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A hero's tale - RageBow Elvenwyn Dy'nesh
When Amdír, Malagad, was King and his son Amroth was young, in the Second Age of the World, a young Sindarin, Elvenwyn Dy'nesh, was sent from Lothlórien to learn about the world and was taken under the care of Thranduil, son of Oropher, the fair lord of the Silvan in Greenwood the Great, a mighty forest later known as Mirkwood of the woodland elves, and there he developed a deep respect and love for all growing things, and for all elements of nature, as could be seen in those days throughout Middle Earth.
Elvenwyn was oftenly in the company of Thranduil's son, Legolas, and time built a great friendship between them. Older than the grandson of King Oropher, Elvenwyn was always ready to answer to the inquisitive nature of the young prince of the Silvan. They grew up together and learned many things together and from each other.
When he came to age, Elvenwyn departed to the West Lands of Middle Earth and resided at Lindon, home of the High King Gil-Galad, where he advanced in his learning about the tales of the first age of the world and further developed his skills with a bow. At Lindon took place his first meeting with Elrond, the half-elven son of Eärendil and a great friendship and profound respect grew between these two.
Still eager to see the world, after some time he departed to Eregion, the elven kingdom founded by Celeborn and Galadriel, and served its lord, Celebrimbor. This is when he started visiting the kingdom of Kazhad-Dûm and enjoyed the hospitality of King Durin III at Phurunargian, the common speech name that some know as Dwarrowdelf. He became very fond of the Dwarves and very sad when the friendship came to end suddenly. Up to this date, Elvenwyn is bound to reestablish the once greatest friendship seen in Middle Earth.
When Sauron started his war against the elves, Elvenwyn ran back to Eriador with the warning and worked at the service of Lord Elrond when this founded the refuge of Imladris. After the fall of Celebrimbor, he had fought in all the fronts that he could but the Dark Lord had gained the upper hand. Until the army of Númenor drove Sauron back into the East and that was the first battle of the elven archer at the side of Men.
For a while, the elf now named Ragebow of the Elves by Lord Elrond of Imladris, dwelled at the House of Elrond but also constantly travelled around the Elven Kingdoms of Greenwood and Lothlórien, until the battle of Dagorlad, when a Last Alliance between Men, Elves and Dwarves of Durin's folk defeated Sauron's forces and started the Siege of Barad-dûr. After the defeat of Sauron and the destruction of the Dark Tower, sad with the loss of Gil-Galad, Ragebow Elvenwyn sailed into the West.
He was invited back to Middle Earth, in the early days of the Third Age of the World, by his Lord and friend Elrond of Rivendell, as they call the Ravine Valley refuge in the common speech, to be present at the wedding of this Elf Lord and Celebrían, the daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel.
For years, Elvenwyn travelled again through the free lands of Middle Earth, never missing a chance to visit his beloved Lords and friends in Mirkwood and Lothlórien. He also visited the Dwarves of Erebor and of Kazhad-Dûm, with hope that truth could be seen and the evil brought upon the friendship of Elves and Dwarves by Sauron could be undone. During this period, he travelled with Legolas Greenleaf and shared with him the knowledge and the songs of many journeys and helped him perfecting his techniques in archery.
Ragebow met battle again, serving Lord Glorfindel, Elf Lord of Rivendell, at Lake Evendim, helping Men at the Battle of Fornost, "when the armies of the Dúnedain and Elves had utter victory, and Angmar's armies were swept away. After a long chase, the Witch-King of Angmar, a guise of the Lord of the Nazgûl himself, fled into the dark of the falling night".
After Durin VI was slained by both Shadow and Flame in Moria and with the loss of the now King Amroth and Lady Nimrodel of Lothlórien, 1882 years after his return to Middle Earth, the new Lord and Lady of the GoldenWood, Celeborn and Galadriel, ordered him to rest his heart, even if only for a while, in the lands of the Valar. The Elven Archer has sailed once again to the Undying Lands. For nearly 480 years Dy'nesh of Lórien, Ragebow of the Elves, stayed at Valinor but could not rest. His eyes were constantly watching the East, across the sea, peering into the night to his beloved Middle Earth.
When the Council of the Wise was formed, the White Council summoned Elvenwyn back to Middle Earth once more. His part in the story had not finished yet. He felt it in his heart too. The Watchful Peace had ended. The legend of the White Archer was again to walk the world and at the side of new and old companions, to stay true to an oath he had sworn to his Elf Lords when he first left Lothlórien: While there is some good in the world, worth to fight for, Ragebow will be seen at the side of the Heroes of Middle Earth, protecting them, the free peoples, and all that grows and lives in the free lands.
Even a Nazgul will flee when this elf cries:
"A Elbereth Gilthoniel o menel palan-diriel, le nallon sí di-nguruthos! A tiro nin, Fanuilos!"
("Oh Elbereth Star-kindler, from heaven gazing afar, to thee I cry now beneath the shadow of death. Oh look towards me, Everwhite!")
"Lacho calad! Drego morn!" ("Flame Light! Flee Night!")
*** All Tolkien's names, facts, chronology and even controversial statements, researched at The Encyclopedia of Arda. http://www.glyphweb.com/arda/
Since the young Darruin was born, he was constantly moving around, his mother an outcast amongst her own people, for she had been with a married man, it was lucky for the young Darruin that his mother had left with him in time, for but a few months later, the terrible demonic presence inside the village was released, and all were slain, included the childs father. But his mother was not so lucky, for she contracted a fever just a few weeks from that incident. Rather than harm or leave the baby in the open to day, she sought out someone, anyone to raise her child, for she did not believe she could live. And so it was that she found a small temple, dedicated to the service of the Valar, and she entered its halls. The priest there, a kindly old man, saw the woman, and had instantly rushed to her side, commanding the priests nearby to assist him. For weeks the priests took care of mother and son. But the mother was fading, and there was nothing that could be done to aid her.
The child was unaware of all that was going on, too young to know anything. On the day of his mothers death, the elderly priest had gone to her, speaking of her child before she went, desperate to see him safe and know the truth of his bloodline, thinking only of her child until the mid afternoon in which she died. The mother was buried in a small plot near the temple.
As Darruin grew, he was schooled in both history of the world and the arts of healing. Darruin had an excellant mind for this, and soon surpassed his peers. At the age of 14, a teen of 19 had entered the temple, asking to be healed, for he was a man haunted by some unknown presence. This was the first time Darruin met Salesh. Darruin did not believe what he saw, as well as the haunted feeling he had received from Salesh, he also noticed his looks, he was an almost identical copy of himself. Darruin went to the elder priest to share his thoughts.
It was then that Darruins bloodline was shared with him, his father had been Avalyn Silversword, head of an ancient family that spanned through generations of middle earths history. And the haunted teen was none other than his son, and Darruins half brother. Darruin was stunned, and other the next few months, spent more and more time with his half brother, speaking of their pasts, and the Silversword Family. When Salesh had reached 20, he assumed the heriditary name of Avalyn, and became the 34th, Darruin bid farewell to his brother and continued his studies, but kept an ear and eye out for news of his brother, what he head was all good, until Darruin reached 18, then it was that Darruin had heard it, tainted by the demonic presence inside him that the temple priests were unable to banish, he had commited attrocities Darruin could scarcely believe his brother was capable of. Murder, destruction and general slaughter. Darruin had wept for his brother then, and this would be the only time he did so.
