Meriadoc stood silently as tears welled in his eyes, seemingly unnoticed by those around him. Before him lay his weapon, the blade smoldering like a dry branch thrust into a fierce fire; and as he watched, it twisted, withered, and was consumed by the flames. Thus ended the sword of the Barrow-Downs, a creation of Westernesse. Yet, glad would the artisan have been to see its fate, having crafted it ages ago in the infancy of the North-Kingdom when the Dunedain stood bravely against the menacing realm of Angmar and its sorcerer king. No other blade, even in mightier hands, could have inflicted such a grievous wound on that foe, severing the undead flesh and dispelling the enchantment that bound his invisible sinews to his will.