Under the darkened canopy of Mirkwood, I watched as shadows crept deeper with each passing year, twisting roots and spreading unease among the once-peaceful creatures. I felt the change acutely; the forest’s whispers, once calming, now carried an edge of distress. Determined to uncover the source and halt the encroaching shadow from Dol Guldur, I left the comfort of familiar pathways and ventured beyond the woodland realm for the first time around the year T.A. 2550, on the eve of my hundredth year.
My journey carried me swiftly toward the borders where the splendor of Greenwood the Great had long faded into grim twilight. Animals, once companions, now watched me warily from the underbrush, their eyes filled with anxiety and mistrust. My heart ached to see the toll the creeping darkness had taken upon the wild things I had long cherished.
On the fourth day of my travels, I reached the forest’s edge, a place of rocky outcrops crowned with gnarled, weathered pines. The stillness shattered with a sharp cry. Ahead, lying upon the stone, was a wounded longbeak craban. Its feathers were glossy black, streaked red with blood from an injured wing. Looming above it was a corrupted warg, its eyes glinting with unnatural malice in the dim twilight.
Without hesitation, I drew my bow and loosed an arrow. It struck true near the warg’s feet, startling it back. I stepped forward, sword in hand, placing myself between predator and prey. The warg snarled but retreated grudgingly into the shadows, unwilling to risk further confrontation.
I sheathed my sword and turned to the craban, who met my gaze with wary, intelligent eyes.
“Be calm, friend,” I whispered in the language of my people. “I seek only to help.”
I approached carefully and knelt beside the injured creature. With gentle hands, I wrapped its damaged wing and applied a soothing herbal ointment from my satchel, murmuring soft reassurances. The bird watched me closely but did not flee. Its suspicion gave way, slowly, to cautious trust.
I made camp nearby. For several days, I tended to the craban, offering food, water, and care until strength returned to its wing. Yet when it had healed fully, it did not fly away. Instead, it climbed upon my shoulder with quiet confidence, and I knew then that a bond had been forged—one of mutual respect and unspoken loyalty.
“You are strong and clever, friend,” I said with a smile. “You shall be Gwathren, Shadowy One, and together we will unravel this darkness and restore balance to these lands.”
From that moment forward, Gwathren never left my side. A faithful companion with sharp eyes and swift wings, he aided me greatly in my quest. Together, we journeyed onward—protector and companion—united in purpose, bound by trust, and guided always by the light we sought to preserve.