With the 34ths tainting, the Silversword family needed a new leader, and a true son stepped up, only to be slain by the tainted Avalyn. Once again, a true son stepped forward, only to be killed by the demon inside Avalyn. And so it was then that Darruin made a decision, seeking vengeance for the Silversword Family and the betrayal he felt at his brothers hands, unable to fight the demon, he came forward, revealing himself as the lost son of the 33rd. He assumed the name of Avalyn Silversword the 37th, and ventured from the temple, seeking out his brother. He travelled to Esgaroth, and journeyed from here to the Silversword Castle, the one good deed his brother had done, rebuilt after many years of disrepair. Summoning what few allies he could find within the once powerful Silversword Guild, he bade them help find his brother, but many did not have the heart to fight against their old friend, and so turned their back on the Guild, and the protection of the free. Avalyn was disheartened, but nevertheless, he pushed on. Using his healing arts, he trained mercilessly, intent on building his strength up until he could face his brother. Now, so close to his goal, he seeks out the tainted, intent on ending his life and stopping the hordes of the dark one from taking over the lands of Middle Earth.
A Prodigal Knight - Lorick Fyne's Story
The first ever member of the Fyne House, Garlesh Fyne, was a mighty warrior within the nation of Harad, before Gondor took it over. He was the head of his own clan, one that was prominent within the Haradrim society.
However, when the Gondorians built their empire and conquered the dry, harsh southlands, the Fyne family was destroyed except for Lorick's great-grandparents, Hama Fyne and Kalim Fyne.
When the forces of Mordor began to attack the Free People's, they took back Harad and convinced the Haradrim to join them in the war. The family was now fighting within the army, as commanders and generals. All was fine until Garin Fyne, the grandfather of Lorick, tried to betray the warlords, and so the family was destroyed absolutely - except for Lorick and Logar Fyne, the only known living warriors.
Lorick Fyne once again came into the army under a false identity, infiltrating lands deep into Free Territory, and destroying figures within the society. He was, however, defeated many times by characters such as Azarnimir Minalzagar and Lady Dove, and so decided to stop his efforts and simply destroy dangerous beasts.
Soon, the warrior got incredibly bored of his life, and decided, at long last, to turn to the Free Peoples. They were suspicious at first, but some actions swayed their opinions of great favour of him. He now strives to find out if his sister still lives, while battling evil enemies like the Black Seal warriors and the Daemonic Spiders of Mirkwood.
Kail Cadarn
10-07-2004, 19:21
Kail Cadarn, son of Kalan of the house of Kathalen is a ranger of the North, the Dunadain, and can often be found wandering the paths and caves west of the mountains and east of the sea. Like many of his ranger friends and kin, Kail Kathalen was born in rivendell, Imladris as the High folk name it, and there spent many of his early years whilst his father wandered the lands from Fornost to Tharbad. however, unlike many of the rangers, Kail was of those rare breeds in that his mother was not of mortal kind. Like Beren and Earendil before him, Kalen had fallen for an elf maiden of the house of Elrond, Celindial. there's was a loving, if tragically short, by elven count, relationship, for only 12 years after Kail's birth, Kalen was slain by Orcs in the passes northwest of rivendell. bitter and bereft of grief, Celindial, being of the high folk, took ship west to Valinor in her son's 16th year.
Orphaned in middle earth, to Kail, it seemed only one option was open to him, and like his father before, he trained in the arts of a warrior, but growing up in the house of Elrond could not purely distill in one the arts of destructions, and from his mother's line, some power of the elves flows in his blood, and his face bears the elven trend. though skilled with the sword, Kail is also proficiant in the healing arts, having studied long with master Elrond himself, and the powers Divine granted by elven blood are his to command.
on his 18th birthday, Kail took up the sword forged for him by the elves, and ventured forth into the wilderness. though he shares the goals of his fellow rangers, a further thought spurs him on, the idea to seek out those who killed his father, and drove hs mother into grief, tempered with a desire to see such tragedy befall another young boy.
Kail was often reckless, venturing, sometimes alone, into places beyond his skill, and more than once only the ability of master Elrond has saved the young warrior from death. but still this does not deter him from his quests.
he took the title Cadarn, an old name from the tongues of men meaning great warrior, and indeed, he strives his utmost to live up to that name in his ultimate goal of ridding the world of evil, and of the race of orcs.
*OOC*
Cadarn is an old Briton/Cletic word meaning great warrior, prevalent in the 600sAD in post roman britain. i took it as my character name, as its one i normally use, and now it doesn't always fully intergrate with my character... a pity that... but ahhh well
Ulfur, his wonderful wife Fiona and their beautiful children, Beornhelm and Rosa, lead a peaceful life on their homestead in the Anduin valley.
Ulfur, a man of the woods and a devout worshipper of Orome, was out hunting one day. On his way back he saw smoke in the direction of his home. His heart racing, running the way back, he came back to carnage. :bigcry: His dear wive and children slaughtered, their maimed and burnt bodies laying amongst the burnt remains of their farm. :biggcry: Black arrows stuck in their bodies indicated foul orcs!!! :mad:
Ulfur tracked them, following the marks of their heavy boots. At the foothills of the Misty Mountains he caught up with the band, killing them to a man. Devastated by what happened, having lost all he cherished and loved in life, he put his life in the hands of Orome, to serve his god for the rest of his life. Following visions by Orome, he crossed the Misty Mountains and trecked all the way to Bree, there starting a new life, in service of his god and the Free People in their struggle against Darkness.
See ya in Middle Earth,
Ulfur
Thus begins the tale of Karleta Hallown.
I was a warm summers day and Karleta was sitting in the forest alone basking in the midday sun. She looked out to the East and saw the great tower of Orthanc through the treeline. The great White Wizard, the most powerful of all the mithrandir, inhabited that tower and Karleta couldn't help but feel slightly afraid of anyone with that much power at their fingertips. She had met him once, long ago. So long ago in fact that she didn't even remember it. Sighing she rose to her feet and looked into the sky. She could tell from the positioning of the sun that it was nearly time for her fathers ceremony. The previous leader of the Grove had passed away a fortnight past and her father had been chosen to replace him. She knew that she should have been happy but a deep sense of forboding had come across her when the appoinment had been announced. Nothing good could come of this. As Karleta was leaving the clearing she had been relaxing in, something caused her to turn back and look at the tower once more. A shiver ran down her spine but she thought nothing of it and continued down the path back to the village.
Many years passed and Karleta had grown from the small girl sitting in a clearing in the forest to a capable woman and she had begun to think that for once her sixth sense for danger had been wrong. Her fathers rule over the Grove had been fairly uneventful, well there was the time that the Grove become overrun with frogs but that had hardly been a disaster. "Enough of the past" she thought to herself for tomorrow was her eighteenth birthday and finally her druid training would commence.
"Eighteen years. It's a long time to wait" said a voice from the corner of the room and she snapped out of her trance to see that her father had entered the room. She jumped out of her chair and ran over to him to give him a hug.
"Easy there dear, you wouldn't want to crush an old man now would you."
"Of course not father, I'm just so excited that soon I can begin my training and follow in your footsteps."
"I know you are dear, but for now you must get some sleep and in the morning your lessons begin." He kissed her gently on the forehead and then left the room. Karleta undressed and climbed into bed. What a day she had to look forward to.
*Bang*
The door to the family hut slammed shut and Karleta awoke with a start. This was it, this was her chance to prove herself to everyone. But something was wrong, it was still pitch black outside of her window. Who would be calling at this time of night? A robe lay draped over her chair and she put it on before creeping over to the door of her room. She could see into the main room of the hut through a crack in the door and she could see her father talking to someone standing in the shadows. Her father looked terrified, she had never seen him so scared in all her life. Something was definitely wrong. A voice came from the figure in the corner and though she knew it was not human she could not place the speaker. The words it spoke filled her heart with dread.
"We are sent by Saruman"
"What does Saruman the white want with me?" replied her father
"Saruman the white wants nothing with you" the creature spat. "Saruman of many colours has sent us to ask for your help."
"What does he requi..." her father did not finish the sentence before the creature began to speak again. "He requires your services in conquering this Middle Earth."
