Meriadoc Stood There, Artwork

And yet Meriadoc stood there, tears blurring his vision, unnoticed and unspoken to by those around him. Behold! His weapon lay before him, its blade smoking like a parched branch cast into flames. As he watched, it twisted, withered, and vanished. Thus ended the sword of the Barrow-Downs, forged in the days of Westernesse. The one who forged it long ago, in the northern realm of the young Dunedain, would be gratified to know its final fate. No other sword, no matter how powerful its wielder, could have struck so deeply. It cut through the spectral flesh and shattered the spell that bound invisible sinews to the sorcerer's will, dealing a grievous blow to that ominous realm of Angmar and its dark ruler.