The Outer District

On both sides of the river, Tharbad is fenced by a first curtain wall, still referred to as the ram by the inhabitants of the city, today no more than a ring of piled earth and broken stone, especially along its northern perimeter. Despite its dilapidated conditions, a new gatehouse opens in the ram to the north, ensuring that tolls are collected from anyone coming to sell their goods in town — here, copies of Gurnow’s Rules are nailed up on posts for all to see.
A second wall once rose at a distance within the first one, its length now marked only by an encircling road. Between the two boundaries lie the town’s outer districts, now mostly deserted. Here are many once-great houses and halls, all now overgrown and falling into ruin, or half-buried in mud. Sheep crop the grass contentedly in what were once wide plazas, and apple-trees sprout in the courtyards of long-abandoned inns. If a traveller is a Dwarf or a scholar of stonework, they will note with dis- may that these buildings are of lesser quality compared to the towers glimpsed in the distance (and if our traveller’s heart falls at this sight, they should steel themselves for a shock when they reach the centre of the city).
Off the Road to the east and west are some small farms and vineyards, shielded by the outer walls. The land outside the ram is a wetland, especially to the south, but old drain- age tunnels under the city leech away the worst of the water, leaving a rich dark soil that’s good for growing vegetables. These tunnels must be cleared of weeds and debris regularly, or the town will revert to marshland. The most prominent landmark of the outer district to the south is certainly the old Library of Tharbad. Built on two levels and still standing, the library is an architectural marvel, with high vaulted ceilings allowing for the light of the sun to enter its many niches, where innumerable rare books and scrolls were stored for protection in times of war. Long since despoiled of its main riches in gold and lore, the library is guarded by an old woman, Agna the Librarian, who cares for the library as best she can, copying the surviving scrolls by candlelight onto fresh parchment.
In the northern district opens the Ghost Pit, a spot near the walls where no living thing seems to be able to grow and no building stands. Even the sheep avoid it. Sometimes, the earth convulses, and the pit spits up strange tokens — old and rusted swords, pieces of armour, leathery strips of preserved flesh, and other disturbing portents. Long ago, a host of Elves and Númenóreans defeated one of Sauron’s armies on the northern banks of the Greyflood. Many Orcs and other fell beasts were slain in the fray. Afterwards, the victors hurled the remains of Sauron’s forces into a sucking pit of mud.
Near the Ghost Pit is the abandoned House Without Win- dows; this was the home of a strange woman named Theoris, who was reputed to be a sorceress. She bricked up all the windows of her home, and lived only by candle-light; it’s said that she dug secret passages down into the soft ground, and that she found treasures in the mud and foul water that flows from the Ghost Pit. It was water that doomed Theoris, too — she was among those washed away in the floods of 2912, and her house has remained sealed since.