Karleta's father spat at the figure in the shadows. "Saruman is a fool. He has tried to recruit me for his warmongering for some time and you shall receive the same answer. Never as long as I have breath left in my body will the people of this village join his war."
The creature stepped from the shadows and Karleta could see it clearly now. It looked like an orc, but it was no orc. It was far too big and muscly for an orc and it wore a helmet with a white hand print emblazoned on it. Never before had she seen anything like it. Then time almost seemed to slow down as the creature drew a sword and plunged it into her fathers chest. He let out a scream of pain and crumpled to the floor. Karleta could contain herself no more, she burst through the door to confront the creature. It took one look at her and laughed as it drew another sword and stabbed it into her shoulder. The pain was so intense that Karleta dropped like a stone to lie beside her father. She looked over at him and saw that he was mouthing something at her. She understood at once what she had to do. With her last remaining ounce of strength she pulled herself up and began to mouth the same words. The creature laughed again, drew a dagger from it's belt and moved in for the kill. Just before the dagger pierced Karleta's flesh lightning exploded from all around and engulfed the creature in a ball of electricity. It screamed a terrible scream as it's flesh began to burn away and the electric current arced through it's body. She did not stay to watch though and was out of the door before the creature had hit the floor. The sword was still stuck in her should and as she ran she pulled it out and tossed it aside. After what seemed like hours she turned and looked back at the Grove that she had called home. The entire forest was ablaze on the horizon. She fell to her knees and screamed into the night sky before blacking out with the pain of her wound and the effort of her escape.
When she came to she was laying in a bed in a fabulous elven hall. An elven face looked over her and began to speak.
"Ah, you're awake Miss. I knew you would be eventually it was when that I was worried about. Allow me to introduce myself, I am (will get name when server is back up) and I have a small Grove here in Rivendell."
"I am in the city of Imladris?" Karleta asked, confused by everything that had happened to this point.
"Indeed you are, and I see from your clothing that you too are a druid. Am I correct?"
"You are correct, though I am untrained. Today was the day I was supposed to begin my training."
"Then today you shall begin your training. I have not had a student for some time and I feel I am ready to pass on my skills once again. Get some rest and I shall meet you in the courtyard in a few hours."
She smiled. She would learn what it meant to be a druid and then when she was more powerful she would avenge her Grove. Saruman would pay for his treachery.
Thus continues the tale of Karleta Hallown....
Galdor_Niphredil
12-07-2004, 20:08
'The great White Wizard, the most powerful of all the mithrandir, inhabited that tower ..'
Unless you are refering to Gandalf (Mithrandir) you might want to edit it to Istari (The Wizards sent to Middle Earth from the Undying Lands).
The Elvish Translation of Saruman is Curunir.:)
Kail Cadarn
13-07-2004, 11:34
but in elvish, the vale of Isenguard was Nan Curunir, the wizards vale...
translations can be tricky...
Mithrandir means the Grey Pilgrim does it not?
and even then, wizards is a bad translation of istari... gandalf and co were Maiar (sp?)
Istar - ‘Wizard’
A Quenya word meaning approximately 'Wise One', translated as "Wizard'.
Istari - The Wizards
Dates: Came to Middle-earth c. III 1000. Saruman was slain in III 3019 and Gandalf left Middle-earth in III 3021; the fates of the other Istari are unknown
Race: Ainur
Division: Maiar
Pronunciation: ee'staree
Meaning: 'Wise Ones'
Other Names: Ithryn, Wizards
Titles: Istari is a plural term; the singular form (equivalent to 'wizard') is istar
The order of Wizards, the Maiar who came to Middle-earth after the first millennium of the Third Age. Of these, five came to the northwestern regions; Saruman, Gandalf, Radagast, Alatar and Pallando.
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Mithrandir - Gandalf, the Grey Wanderer
Dates: Immortal. In Middle-earth c. III 1000 to 29 September III 3021
Race: Ainur
Division: Maiar of Manwë and Varda
Order: Istari (Wizards)
Other Names: Gandalf, Incánus, Olórin, Tharkûn
Titles: The Grey, Grey Pilgrim, Grey Wanderer, Stormcrow, The White
Meaning: 'Grey Wanderer'
Pronunciation: meethra'ndeer
'Grey Wanderer', the name of Gandalf among the Elves.
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Nan Curunír -The valley of the Wizard Saruman
The name given in the late Third Age to the valley in the southern feet of the Misty Mountains where Isengard stood. The name is taken from Curunír, the Elvish name of the Wizard Saruman, who dwelt there.
Source: http://www.glyphweb.com/arda/
My my, cans of worms spring to mind :)
Well, I can't change it now. You can only edit messages for 45 minutes after you've posted
Galdor_Niphredil
13-07-2004, 21:00
btw, to Karleta and to any one else I didn't mean to cause any offence I just thought you'd made a typo or something and anyway your biog is a great read Karleta.
It has made me think though... wouldn't it be a good idea to have a links page on the main website to sites such as Encyclopedia of Arda etc.. I'm sure some of you guys can introduce us to other great Tolkien sites. It might help players build their backgrounds for their player characters ?...just a thought...
:)
Karleta, first of all, you know I liked it a lot! We can edit our posts whenever we want, all we need is to have logged in Wireplay forum first. A way to do it is to click on the CP button. If we have not got the cookies active, that is. Then you simply log, go back to the forum and you can edit any message of yours.
One thing we cannot do is to delete our posts. Unfortunately. This I would ask a Moderator of this forum to do it. Please delete all off-topic posts in this thread. They may have been useful, but this is thread that I really would like to see reserved for char's bio only. I am very happy to see that some people took the time and indeed posted their chars' bio. I love reading them.
As for the worms, wow, I love those details. I keep thinking every time I visit Glyphweb, "Who are these guys who made such impressive and detailed job?" It exhalates passion and it is very contagious to me :)
Kail Cadarn
13-07-2004, 22:12
yeah, err sorry Karletta, didn't mean to throw dirt on your history...
as an extra note to mine...
Kail also had an older sister, who sailed to Valinor with her mother Celindial, she made the choice of the Halfelven, and chose the elven side of her heritage. before she left, she gave birth to Kail's young but courageous (and mischievous) nephew, Rorry Yeager. through the loss of sister and mother, these two grew up very close, and Rorry can often be seen with Kail, to the extent that at the age of 11, he joined the Silversword's with his uncle!
Thus begins the tale of Keira Hallown...
Keira sat and sipped at her brandy. Her husband had told her that he needed some privacy tonight as he had an important guest coming round. As always she had accepted without question and had travelled to her friends house for a quiet drink in front of the fire and some good conversation. Her and Rachel, her best friend, were discussing Karleta's coming of age ceremony the following day. Keira was so pround of her daughter. She had never been blessed with the powers of nature herself and she always hoped that Karleta would not have inherited her ineptitude for magic. Chuckling to herself, she remembered the day that her fears had been allayed. Karleta had been just a young girl when it had happened.
It was the day of her husbands coronation as leader of the Grove and Keira had just finished preparing the feast when Karleta burst through the door with a look of fear in her eyes.
"Mum, mum come quick." she squealed and then bolted back out of the door. Keira sighed and followed after her. Her daughter was always in trouble and she wondered what she had been up to this time. It turned out that on the way back from where she had been relaxing in the forest, one of the other children had decided to sneak up on her and try to scare her. Karleta had panicked and without even realising it had released a small bolt of magic which paralyzed the other child. In the end the spell wore off and no harm was done but Keira was secretly pleased that Karleta had the skills required to become a druid.
She chuckled to herself again. It was funny now to remember the things that girl had gotten up to in her youth but at the time thay had been worrying. She looked up and saw Rachel walking over to the door.
"What's wrong friend" she enquired softly.
