Gurthang

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"The sword Anglachel was forged anew for him by the cunning smiths of Nargothrond, and though ever black its edges shone with pale fire."
—The Children of Húrin


Gurthang is a Sindarin name, consisting of the elements gurth ("death") + ang ("iron").

"Yea, I will drink thy blood gladly, that so I may forget the blood of Beleg my master, and the blood of Brandir slain unjustly. I will slay thee swiftly."-Gurthang

Gurthang is said to be a recreation of past dragons...whether that's true or not is up to you to decide. A loud and brash dragon, he is not afraid to fight, even kill, other dragons-justly or unjust. He is best friends with Turin and does his bidding. He is not well liked by the rest of the lair due to his habit of sitting on top of Turin's head and screeching at anything that moves.

Turin eyed the leaf-woven door curiously. Behind the door lay Wizard's lab; and Turin had heard quite a few tall tales about the place. At least he presumed they were just yarns. Mutant dragons? Magic potions? Shapeshifting horses? They all just had to be rumors. Then Turin remembered his true purpose; Wizard had summoned him to the lair. It was rare for any of the dragons to see Wizard, much less the mysterious lab. Shrugging, the large guardian shoved the door aside and stepped in.

"Welcome, friend-I was beginning to think you would not come." The tan pearlcatcher had heard Turin step in and glanced up from his work to greet him. "Come in, come in-don't mind Woody over there." Turin looked across the room and had to do a double take-was that...a dragon? It was big enough for sure. If so, what was up with all the spikes? Whatever it was, it smiled a large toothy grin and nodded politely, making Turin feel obliged to return the greeting.

"I asked you here to give you something. I have kept it safe for the time being, waiting for everything to fall into place. .and when you were brought here I knew you were the chosen one. What I am about to give you will shape your destiny. Both you and the future of dragonkind rest upon it, so prophecy foretells." Wizard used his tail to adjust the hat on his head and looked Turin square in the eyes. "And now you are grown, I feel this is the right time to entrust you to this." Wizard used his claws to grab a box from under a nearby workbench. He sat down and with his front feet carefully lifted a small egg out.

Turin eyed the egg. It was unlike any he had seen before. Purple and bumpy. Who knew what flight it came from. "This. This is a nocturne egg. These eggs are quite rare, and are born of magic. You must incubate it, although I am not sure how long it will take. Take care of it, it is quite important you do." Before Turin could even open his mouth to protest, Wizard was shoving the tiny egg towards Turin. "Now go, fulfill its destiny."

Turin lumbered out, egg clutched by his tail. "What the heck am I going to do with this...everyone is going to laugh at me if they see me with an egg." He eyed his gift warily. Wizard was crazy...but he was right about his armor of lava. And he knew he would need to find his purpose. Maybe fate was presenting itself. Turin sighed and walked carefully to his corner of the lair, setting the egg between his two large front feet.

Turin guarded his charge with fierceness. The dragons of the lair were quite curious about his sudden mood change, but Turin remained steadfast. As time went by, he wondered about the egg. What would be in it...what would it look like? He had never heard of a nocturne before.

Finally the day came when Turin felt a small jittering between his front paws. He let go, and a tiny claw emerged. Moments later, a very small dragon was staring up into the blue eyes of his caretaker. It blinked and stretched its tiny wings, then climbed up on Turin's foot and screeched. Turin gently lifted his foot so he could look closer at the dragon he just hatched. A feeling of fatherly love swept over him...Wizard was right again. He had his charge, and now felt complete. The tiny dragon scrambled up onto Turin's wide forehead and up to the top, where he settled himself down between Turin's horns.