[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Túrin son of Húrin was a man strong and proud, a hero of old times, and his deeds were great in the lands of Beleriand in ages long gone. But his fate was dark and sorrowful, for the curse of Morgoth the Dark Lord lay on him and his kin. His tale is fulltold in that lay that is called Narn i Hîn Húrin, the Tale of the Children of Húrin. Here of that tale is told but a small part, for it is the longest of all the ancient tales.
When Túrin was young, his mother sent him to Doriath, where king Thingol received him and raised him. Túrin grew fair and strong in Doriath, and became the companion in arms of Beleg Cúthalion. But he came into enmity with Saeros, an elf from king's court, and Saeros assailed him in the woods; but Túrin overcame him and Saeros fleeing in terror before him fell into the chasm of a stream. In fear of punishment, Túrin left Doriath and joined himself to a band of such houseless and desperate men as could be found in those evil days lurking in the wild. Gaurwaith, wolf-men they were called, and Túrin became their leader and led them away westward out of Sirion's vale; for they grew weary of their life without rest, ever watchful and in fear of pursuit, and they sought for a safer lair.

And it chanced at a time of evening that they came upon three Dwarves, who fled before them; but one that lagged behind was seized and thrown down, and a man of the company took his bow and let fly an arrow at the others as they vanished in the dusk. Now the dwarf that they had taken was named Mîm; and he pleaded for his life before Túrin, and offered as ransom to lead them to his hidden halls which none might find without his aid. Then Túrin pitied Mîm, and spared him; and he said: "Where is your house?"
Then Mîm answered: "High above the lands lies the house of Mîm, upon the great hill; Amon Rûdh is that hill called now, since the Elves changed all the names."
Then Túrin was silent, and he looked long upon the dwarf; and at last he said: "You shall bring us to that place."

The company set westward, and Túrin went at the head with Mîm at his side. They walked warily when they left the woods, but all the land was empty and quiet. They passed over the tumbled stones, and began to climb; for Amon Rûdh stood upon the eastern edge of the high moorlands that rose between the vales of Sirion and Narog, and even above the stony heath at its base its crown was reared up a thousand feet and more. Upon the eastern side a broken land climbed slowly up to the high ridges among knots of birch and rowan, and ancient thorn-trees rooted in rock. About the lower slopes of Amon Rûdh there grew thickets of aeglos; but its steep grey head was bare, save for the red seregon that mantled the stone.
As the afternoon was waning the outlaws drew near to the roots of the hill. They came now from the north, for so Mîm had led them, and the light of the westering sun fell upon the crown of Amon Rûdh, and the seregon was all in flower.
Then one among them said: "See! There is blood on the hill-top."
"Not yet," said Túrin.