"I'm not sure Keira, I think I heard some sort of commotion outside."
Keira laid her glass down on the table and made her way over to the window to take a look for herself. Just then Karleta dashed past the window.
"My goodness" she thought to herself "what is that girl doing at this time of night"
Her question was answered sooner than she would have liked as the door was knocked off it's hinges by a creature that looked somewhat like an orc but also looked much stronger. It ran in, and punched her square on the chin. Everything went black for Keira Hallown.
When she awoke she looked around her. She appeared to be in some kind of prison with the other villagers. An uruk-hai was standing over her.
"The boss wants her next." said a voice from over by the door of the cell. The uruk nodded and dragged Keira to her feet before marching her into a truly elaborate chamber. Seated before her was Saruman.
"Saruman, what are you doing. It is not your place to..."
He rose from his chair and spoke in a deep booming voice. "Silence wench. It is my place to rule this world and I'm afraid your people did not share that vision with me. I do however need one of you to join my army for purposes which will become clear."
Keira rolled a globule of spit in her mouth for a second before spitting it at the wizard standing before her. It hit him in the eye. Saruman chuckled and wiped the spit away.
"I have seen enough, she is the one I need. Kill the others."
The uruk smiled a hideous smile, it's thirst for blood about to be fulfilled, and marched out of the room back towards the cells. Saruman waited until he was out of earshot and then began to speak again.
"Now is your time. You are to join my army. Whether you are willing or not it shall be so."
A shimmery cloud materialised in the corner of the room.
"You called Lord Saruman?"
"Indeed. I have found you a body to inhabit, Spirit. If you complete the tasks I set for you, I may even let you keep it once this war is over and I rule this Middle Earth."
The cloud shimmered for a second and then shot across the room before disappearing into Keira's chest knocking her off her feet. When she stood again she spoke but something about her voice was strangely different.
"What do you wish of me master..."
Thus continues the tale of Keira Hallown
Galdor_Niphredil
18-07-2004, 11:43
Many, many, years had passed since the sack of the hidden city of Gar Thurion – the secret place, or Gondolin as it was more commonly known. The elf maiden had shed unnumbered tears remembering those fateful days which cast the doom of the many who had lived there – the maidens , the wives and the proud elf lords who had defended that place . She remembered the panic when that city was found by the Captains of Morgoth and the blood that was spilt on it’s streets.
The final defence of Gondolin had indeed proved hopeless but she remembered the heroic deeds of her kinsman –; Her beloved King Turgon ,Glorfindel of the Golden Flower, Ecthelion with the people of the Fountain; and of other Elven lords there was also Galdor ‘The Tall’ at whose name brought a smile, for it was at Galdor’s side that her husband had fought against the evil that had poured out of Angband.
As she looked down at her child she could see great resemblance of her husband and his golden haired captain now, and she knew how it would soon come the time when she would take that last road to the home of Cirdan and take a ship to the west. For her husband’s untimely death had brought great sorrow and the cares of the mortal lands now weighed too heavily upon her shoulders. Even the Golden Wood where they had lived for many years did not comfort her as it once did.
‘May I hope your deeds echo those of who your name pays tribute to Galdor.’ she whispered to him. She thought then of the battle in the square of Gondolin; of Ecthelion mortally wounded and the slaying of Gothmog , lord of the Balrogs who had hewn him. She remembered how her son’s namesake Galdor and his own father had fought bravely to secure an escape route out of the city..
‘I must leave soon fair Galdor , and I am to entrust you to the great care of the people of Imladris. Do not weep for me as there will come a day when you too will travel to Valinor and we shall look upon one another again sweet niphredil’.
Some great stuff here guys. If you want, i'd be happy to place some of this work in the community created content on the website.
Just send me a mail and i'll get to work.
Burz born in dark place... Old boss place... bad place...
Make Burz dig in pit, break rocks, many die, many beatings... Then one day Old Man say to workboss - "Take slaves, cut down trees for great furnaces". Burz go with workboss out from dark place. Workboss say - "Hey you, dung-hill rats, cut dem trees!" and we do, but Burz not listening. Burz looking up at stars, and moon, and sky. Burz smell sweet air, and moss, and feel soft earth... Workboss curse and hit, make Burz bleed bad... Burz get angry, break chain, break workboss bones with hands...
Not know what happen to other slaves but Burz run away, know Old Man kill him if stay... Burz run west... look for people Old Man spy on... See faces in bright stone... hear names that Old Man write on list... watch Old Man watch them, as little spy follow them in bandit country...
Burz not slave now, go many places with no chains and no Old boss... Burz see trees and birds and sun... Sun bright but it not hurt like Old Man say it do. It make Burz anger go away, to deep inside where it there when Burz need...
Burz see what Old Man do... Hear what he say to Red Eye in bright stone... Burz go to find Druid-lady who raise dead Elf, find Elf Cuferedir, and little Dwarf Thorin, and the fat one, Veld...
World forgive Burz for being born in dark place... if Burz help...
Genesis of the Balac group of dwarves (Maternal Clan)
From the Far norland in a mine called Langer comes the Dwarves known as by the Balac prefix. Real dwarven names be given only after proving ones worth to the elders so all characters are really in fact nameless.
Balac; the eldest son took the family name to use as his in the world of the long legged. His rightfull place was at the forge next to his male-kin but the forges have disappeared and so has the historical dwarven way of life. Balac left the mines to help others in the long legged land as had his uncle before him. He be a trustworthy; fair; valiant Cleric of high honor if you meet him; and willing to help all comers, even evil though he be good by nature.
Balacem is the eldest daughter of the clan and a good singer of songs. She is a little flighty and troublesome but on the whole a good lass. Em be the general name for daughters in the dwarven community and one which she answers to yet.
Balacum is a younger daughter that had a few rivets loose early on in life. She liked going out of the mine and playing on trees and doing other such unbecoming activities. As a result she was called Um instead of Em. There be word that she has gone wholly beneath the boards and truned into some kind of shape changer---Uck.
Ugh---Balac's Boy be a youngling Half-Orc that was saved from butchery by Balac during one of his adventures. It is a little fuzzy exactly how Ug came to be orphaned; but now he pulls the plow and does other odd chores for Balac. He is rather dull and slow, but likes to get away and “Bash some Heads” once in a while.
A man from the far north of the world, Forochel, where the Lossoth scratch a living from the ice and hunt the great bears...
He was unwelcome in his tribe, for a child with skin and hair as white as the killing storms than roar down from the glacier could only be an ill-omen. A suspicion compounded by the passing of his mother as she brought him into the world...
His father named him Barahur...
Were it not for the love of his father - the only soul to call him by his true given name - he would have been alone, for now their own people shunned them...
They lived alone on the ice in the shelter of a remote cave...
When his father perished last winter, Snow placed him under the ice... and wandered away...
Lolinus Balix – A Dwarf with a List.
A dwarf from the Iron Mountains, to understand the driving passions behind this dwarf you have to look back to his early days. The Balix clan was a small clan in the Iron Hills, known more for their craftsmen than anything else. A peaceful existence they had always lived, and would have gone on to live if it wasn’t for one small quirk of fate.
Their homeland was directly along the route Smaug took on his way to Erebor. And on his way to that same place he devastated the Balix village. The whole clan died except for Lolinus – who was saved only through the sacrifice of his own parents.
A young Dwarf at the time he started wandering the lands of men, and drinking, very heavily. He had no idea how to cope with the trauma of his early life so lost himself in an alcoholic stupor. At this time he also became known as something of a barefist barfighter. Mainly because he didn’t have enough sense to know when he was beaten, and so never was beaten.
However one day all this was to change. Lolinus had heard that Erebor had been freed from Smaug and he decided to head that way to see if any of his clan still lived. As he travelled he drank more and more ale, until he barley knew which way he was headed. Then in the depths of Mirkwood he was attacked by orcs.
