"In the year that Túrin was seventeen years old, his grief was renewed; for all tidings from his home Dor-lómin ceased at that time. The power of Morgoth had grown yearly, and all Hithlum was now under his shadow. Túrin grew heavy-hearted, and for many days he sat silent, brooding on the downfall of the House of Hador. Then he rose up and went to seek Thingol; and he found him sitting with Melian under Hirilorn, the great beech of Menegroth.
Thingol looked on Túrin in wonder, seeing suddenly before him in the place of his fosterling a Man and a stranger, tall, dark-haired, looking at him with deep eyes in a white face, stern and proud; but he did not speak.
"What do you desire, foster-son?" said Thingol, and guessed that he would ask for nothing small.
"Mail, sword and shield of my stature, lord" answered Túrin. "Also by your leave I will now reclaim the Dragon-helm of my sires." The helm of Hador was given to Thingol's hands, that helm made of grey steel adorned with gold; on it were graven runes of victory. It was forged by Telchar, the smith of Nogrod, whose works were renowed. It had a visor and the face of one that wore it struck fear into the hearts of all beholders. Upon its crest was set in defiance a gilded image of Glaurung the dragon; for it had been made soon after he first issued from the gates of Morgoth.
"These you shall have," said Thingol. "But what need have you yet of such arms?"
"The need of a man," said Túrin; "and of a son who has kin to remember. And I need also companions valiant in arms."
"I will appoint you a place among my knights of the sword, for the sword will ever be your weapon," said Thingol. "With them you may make trial of war upon the marches, if that is your desire."
"Beyond the marches of Doriath my heart urges me,"said Túrin. "For onset against our foe I long, rather than defence."
"Then you must go alone," said Thingol. "The part of my people in the war with Angband I rule according to my wisdom, Túrin son of Húrin. No force of the arms of Doriath will I send out at this time; nor at any time that I can yet foresee."
Then Túrin bowed before them, and took his leave. And soon after he put on the Dragon-helm, and took arms, and went away to the north-marches, and was joined to the elven-warriors who there waged unceasing war upon the Orcs and all servants and creatures of Morgoth. Thus while yet scarcely out of his boyhood his strenght and courage were proved; and remembering the wrongs of his kin he was ever forward in deeds of daring, and he received many wounds by a spear or arrow or the crooked blades of the Orcs.
But his doom delivered him death; and word ran through the woods, and was heard far beyond Doriath, that the Dragon-helm was seen again. Three years Túrin walked far and wide in the wild woods with Beleg Strongbow, marchwarden of Thingol and Túrins companion in every peril."
- shortened version from Children of Húrin, J.R.R.Tolkien
Watch also my earlier drawing of Men of Dor-lómin in Nirnaeth Arnoediad: [link]
Drawing ink, pencil and graphite pencil work. Using some old sketches that had piled up.
Here's some photos (crappy quality) of the drawing process if someone's interested: