Few Men had the courage to enter the Paths of the Dead, but one such man was

a prince of Rohan.
Baldor the Hapless.

Today’s video is about Baldor, son of Brego, not only a prince of Rohan, but the heir to the throne.
But Never would he sit on that throne as the dead of Dwimorberg would claim his life and leave his
father greaving until it consumed him and killed him as well.

The year was 2570 of the Third Age, when Baldor was born, Rohan was still a young kingdom that
had only existed for 60 years. 60 years ago a young Lord of the Éothéod named Eorl had aided
Gondor against the Easterlings and thus been granted the land that is now known as Rohan. Eorl’s
son Brego had become king after Eorl’s untimely death in 2545.
And it was now under his rule. But in all directions there were enemies- Orcs, Dunlendings, and
easterlings. Brego was a great king and in his time his people still migrated into Rohan.
He finished the golden hall of Meduseld and moved to capital to Edoras.

When his first son was born he was so happy, and Baldor quickly became very dear to him. Brego
would later get two other sons named Aldor and Eofor.

Baldor grew up, but was prideful. Perhaps this was because of his father’s generous love for him.
Baldor’s pride grew with the years and as many young men throughout the ages, he acted as if he
were immortal. This sparkled a fear in Brego’s heart and he began to keep an eye on his son and his
whereabouts.

One day in 2569 Brego and Baldor rode through Rohan and followed the river Snowbourn. They
followed it south to it’s source and entered Harrowdale. It was empty and silent. Only the wind
could be hear and the wind whispered to them. They rode further south and saw the ancient
structure of the men of the mountains. Dunharrow. Brego wanted to turn back, but in Baldor there
was no fear to be found and so he began climbing the stair of the hold. Brego worried for his son
and followed with him.
They came before the Dark Door. On the threshold sat an old man, aged beyond guess of years; tall
and kingly he had been, but now he was withered as an old stone. Indeed for stone they took him,
for he moved not, and he said no word, until they sought to pass him by and enter. And then a voice
came out of him, as it were out of the ground, and to their amaze it spoke in the western tongue:
The way is shut.
'Then they halted and looked at him and saw that he lived still; but he did not look at them. The way
is shut, his voice said again It was made by those who are Dead, and the Dead keep it, until the time
comes. The way is shut.
'And when will that time be? said Baldor. But no answer did he ever get. For the old man died in that
hour and fell upon his face; and no other tidings of the ancient dwellers in the mountains have the
Rohirrim ever learned.'

Brego convinced his son to follow him back to Edoras, but Baldor could not forget the words of the
old man and his curiosity kept him awake at night.
That year in 2569 Meduseld stood finished and Brego held a grand feast in the hall. All the lords of
Rohan were invited and the hall was full of laughter, cheering and dancing. Baldor’s brothers had
come too all the way from Aldburg.
Baldor climbed his table near his father’s seat. He stood with a full horn of mead and bade them all
be be silent. All laughter and cheering died out in the hall and everybody turned towards the king
and his heir. All eyes looked upon Baldor, but Brego’s eyes were full of fear, for he knew what was
troubling the mind of the young prince. Baldor vowed to tread the paths of the dead and pass the
Dark Door. He would not be taken by fear he yelled, and drained his horn.
Some men cheered, while others became silent. Brego tried to talk some sense into Baldor, but
Baldor would not listen.

The year after when the last snow had melted Baldor began to prepare. Baldor was clad in mail with
harness and gilded hauberk. His belt was of gold and garnets, and rich with gold was the helm upon
his head. His sword, worthy of a king, was of the finest quality in the land.
He said farewell to his father and brothers as the entrance to Meduseld. The people stood on either
side of the road as he rode out the gate towards Harrowdale.
Like the year before he found himself again before the Dark Door. His horse dared not go any
further, so he sent it back. He now stood alone at the entrance. With one hand he held a torch and
with the other his sword.
He found the courage to enter the mountain and walked through the darkness with his torch held
high. There were silent as the grave. No whispers as he had imagined. It encouraged him to go on,
deeper into the darkness.
He came to a room and before him an open stone-door led to a room full of treasures. The darkness
around him grew and the fire from his torched dimmed down. The way behind him seemed to
disappear.
He walked towards the room, but the door began closing as he moved forward. He began running,
but out of the darkness a long shadowy hand grabbed his legs and broke them both in one fell
swoop.
He fell near the far wall of the cave and screamed in agony. The door was still closing. He reached
out. clawing to the cracks in it, but to no avail. The whispers around him laughed at him, like they
had set up a trap for him. Here the Dead would leave him to die in the darkness.
In his last despair he hammered his sword into the rocky door. His sword was notched and broken
and he knew he had failed. There was no way out. And There Baldor the Hapless fell.

Back in Edoras Brego waited for his son’s return, but he never did. And for each day that passed his
grief grew. His heart could not bear the loss of his son, and one year later Brego, king of Rohan
died. And Baldor’s younger brother Aldor became king.

More than 400 years later Aragorn and the Grey Company would dare to tread the Paths of the Dead
and here they would find the corpse of Baldor, exactly were he fell.

Aragorn did not touch him, but after gazing silently for a while he rose and sighed. 'Hither shall the
flowers of simbelmynë come never unto world's end,' he murmured. 'Nine mounds and seven there
are now green with grass, and through all the long years he has lain at the door that he could not
unlock. Whither does it lead? Why would he pass? None shall ever know!'

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I hope you enjoyed the video! I took some liberties in creating the script for this video, to make it
more engaging. I’ve always found the tale rather interesting and wanted to create a short story that
seemed more coherent and interesting.

If you liked it don’t forget to leave a like. Some of the arts used in this video was made specifically
for this, so a huge thank you to Mithril from the Kingdoms of Arda team. Check out his instagram
account, link is in the description

Thank you and farewell.