Although he had no formal training with weapons he carried a Battle Axe, the last thing his father had made at the smithy in which he worked. Without a pause for thought Lolinus pulled out the axe and started to swing it wildly. Although he got lucky at first he eventually tripped on a nearby root and fell to the ground. In his blurry vision he could a number of laughing orcs approaching him.
Suddenly they started sprouting feathered shafts and falling to the ground. As he regathered his wits he looked around to find his saviour – only to see to his amazement it was an Elf. The Elf helped him to his feet and escorted hi, to the woodland realm of Thrandruil.
There Lolinus was given time to recover, and he was not allowed to drink. As he recovered he realised that he had been putting his parents memory to shame by trying to forget them with drink. He would be better honouring by fighting the growing evil in the world, an evil they would have despised.
To this end once recovered he headed to Erebor and started earning weapons at the hands of the Dwarven masters there. Soon he had learnt enough that it was safe once more for him to travel the world. And so he set out, with no other aim than to find the Elf who had rescued him. All he had to go on was a shortened name – Rage.
It didn’t take him long to find this elven archer, who seemed to be something of a legend amongst his own people. Odd as it seemed a friendship grew between the two, and they travelled oft times together. However fate was to part for them for a while, Rage was called away to do the bidding of the Elven lords, so Lolinus once more started to travel the world. As he did he learnt about the various ills done to his people, amd as he met more of his kin he started to plot revenge.
Nowadays a mighty warrior in his own right, he once more partakes of the drink, but only when with friends and fellow dwarves. He also now carries ‘The List’. This is something he started himself, but that has been added to in drunken sessions at The Cracked Anvil, his favourite drinking establishment.
The actual contents of the list aren’t known to many but are believed to be something like this:-
1- Smaug, and sieze his hoard for our own use
2- Anyone who won’t sell us drink
3- Durin’s Bane
4- Saruman – we hate him
5- Anyone who won’t sell us drink
6- Sauron – for that bloody business with the rings
7- Anyone who spills our drink.
Although this is all conjecture there are those who feel that this list means something more than the drunken drivel it often appears to be.
Calia Hendel
Calia Hendel, one of the dearest clerics of Manwe, was sent during the second age to the new lands of the Firstborn to help in the new construction of their society - in particular, Imladris. For many years she toiled, healing those hurt in their endeavours, and using a little of her powers to help in the manual tasks of the elves.
When the work was done, and they were told to be left to their own devices, Calia was taken back to Aman by Manwe, where she resided their for an age, unaware of all else, simply living in the bliss of her homeland.
One day, in the Third Age, Calia was told by her deity that war had broken out in Middle-Earth between the Numenoreans and Newborn against Aule's forsaken Maiar Spirit, Sauron. She went and lent her aid at once to those in Rivendell, blessing soldiers before they stormed off to battle, and overseeing the training of battle clerics there. For three years she taught and oversaw the preperations for the final battle there, before finally the day had come. She mounted on a pure white horse with a silver mane, and took five of her closest trainees on horses similar to defend her, should the need arise.
When they reached the Black Gate, and the fighting started, she took to the front regiments, and kept the troopers healed. She weeped in this process, as she looked on in horror at the destruction around her - men and elves dying everywhere, orcs biting and slashing into her allies. Even her handmaidens were felled around her, their faces trodden into the dirt.
Around the middle of the long battle, an arrow flew through the air and hit her neck. She fell to the ground, like a wilting flower, and was near to death - when Manwe, who had not forgotten her in all this time, carried her to Rivendell, where they restored her lifeforce.
When she arose, several weeks later, she realised her fate. It was at that point she finally decided to bring her powers past healing, and into offensive war skills. She raised money, and equipped herself with a plate of armour with the white robes of Rivendell draped over them. She forged a longsword, and marched into the rest of the world, seeking to destroy evil where she found it, and heal Middle-Earth from it's deep wounds.
At only eleven years of age, neither Tom nor Rorry (who happen to be non-identicle twins) have much history to their name yet. They lived in the outskirts of Tharbad with his their father and mother (who happened to be an elf) living a normal life involving games, pranks and the other usual antics of children. Rorry developed a keen interest for the sword, spending half of his time practising with an old sword of his father's and the other half practising singing in the hope of one day becoming a famous board. Tom however, developed a thirst for knowledge, spending much of his time locked in the study of their house simply reading. However, at the age of seven their childhood was changed forever when, for reasons unknown to either of them, their mother departed to sail West into the Undying Lands leaving them with just their father, a soldier of Rohan. However, only a few years later he fell in battle leaving Rorry and Tom alone. Or so they assumed. Perhaps by a chance of fate, their uncle Kail Cadern appeared and became their guardian and took them to Rivendell to live, where they both were taught a great deal by both the elves and Kail. Under his guidance, despite their troubled past, the two children flourished in their new home.
However, the two grew restless and soon they decided to leave their home in Rivendell, filled with a longing for adventure. Initially they travelled together to Bree, where they had journeyed to many times with their father and mother, from there they split up to travel their seperate ways. Rorry dreams of one day becoming a famous bard while Tom dreams of becoming a great wizard.
Waagh the Goblin
15-08-2004, 19:28
It starts 5 years before Waaagh first appeared in bree...
"Waaagh! Get down here!" screams the dark cloaked man.
Waaagh stumbles down the stairs of the abandoned building.
His body covered in bruises, and bleeding. A tear in his eye, he answers the man. "Whatz Waaagh do for youz?"
"Clean the pens! Before I get mad!" Waaagh walks outside, to the animal pens, where the boss keeps his cows and food. He picks up the the shovel, and starts shoveling large lumbs of animal "Stuffz" into a pile.
As he finishes the rest of the work that day his "Bosz" gives him his daily beating, and peice of bread for dinner. He stumbles into his room (outside) to sleep. You've probably figure out by now Waaagh is a slave.
He was taken from his home in the mountains from a raiding party. He watched his kin become slaughtered like animals. He was only 2 years old at the time, and has been a slave for 15 years.
He had to devise a plan of escape...
As his "Bosz" was sleeping he climbed inside the house to grab supplies. He took what he needed for food and packaged it in Magic Scrools. He didnt know they were magic at the time, he just thought they were paper.
As he climbed outside the window, he tripped over a banana peel that came out of nowhere. He slammed into the support for the canvas over the porch. The support beam shook and fell over, causing the whole porch to be destroyed. "****" said Waaagh, he could hear his owner yelling from inside the house.
Quickly he sprinted across the fields away from the house. A peice of wood landed on a magic rune on a fireball scroll inside the house, causing the whole thing to erupt in a massive explosion.
As Waaagh ran across the fields he saw a nice spot to make a camp. He ended up living in that camp for five years. Until... he became hunted from his original owner.
He cant remember the name, all he can remember is "Bosz Sharkeyz." But he did remember the voice... He quickly packed up his bellongings, but while doing that one of the scrolls he had fell into the fire and began exploding in magical energy.
Waaagh thought that was a good distraction so he began running. He began to read the magic scrolls because he thought they were very powerful items. He soon mastered the art of magic. And wanted revenge on his owner. The sinister Waaagh traveled to the town of bree... where his adventures began.
Waagh the Goblin
15-08-2004, 19:32
A few corrections.
Lumps, not Lumbs.
and he kept the food in the house, not the pens O.o.
oh and my username is Waagh the Goblin because Waaagh the goblin wouldnt fit *cries*
Waagh the Goblin
16-08-2004, 00:03
I was walking through bree, then I heard the voices again. I went to the temple in tharbad... The voices were getting so bad I became a danger to man. I asked them, if they would kill me. With the voices in my head I could go off at any moment in a killing spree, somebody had to stop me. I explained why I would ask them such a harsh question, they came up with a cure. It wouldnt be easy, I had to kill a demon of great power.
