The Tale of Arhdfaes

[Black Numenorean]

Chapter 1

Arhdfaes (Pronouciation: Aard-Fae-Us) slowly opened his eyes. He gazed up at the ceiling of his small apartment, there was a large painting depicting the fall of Lol-Longas to the forces of Darkness. Arhdfaes had commissioned the Hal-Faldoer's most distinguished artist to paint the striking piece of art, depicting the hordes of Darkness breaking through the last defences, the remains of the wall and gate and the protection spell. It also depicted the death of Neolnostar, the last king of the House of Tronostar of Los-Longas. He had been upon his horse directing the head Wizards as they tried to hold the protection spell over the city. An arrow had come soaring towards him, and before he could cast a deflection spell the arrow made a mortal wound to his temple, and with his head bloodied he fell off his steed, causing the Wizards to lose all hope and to save themselves and whichever defenders were around them by casting a teleportation spell. With the last of the protection spell gone the Trolls, Goblins, Dark Elves and Men, and their leader Gol-Gorathadum (Pronounciation: Gole-Gore-Aa-Thad-Oom) took the city without much resistance, a survivor's account had managed to survive the ages:

As the head Wizards deserted us taking their kind with them, everyone lost all their hope. Arrows flew past my head as I dragged my wounded comrade to the high center of the city, in the hope to escape. We tried to save as many women and children as we could, but most were slaughtered or enslaved by the victorious forces. They slowly made their way up the lanes and streets of Los-Langos, and I could see them from the high up walkway I traveled on. At their head were the trolls, behind them the Goblins, and behind them the Dark Men and the Elvish traitors who were able to slaughter their own kin. And above them was Gol-Gorathadum saddled upon his gigantic dragon Dol-Darakum (Pronounciation: Dole-Daer-Aa-Koom) who would sweep down and pick up random prey as Gol-Gorathadum cast Torture and Killing spells. Gol-Gorathadum was like no Troll, Elf, Man, or Goblin. He had the characteristics of a Dark Elf but was much more large and powerful, with a crimson blue face. We made it too the center with the rest of the refugees, and we managed to escape through a network of tunnels I knew as a boy....

From there on the account is too smudged out too read, for it is an old Elvish dialect no longer spoken since the Fall of Los-Langos. Arhdfaes's life was directly tied to the Fall of Los-Langos, for he had a secret in the core of his mind, a secret he reminded himself of every day by looking up into the face of his dying leader as he falls of his steed. A secret, that was about to be revealed...

[Black Numenorean]

Chapter 2

Arhdfaes walked down from his apartment and took the stairway that wrapped itself around one of the many tall and old trees in the city, and he stepped down onto one of the stone pathways that led around the city of Tol-Trainte (place of haven), he made it toward the halls of Folinwe, and he entered its atmosphere. The room was dark but there floating lights in the room that looked like the stars. Arhdfaes stopped and hesitated. He was having another flashback...

He was walking through a hallway, it was narrow, windowless and white. There was a bright light at the end. He emerged, there was his father, he was laughing. His mother was there too, she had a broad grin on her face. They were on a balcony overlooking the city. Arhdfaes could see its glimmering white buildings and streets. He looked up at his mother, her name was Dilwe, which means daughter of the wind. She was the most beautiful woman in the city of Los-Longas, and he had loved her with an unconditional love. Dilwe stood up and kissed Arhdfaes on his head and she left the balcony. He could hear the sounds of her feet echoing down the long hallway. His father started talking, "One day this city will all be yours, but before that time I want to give you this. It was my father's." Arhdfaes's father handed an amulet, but it was like none that Arhdaes had ever seen. It was on a small chain, almost invisible to the eye, and it had an infusion of all the colors that he had ever seen. "But I warn you, you must never wear this amulet or a very bad fate will befall you. It killed my father, and I was daft enough to wear it as a boy, so it will probably kill me. Tell noone of it, and hide it away from the world. I give it to you because when I die, and I am sure I will, I do not want it ending up in the wrong hands." Yes it was true, his father would die, because his father was Neolnostar, and Arhdaes was the last in the Tronostar line of kings, of the lost city of Los-Longas.

Back to the present, Arhdfaes sat down with his meal, Dor-Gana leaves garnished with wild berries and nuts of the forest, and Panfe bread fresh from the bakeries in the city, which had more skilled bakers than even the city of Los-Vraneti (city of tears). Arhdfaes looke up, he was staring into the eyes of a hooded dark elf, he blinked his eyes and the elf was gone. He came to the conclusion that he was hallucinating, for how would an outsider make its way into the city?