melkor's forces marched throughout Beleriand. It was by the very day of their flight that Thúrëndilion swore revenge on Melkor and the men who betrayed his kin's trust.

He spent most part of each day for the years to come practicing alone according to what his father has tutored him during their time together in Barad Eithel, the way of spear and shield. Disturbing news arrived eventually of how the sons of Feanor and their followers turned against their own kin at Menegroth. The events troubled Thúrëndilion deeply, but he was dedicated to his righteous cause too much to allow even such ominous event to distract him. His mother on the other hand, could not bear the burden of these events. Years of war, constant loss and now atrocities between her own kin took quite a toll on her soul. She soon volunteered to secretly sail to Valinor on behalf of king Turgon in search of pardon and aid from the Valar, as a few others have attempted before her. With tearful eyes she kissed her son goodbye, offered him her blessing and departed. Naturally, she never returned.

A few years passed and Thúrëndilion kept making steady progress in his martial prowess, now taking part in patrols and hunting parties around and beyond the outskirts of Gondolin through crevices and hidden passages of the encircling mountains. The day would come when he was accepted into the House of the Harp, serving as the youngest member of its guard, a group of valiant and skillfull warriors. During a sparring session amongst the Gondolin houses combatants, Thúrëndilion came to appreciate the extraordinary ability of a certain man who he was said was the betrothed of the High King's daughter, one named Tuor. In due time the mortal would make Thúrëndilion realise that despite the Noldor's occasional mistrust toward men, some were certainly capable of being worthy companions and even destined for greatness, the kind of greatness both their kinds needed to win this war.

During the events  of Gondolin's fall Thúrëndilion's company angrily defied their Chief's betrayal and rashed to their kinsmen's aid along the armed forces of the King and the other great houses of Gondolin. During the havoc that followed, Thúrëndilion's company quickly suffered heavy losses by the enemy's sheer number and under the fiery breath of dragons and poisoned arrows of the orcs, they finally found themselves surrounded at the city's market. Still, by the unmatched discipline and heroic actions of their brothers and sisters in arms, a small number of their group managed to break through the enemy's lines and retreat through the city's smaller alleys to the Square of the King where the remaining forces of the Noldor still held.

Melkor's host rallied before them and attacked, their force led by Gothmog himself while the remaining defenders rallied behind their King and the mortal Tuor. Thúrëndilion followed the last of his comrades to the first line of defense and formed a wall of shields and spears to halt the impetuous sea of enemies heading their way. Despite their unquestionable valor, the Balrogs and dragons on the opposing force's vanguard quickly broke their formation and the first Noldorin line of defence was scattered in moments, most of the proud warriors instantly battered to death or burned alive. Thúrëndilion's last memory before losing his consciousness was being dragged away helpless by the last few survivors of his house while meters away from them the warriors with the Golden Flower on their cloaks hopelessly struggled to slow the enemy's relentless advance.

He woke up days later somewhere along the coast of Sirion severely injured and as the rest of the survivors, carrying great grief and sorrow.

((Backstory currently in progress))