It just so happens that as I was walking towards bree, I heard a man scream "Fell beast in Bree!" I rushed to the center of town to see a huge pillar of flame erupting near the smithy. Krasny, the man who had seen the monster, ran over to me. In a slighty frightened voice he said "A fell demon plagues bree what shall we do?!"
I told him to calm down, but he ran out of town out of my sight.
A few of the local fighters had come to bree to see who had shouted about this "Fell Beast." I didnt know what to tell, exept that I saw a "Pillar of Flame." They went into a huddle to talk about the event. I went out of town to hunt the beast.
As I returned I heard several more reports of the monster. I phased out of thinking as the strange voices attacked me again.
I ran out of bree again to search. Just as I was in the Barrow Downs I saw a strange figure. A man, I did not know, it was dressed in black and red armor, it had a tail that he "Flickered." occasionally. His feet were as horse hooves, and where he stood the grass was dead. I approched the man , with my longsword drawn, and as I was near him it was like I was thrusted into a shockwave of evil. He spoke to me in a harsh voice "I have been waiting for you."
"What do you mean?" I said.
"I am the cause of your insanity, dont you know what im talking about, fool."
"You mean, you know about my voices?" I was then stricken with a sudden burst of the voices. All telling me something to do, all telling me something... evil.
The figure spoke again"Yes, I do... you have been sent to kill me, am I correct?"
"Yes, I mean... I dont know. I was sent to kill a demon." I stuttered.
He laughed, a horrible laugh. Like a thousand needles in my heart.
"You quest ends here, fool!"He drew his scimitar, a sinister weapon of evil. He lunged at me, I quickly parried. Moving my body weight I was able to push him off.
"Do you beleive you can defeat me?" he said.
"I dont know..." I felt a surge of heat through my body, like I was stricken by disease.
He used this to his advantage, he held up his sword. I fell to the ground as the voices were pounding on my head. The man muttered a spell, and thrust his scimitar through my body.
The pain was unimaginable, tho I didnt die. He said in his harsh voice "The spell I cast has strengthened your insanity, soon it will take over your body and mind. A curse worse than death, is to be constantly plagued, by your insanity."
I blacked out as the sudden rush of pain struck my body. I awoke in my church. The nurses were bandaging my body.
"What am I doing here?" I asked.
"We found you at the brink of death, near the Barrows."
I remembered what had happened, the nurse left the room, after she tied the last bandage. My equipment was to the side of the bed I lay upon. "A longsword?" I said. I picked up the sword and tried to break it. A part of the shaft broke off, the shape of the sword was more like a scimitar.
I hid the scimitar under the covers, as the nurse walked in the door. "We still haven..." she didnt finish the sentence, I had thrusted the sword through her stomach, and held up my hands and broke her neck.
She lay dead on the floor, I had no remorse for this being. I didnt feel anything after killing her. I put my armor on. The doctor came in the door, he rushed to the corpse of the nurse. "What happened here?!"
I flung up my scimitar, dripping with blood, and thrust it into the neck of the doctor. Watching the corpses bleed out their fluids I began to thirst for the blood. I picked up the doctors corpse, and looked at it. I could feel the warm blood on my fingers, trickleing on the floor. I began to feast on the blood, it surged through my body as if giving me... power.
Two people dead, without a thought. I dropped the doctor, and picked up the nurse. Her blood was cold, it must of cooled as I drained the doctor. A "Coppery Mess." I said, "Thats all blood is when its cold."
I picked up the rest of my bellongings and stepping into the main hall of the church. I slew the worshipers before they had a chance to speak. All that was left was the Healer, and the Shopkeeper. I slayed the healer, at the neck, and began feasting on the blood.
The Shopkeeper let out a scream of terror. I paralysed him with my sword, and carried him off to the woods. There I hung him ,from his hands, on a tree. I cut a hole in his stomach, and let him bleed to death.
I have done all this, without remorse. There is nothing else for me, nobody can accept a villain. The blood I drank, has tainted my soul, and the voices were still there. But I felt no pain when I heard them. I listened to them, I commited cruel deeds. I have become a fallen paladin, and forsaken my life.
I run to the village of bree, a different man. A murderer, but I try to keep my identity as a murderer a secret. My tainted soul has no remorse, and I like it that way.
Waagh the Goblin
16-08-2004, 00:04
// OOC sorry if it sucks, I aint that good of an RPer. Bear with me please.
Calia Hendel, now a seasoned spellcaster and warrior, has (through the pains of war) grown from a calm, down-to-earth and forgiving cleric of Manwe into a passionate, fierce warrior, fighting hard in vain to make the wars stop, and for her to return to Valinor. But despite this rather chaotic sounding cause, she stays lawful to the free peoples, as she does not want to cause them any extra trouble.
However, the more battles she fights, and the more enemies she slays, her want for peace grows bigger. It seems now that she would do anything to put the world back together, even if it would mean drastic tactics...
...could this mean that Calia Hendel, Champion of Manwe, could soon resort to other sides in the war, in hope they will finish it quicker?
Note that resorting to evil will not get you back to Valinor!
Just a little hint :P
Kail Cadarn
17-08-2004, 22:55
evil deeds for goods sake is a contradiction in terms friend calia. 2 wrongs do not make a right. to evil's whatever their cause will not be seen by our gods as the right action. only good will prevail. not evil whereing a white cloak.
to study the arts of the enemy is to become like them. the alure is too great, the power is too strong. even Saruman could not resist. if you want to return to Valinor my friend, i would recommend not practising Melkor's talents.
- Kail Cadarn, Silversword Champion of Orome
btw, i serve Orome, and Calia serves Manwe, are there any other clerics out there serving the valar? we could form a brotherhood! the Brotherhood of the Valar, adding religious ferver and power to the White Council! hehehe just a thought.
I remember the black stone of Erech and the noble Isuldur who hailed us and asked our allegiance against the Dark Lord... I remember that my soul was in exalt for the honour we were bestowed... and torment, for I knew my King of the Mountains was already sworn to another master, his great fear of one who would have us betray the King of Gondor...
When the day finally came I desired greatly to ride forth to war. But bound by my code and my blood, to obey my King and my kin, I stayed at their side, and did not answer Gondor's summons. I watched in horror as my own brother slew Isildur's herald and damned us forever... We did not return to the stone...
We did not fulfill our Oath...
We did not dare to go forth to war for him, yet nor did we make war on him for his Enemy's sake... We fled before the wrath of Isildur... hid ourselves in secret places in the mountains... had no dealings with other men... and slowly dwindled... into the barren hills...
Three thousand years and my memory is a shadow... and I am dust... Yet I cannot rest... I look for the Halls of Awaiting... for the Gift of Death, granted to all men by Illuvatar... I grieve...
In the silent darkness... a voice, sweet and sad... And She strode forth in light... "I am Nienna, sister to Mandos and Irmo... Come to me Shade... you have wept too long... You shall come unto Mandos... We give you back, oath-breaker, oath-keeper, that which you have never truly lost... Your honour...
"Arise Dimholt, Shade of Dunharrow, and seek for the one true King... The world has need of him and I bid you, aid his coming unto his rightful kingship... Soon is the time when He will come unto this place and call to your kinsmen to fullfil their oathes... But you must go aforetime and make safe his road..."
"How shall I know the one true King..."
"Signs... portents... omens... the sendings of Irmo... and a broken sword... Do my bidding, come before my brothers, be our herald, and you shall have what you desire... What say you..?"
"...... Aye......."
We are now properly starting the production of our first version of the online manual.
This will be set out in an article based style to allow for easy additions and updates as the gameworld changes. Also because many people are having a hand in its production.
