Malphegor
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LOTR: TMCP Ch. 321
🕑 Added 2025-10-31 03:30:12 +0000 UTC"Feasibility Report on the Complete Purge of Angmar."
In the year 2992 of the Third Age, inside Wayfort, Garrett reviewed a new proposal submitted by the Ranger Legion and found himself suddenly more alert.
After decades of concerted effort, and with Garrett's personal intervention, the Ettenmoors, which bordered Angmar, had already been substantially cleared several years prior.
The mountain trolls and orcs that once plagued that wasteland had been eradicated, and the remaining few had retreated deep into the mountains.
As for the forest between Wayfort and Rivendell, once called the Trollshaws due to frequent troll sightings, the name had long since lost its meaning.
There hadn't been a single troll there in years.
This had been thoroughly verified over the past few decades, the Rangers had swept through that dark forest hundreds of times and confirmed not a single troll remained.
The area was thus marked as a "relatively safe zone." Many merchants and travelers passing by would even make a detour to view the three petrified trolls.
So many folk had visited that the path from the main road to the trolls' former lair had been trampled flat, a small trail formed entirely by countless footsteps.
Back to the matter at hand, beyond the Trollshaws lay the Ettenmoors, and beyond the Ettenmoors stood Angmar itself.
In former days, the danger increased progressively across those three regions. None would even glance toward them, fearful that some man-eating creature might emerge at any moment.
But now, both the Trollshaws and the Ettenmoors had been thoroughly cleansed. The former was now deemed "relatively safe," and the latter, with few enemies remaining, was mostly pacified.
As for the final region, Angmar...
Even Garrett couldn't help but feel a headache as he studied the report before him.
If one were to treat these three regions as escalating challenges, then clearing the Trollshaws would count as "moderate difficulty." Once you discovered the right method, you could eliminate the enemies with reasonable safety.
The Ettenmoors would count as "hard mode," home to hordes of mountain trolls, orcs, and warg packs. Even with sufficient manpower, it required meticulous planning, thorough preparation, and confidence before any action could be undertaken.
Of course, Garrett's fortification project had effectively lowered the difficulty by an entire tier, giving the Rangers an almost unbreakable defensive line to fall back upon.
But beyond the Ettenmoors lay Angmar.
In truth, clearing the Ettenmoors hadn't consumed that much of the Rangers' time. What had truly exhausted them over the years was determining how to contend with that densely infested land beyond.
From the firsthand account of a legion champion:
"The place is utterly infested with enemies. Large ones, small ones, trolls, orcs, warg packs... The moment you advance a hundred meters inside, it's like sinking into a swamp. You can scarcely move at all. And just when you believe you've cleared the path ahead, you look up and see eyes. On the mountains, in the woods, in the pits, all around you, staring back. It makes your skin crawl."
The difficulty of conquering Angmar was categorically extreme.
According to the "Feasibility Report on the Complete Purge of Angmar," if they wished to minimize casualties and proceed as smoothly as possible, it would require at least another ten years of preparation before launching the final comprehensive cleansing.
Of course, that was the most cautious plan. A more aggressive strategy could shorten the timeline considerably, but Garrett had consistently refused to adopt any plan that might cause excessive losses.
"There's no need to rush. We're not being pursued by anything," he concluded after reading the report.
"We must value our lives. I won't permit unnecessary casualties merely for the sake of haste."
The overall strategy of Wayfort was conservative.
Extremely conservative.
Though to many outsiders, it already seemed wildly aggressive.
After all, in the current state of Middle-earth, aside from the Free Settlements, even the most peaceful and prosperous realms wouldn't dream of completely eliminating the mountain trolls, orc hosts, and warg dens that haunted those cursed highlands.
Merely considering the manpower such an undertaking would require was enough to make one's scalp prickle. After such a campaign, there would be no resources left for further development. The realm might as well dissolve on the spot and return to being scattered tribes.
Just like the wanderers.
"One could say..."
One night, Garrett found Halbarad resting atop the walls of Wayfort.
He was gazing at the stars.
"You've met Aragorn, haven't you?" he asked.
"I have," Halbarad replied, smiling warmly. "And I've seen the Elendilmir."
He looked content.
"Once again, thank you."
Garrett clasped him firmly on the shoulder.
"Don't speak words that make me uncomfortable between the two of us," he said with a grin.
Then, returning to his earlier thought, Garrett asked, "What do you think of Aragorn?"
"He's a leader one can follow with confidence," Halbarad answered without hesitation, his voice firm and resolute.
Garrett nodded silently and said nothing further.
The wall fell quiet. After a long moment, he suddenly spoke again, "Have you ever thought about restoring your kingdom?"
"Restoring... the kingdom?"
"Yes. Rebuilding Arnor. Restoring your realm."
Hearing that, Halbarad couldn't help but turn his full attention toward Garrett.
"You know people call you the Lord of the North, don't you?"
"Of course I do."
"Then you should also know that when Arnor still stood, it was called the Northern Kingdom."
"That need not be a conflict."
Halbarad was momentarily speechless at that reply.
It was true. The entire region of Eriador was now under the direct administration of the Free Settlements. Even the surrounding territories were within their sphere of influence, enjoying peace and prosperity.
Yet Garrett had made no effort to expand further or claim new lands for himself.
Places like Forochel on the northern coast beyond the Shire, the Barrow-downs, the North Downs, South Downs, and Bree-land in between, all had once been part of the Kingdom of Arnor. They still bore the ruins of its old cities, fortresses, and watchtowers.
And Garrett had left every one of them untouched.
"I've always remembered," Garrett said quietly. "That was your people's homeland, wasn't it?"
Not only he remembered. Everyone did. Even the libraries of the Shire recorded it: the Kingdom of Arnor had fought for the Free Peoples. They had resisted the Witch-king's Angmar with all their might and, in the end, fought themselves to ruin and dissolution.
Fortunately, the Witch-king's realm of Angmar was also destroyed, its remaining forces scattered and hiding, barely clinging to survival.
It was, in a way, mutual annihilation.
As for why the Shire's histories recorded it, that was because the Hobbits themselves had taken part in that final war. They had sent a company of archers to aid the fight.
That was considered their duty fulfilled. After all, the Shire itself had once been Arnorian land, later granted to the Hobbits by the King of Arnor of that age.
In return, the King had only required that the Hobbits "maintain the roads and bridges, and acknowledge the crown so that the King's messengers could travel freely."
Nothing more.
The fact that Hobbits had fought in the war against Angmar's Witch-king must have surprised many of the Dúnedain of Arnor at the time.
They were a brave folk, one who always managed to astonish those who underestimated them.
"If that day ever comes," Garrett said at last, "I'll give my full support. As repayment to the Rangers of this land, and to your chieftain, who has served faithfully for so many years."