Part of the manual is called 'Legends' - the background of player characters and tales based on their actions (these must be real actions).
The best looking ones we will edit into the manual.
There are some good ones here already, but there is still room for more.
From the writings of Sand Mirna:
'Who are the damn Valar that these priests keep going on about?
What have they to do with me?
Hell I'm a merchant guard why should give a damn about these other beings? I don't care that they seem imprtant to my father they have nothing to do with me.
I care about two things - getting paid and getting fed, what more is important in this life?'
Jorge the Merchant:
"The day the goblins attacked? Aye I remember that day. We were on a straighforward run, from Bree to Tharbad, so we only had two guarsd with us that day - Sand, and one other I forget his name now, but Sand, that one I'll never forget.
The goblins came piling out of the downs heading straight for us. Without a thought Sand charged into them, yelling at the rest of us to run. The other guard followed him in and they were making short work of the goblins. As they turned to flee, Sand leapt forward to follow, but tripped on a body. As he lay on the ground one of the fleeing goblins hit him a massive blow to the head with a club. I was sure he was dead.
However he was still breathing so we took him to the temple in Tharbad, and eventually he recovered. Well I say recovered, but he'd changed, well you know what I mean, you know whats he's like now."
From the writings of Sand Mirna:
How could I have been so wrong? I look at my earlier wrtitings and burn with the desire to destroy them However each time I feel this I convince myself to keep them, to remind me what I was like.
I know better now, ever since first mighty Illuvatar spoke to me my life has changed. They all speak to me now, and guide me in my new purpose in life.
I have been chosen, the Valar themselves have chosen me to lead the good peoples of Arda against the Shadow of the east, to fight evil in all its forms. Listen all, I have come to aid you. The valar give me my instructions and you must follow. Only by obeying can we hope to see vioctory against the shadow.
I have spoken, I Sand Mirna, chosen of the Valar!
Jubilation!"
I am Avalyn, cleric in the service of Ulmo, because he is so great :P
Talen Greymarck
11-09-2004, 01:23
*Preparing to rest by a campfire in the late hours of the night, embers crackle and spark into the air as the fire is stirred to life again. A few have fallen asleep already after long hours of travel, a meal, and tales told as they might by friends at a well used crossroads in the wild. Sleepily your eyes follow the path of the embers up into the air, past the dark silhouette of the surrounding fir and evergreen trees, until, above the blackness of the night forest your eyes meet the stars in the sky. Seeing your gaze drift upward, a man who introduced himself as Baragon glances your way from dark eyes beneath long brows.*
Have you ever wondered whether there are such beings as the Valar? I believe that they must dwell beyond that dome that arcs across these heavens, for only there could such beauty as I've heard them compared to exist. A million stars? Maybe a thousand lie up there? Surely more than enough light fills these heavenly jewels to destroy the darkness in this world forever. Always have those stars been there to guide men in this land that I call home, and I believe this is a blessed place. Forlindon is where my life has been spent, and if you're hoping to hear strange or wonderful tales of darkness and great deeds, do not trade your sleep for this story.
This tale is of a humble yet rich life, and is all that I have to tell. These mountains, the forests and fields that surround them, all the way to the sea have supported my family and those like us since before any but the ship builders and their people remember. My ancestors came east before, and then west after the fall of Arnor. I know you have heard of such a kingdom, or maybe you know of it only on the edge of your consciousness, but men once were great and had a civilization under great kings. Here we have found our place in the procession of the seasons by supplying the lumber that the elven craftsmen use to build their ships. Our paths through this land are long and our eyes fill with sweat as we work, but always there is joy at the end of the season. Waiting to greet us as our work is done are the white ships rocking at their quays, some fully realized and others nearing birth, that might carry those who are meant to go to a place where the heavens and the earth are said to meet. West from the Grey Havens there is always a clear view to the horizon that beckons the great travelers upon a cloud of foam. You would be enriched to see these things, for I deem that we are privileged to have a glance at what might soon cease forever. This land has bestowed its blessing upon us and we find delight in our lives here, but we are still the lost and always seeking. Don’t wonder what it is that we seek, for I’ve already spoken of it. For a moment, turn within yourself and imagine that time can be erased. Now see that this is not my face that is dimly revealed in the firelight but that of the least and the greatest Edain that have come before me in this age of the world. We are seekers and wish to rediscover naught but our purpose unmarred. We will redress that which has gone astray. You will be inspired by the possibilities, if you’d just let all that is bitter flee from your heart, if only for a while. What question is it that I see in your eyes? You wonder who it is that will stop men from regaining their purpose. There is a shadow, far in the East I’m told, that has trod in our deepest nightmares since the beginning of time and brought them to reality! Do not be cynical if you know this darkness, for its agents I do not fear! These are plain to see, and most slain easily by those who would organize against them. Nor do I fear death, for it is merely a road to my proper place in all that is. It is the darkness itself, within the hearts of our people that I fear. When any of the rightful children of the one are corrupted then an abyss opens in our midst and we must surely fall. Now I am ready to test myself against this fear and to stand against all the agents of the Nameless, alone and seeking to serve that which has given me all that I am. Where you now walk my roots have drank deep, and my hope for this world springs from it. The people and lands of our past call to me now to serve, so here you find me tonight beginning upon on this road to the East.
While you are here, just listen; what can you hear in this wilderness so long protected by the Eldar, and the Edain? All the animals of the natural world speak amidst Forlindon, the forests are as pillars which hold up a roof that covers all the wonders within. These streams trickle and splash and rivers rush to find their way to the sea, and the mountains rise to touch the clouds under white crowns, only to hear echoes of the past out of the west as the wind speeds to their highest summits. Walk a while here amidst these wonders as have all the rightful children of this world, elves, dwarves, and men, and find your purpose too.
Owl-Free
18-09-2004, 20:27
The elven champion Calia Hendel opened her damaged bag, taking out a pile of parchments with bits of writing carefully scribed onto them. She lay them out on the table in the right order, then took out a hefty book, complete with brand new leather cover - and started to write through the night, until her novel was finished, and the vat of ink had been completely diminished.
She handed it to her squire, who read it back to her.
"The contents page, m'lady. Chapter One - The Hendel Family Tree, and Family Friends. Shall I read this first?"He said, humbly.
"No, keep reading the contents..."
"Chapter Two - Myself. Chapter 3 - My Companions. Chapter 4 - Ainar Hendel-"
"Read that one...I am interested in whether I have done it correctly."
"As you say, m'lady...
A subject close to my heart and my soul is my brother. I once did love him so, but now fate has taken a turn for a worse, and I now hunt, not cherish nor assist him. An explanation, I believe, is needed.
My brother was born as I, out of a mother and father who were created directly by Manwe. He, as a boy, took a love for singing, and his bow skills were unmatched within our small town. He would spend hours on end practicing, against dummies, summoned beasts and targets. He spent his childhood doing as such, and filling our neighbour's hearts with wondrous joy and wow from his skills with the bow and arrow and voice. However, to be a master bowman was not his want in life. What he wanted most was to be able to flash gold in any way he wanted, be it hanging from his cloak, or from his headband, or glinting while overflowing from a sack full of it.
When we were sent to Rivendell to help in the war effort against Sauron, he stayed behind in safety, singing for the soldiers soon to march off. As I marched, using my best skills to help the valiant troops, he was back home, using his knife to slit purses and open locks.
When the war was over, and I returned to my home in Rivendell, I saw a new side to my brother. No longer did he enjoy singing, or love his bow to such a mad extent anymore. He cared only about gold.
When the second war broke out between the Free Peoples and Sauron, he was initially angry at the evil-doers. However, that soon changed. I know now that he is one of those evil-doers himself.
Where he has gone, or who turned him, still yet mystifies me. But I do now know why he turned...it is for his gold.
That good enough for you, priestess?"
"Yes...yes...goodnight, my friend, here is a little gold for you" She passed a small sack over.
"You shouldn't have...thanks a bundle."
Galdor_Niphredil
08-11-2004, 12:11
Just to help this thread be ressurrected ..
Golwen Niphredil
The first light of the dawn broke upon the courtyard as Golwen watched yet another company of Elves begin their last journey to the Havens of Cirdan.
He knew in his heart that this was to be the destiny of all of his kin, and that one day he too would travel to the lands beyond the Great Western Sea and leave the cares of the world behind him.
He would not make the journey yet however, as he still had hope that the enveloping Shadow could be curtailed in some way by spreading the wise words of the Valarian host to lands far and wide, and it was preordained that he himself was to play no small part in seeing this task done.
In Elrond’s libraries he had spent countless hours studying the Elves and their inherent magics and how best to channel them into a force for good, and like his fair brother Galdor he would soon travel the length and breadth of Middle-earth, destroying the plans of the Enemy in whichever guise they might be found..
Conflicts of the Silverswords
The passing weeks, months and even years have caused the hatred deep inside the man known as Avalyn Silversword the 38th to grow, developing into an all consuming desire for an end to his Brothers life. The endless hunt for the possessed Half-Brother proving to be more difficult than expected. Hunting his brother, the 38th knows that he is seeking the end of his bloodline, himself being the last surviving heir to the Silverswords legacy, and being a priest, vowed to a life of Celibacy. Yet, his passion for seeing the demise of his haunted brother, and the end of the shadows of his past push him onwards.
(Im going to speed up time due to the fact I wish to age my characters :P)
It has been sixteen years since the day when his Brother fell to the demon inside of him, and his travels across the land aiding the free in the struggle against evil have aided in his skills. The skills which will eventually end his line. The future of the Silverswords is balanced on a knifes edge, and no one can determine the outcome. Life or Death, a thin line between them.
Luthianna
16-11-2004, 15:38
So that people might understand Luthianna a little better... Sorry if its a bit wordy. :)
***
When the shadow began to take hold of Mirkwood, Luthianna Tyl'estra had just begun her training as a ranger - a defender of the forest. She was stationed, along with her father, at an outpost along the edge of the forest, where elves were attempting to ward off the encroaching evil. However, her post was a relatively quiet one, and so she spent a lot of time sitting at her fathers side watching him smith the weapons and armour needed, and wandering beneath the trees. Little did she know that this was the quiet before the storm...
Orcs attacked in the dead of night, a vicious assault that could not be turned away through normal means. They seemed driven by an unseen source, frenzied in their attacks. Luthianna watched horrified as her kin fell around her, herself unable to save them, and barely surviving herself. The moonlight glittered from their armour, sending flashes of light in all directions but one - the centre of their force. Within that core, not a glint of light could be seen, the dead of night itself resided there, and it was from there that the carnage about her stemmed from.
She was pulled to one side by her father and a small band of elves. They too had noticed the darkness at the centre of the orcs force, and felt the taint of evil coming from it. If that could be dealt with, they thought, the orcs might yet be disbanded. Luthianna was both the smallest, and nimblest of the remaining elves, and a last attempt was made at confronting the orcs, so that she might have cover to hide in the tree branches, and strike down the unknown creature with her bow.
She hid as best she could, aiming one of her remaining few arrows dead at the centre of the darkness, waiting for the oppertunity to strike. The moment came, and time seemed to come to a standstill.
Elves emerged from the shadows on all sides of the orcs, splitting them into separate groups, exposing their centre for an instant.
She let her arrow fly - and then watched with amazed, horrified eyes as it passed right through the dark creature, hitting the ground behind it.
Turning about, unsure of what to do, the orcs were gaining the upper hand yet again, the dark creature had drawn its sword...and was heading towards her father. She shot at again, and again had no effect upon it. Then with a heart full of terror, she leapt from her hiding place and ran towards the creature, drawing her shortsword. Dodging past many orcs, she arrived at her father's side, striking out at the creature just as it struck out at him.
As he fell, Luthianna's world came undone and she threw herself at the creature, using everything she had learnt so far. Its dark cloaks whirled about it, threatening to entagle her, whilst its wicked blade licked along her flesh at will - she had not the skill to win this battle. It was taunting her, she knew it, providing its orc companions with a show.
From the corners of her eyes she could tell she was alone now, no elvish footsteps stirred the grass, only the dull thump of steel-clad orcs. All alone. They had surrounded her now, a large circle spreading out to the edges of her vision, containing her and the creature she fought - the creature that toyed with her. Cruel smiles were playing across the orcs faces as the creature struck her once more. She fell to her knees, her hands landing upon her fathers shattered longsword. She clutched at it for any comfort it would bring her, she knew she would die here, now. The orcs were closing in as the creature drew back its sword, giving her one final glimpse of the world, of the creature that would kill her and of the weapon it wielded. It struck, its blade passing through her, and bringing with it darkness.
***
She awoke again in Lorien, her fathers longsword still gripped in her hands and with Lady Galadriel by her side. Elves from the next outpost had found her when she arrived, near to death and in need of healing that could only be found in Lorien. Luthianna felt weakened, but was glad to be alive - images of revenge began to cross her mind as Galadriel spoke to her of what had happened.
The blade that had wounded her had been an evil blade, and Galadriels touch would never remove its influence entirely. The elves of Lorien watched her quietly, and stood there silently as her soul was overcome by sorrow - and yet the woods of Lorien held a restraining hand upon the darkness. She resumed her training as a ranger, reaffirming her faith in the balance of the world, feeling herself the battle between good and evil inside of her, determined never to fall to the darker side, but afraid to fall too far to the other.
As the years passed, the need for retribution lessened, and her skills as a ranger grew. Her skills with stealth and tracking became legendary, but some elves sensed in her the reason why, and disapproved. Since that fateful night, the world of shadows and darkness was unlocked - but the healing hands of Galadriel had stopped it from becoming a prison. When needed she could retreat entirely from the world, treading silently amongst its people unseen - yet fully aware of the darkness watching over her shoulder.
A soul in conflict, she wandered the lands in hope that she might not fall to evil, holding in her heart the idea that if the world survived the conflict of light and dark, then she could too.
When the day comes, however, that she finds the creature that slew her kin, no-one can know which way the scales will tip. She simply prays that she will not turn into those she fights.
A broken longsword is always with her, for comfort, protection and revenge.
~Everard Brockhouse~
The only son of a hobbit family in Michel Delving Everard grew up hearing the mutterings around the shire about ‘Mr Bilbo’. The stories he heard always confuse the young Everard, they seemed both disapproving yet admiring at the same time. Almost as if the inhabitants of the shire generally disapproved of the idea of an Adventure, yet at the same time would admire any hobbit who went on one.
As time went by Everard started to get ideas of his own. He had already decided he wanted to be one of the Shirriffs of the Shire. After all he enjoyed walking, and more importantly drinking fine beer, and the opportunity to visit the inns of the shire appealed to him. However his imagination had also been sparked by the tales of Mr Bilbo Baggins, especially after his recent disappearance at his 111th birthday party.
So before he applied to become a Shirriff Everard decided to head into the wide world and experience an adventure of his own, so that when he returned to become a Shirriff the shire would talk of him as it did of Mr Bilbo Baggins.
Early one morning, the day after his 33rd birthday Everard took all his saving and headed East out of the Shire. Already a good tracker and hunter he lived off the land by setting snares till finally he reached Bree. There he purchased himself a Short Swird and Knife, then set off to find his adventure.
~Those who meet Everard always notice his young looking fave, and his overly positive outlook on everything. He seems to have not a care in the world, and always thinks things will turn out for the best. However he has but recently started his travels and may return to the Shire with a more jaded view of the world.~
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