The Fall of Numenor

[Beruthiel's cat]

Great ideas for the books, Val. You should pursue it. I'd love to see it!

As far as the story goes, I'll comment on that for you in the proper thread.

I really like your young scribe idea for the RPG (why wouldn't I) and again, I offer the use of the name Nedron for as long as you need it!

[elvishfaerie3088]

Okay i'll join, but i feel like the only experianced one in rpgs in here, jeez that makes me feel old. Let's see a character....

Name: Malina
Race: of elves
Age: 316
Weapon of choice: Sword of elvish make of course
Description: i'll make it as short and simple as possible. Dark hair, blue eyes, light freckles, and takes her sword and battles very seriously, otherwise she's fun loving and care free. But when she finds out about the mystery unfolded she is outraged and that is why she has joined or is going to join?

[Beor]

Originally posted by Valandil
I think all the Faithful in the army or navy were 'in the same boat' (pun PURELY unintentional! ). Remember, this included Amandil and Elendil... so I'm sure you could talk to the big E! Amandil tells him that there is a loyalty higher than that to the king.

Yes - 97 is still a youngish man for a Numenorean of this time. They were still living to be about 200 - give or take... maybe longer among the Faithful, because those who desired the immortality of the Elves got even shorter lives... non-descendents of Elros may have not lived quite so long - but after 3000+ years, probably a reasonable chunk of the island's population was related to him in SOME way.

The dates are in Appendix B of RotK... so you don't need UT.

Man, you know your man-history, dude! I need to refresh on this stuff. What is a better resource in your opinion, The Appendix or the UT? I like the UT, but *looks around embarrassed* I've never really read the whole appendix. Never got past the war in Moria. . Anyway, I'll read up.

So, welcome, elvishfaerie3088, and hopefully my inexpierence doesnt piss you off (though it probably will ). Welcome to the team.

So, when we kicking this sucker off, and how many more people do we need? My axe is sharp, and only getting sharper! Pharazon is getting restless

EDIT: Whoa, I just read the Appendix up to the end of the northern line and stuff. There is a lot of good info in there, like a whole nuther story. Incredible! And indeed it is cool that the Icemen of the Icebay of Forochel (Sp?) get mentioned. They were probably Minnesotans. And I never picked it up before that the ring of Felagund was there the whole time. That thing is old!

[trolls' bane]

Oh, I guess I should mention my weapon. Ok, here it is: the "Tube."

P.S. Is anyone going to get to my island soon and leave me another boat? I'm kinda stranded now that my boats have been burnt...wait, did I post that yet.

[trolls' bane]

Okay, I see that I havn't. Well here it is.

He walked North-Northwest first: out of the hole in back. He had stopped coughing. They found the "tube" behind a tree that had been badly damaged by a collision from the "tube." The "tube" was still smoking and a nearby plant was scorched. He rolled his eyes .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fingolfin crashed through the trees. He was terrified. His house was a smouldering ruin, his sheep...dead, his cows...dead. All that remained to him was the clothes on his back and his orange and white cat, Beleg. The cat followed him through the forest, over the mountains, over the plain, and he still was there. He was headed for the sea, since all of Numenor seemed to be chasing him. He made it to a small cottage where his cousin once lived, now also burnt, and found the boat that luckily hadn't been found. There he rested for the night and decided to set out the next day.
When he awoke, he did just that. He began uncovering the large boat and preparing to leave. When the cat was aboard, they set out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sherlock and Nariel went the way the rock must have went, after carrying the "tube" back to the lab. They reached the ocean and had not yet found it, but when scanning the horizon, Sherlock noticed a small white rectangle, about a mile off. He instantly ran to where he kept one of his boats, and within about ten minutes, he was out on the water headed full speed toward where he saw the rectangle. He knew it was a ship, but what he saw surprised him beyond belief. He first saw the cat, orange and white, swimming in the water. Then he saw a boy about 10-13, holding on to the mast of a ship that was sticking out of the water. The odd part was that the ship, the bow and stern sticking up out of the water, had a large, gaping hole in the side. This embarresed him, but it alsoproved that part of his "tube" project had been a success. They helped the boy aboard, but had a little trouble getting the cat, since it kept bobbing away. Then Sherlock dove head-first into the water, toward the boat, and tied a rope to the stern.

When the boy was given fresh clothes and one of Sherlock's two guest houses, and the cat given food, and the boat “docked,” Nariel and Sherlock returned to his lab. This time, he built a new stand for the "tube" outside. Nariel helped him bring out sacks of powder, about three wheelbarrows full of more large round rocks, and a few poles, as they conversed.
"Now, what of your errand," he asked. "I'm sure you must get back to Numenor soon."
"Yes. I am supposed to be at a dinner next Saturday."
"Where are your guards? I haven’t seen them today."
"Oh, my guards...oh my god," she trailed off. She dropped the pole she had in her hand and stared out at the sea. Sherlock stopped what he was doing to look at what she was staring at. Out on the sea, about a quarter of a mile away, there was a small ship, with eight men aboard. Then Sherlock noticed that there was a column of smoke in the area where his small dock and that beautiful ship he and his wife had made...
He began fiddling with the "tube," and muttering to himself. He ran and got a lit torch out of the lab. When he returned he pointed the end of the tube with the large opening toward where the ship was. The rope had been lit. They heard the BOOM of the explosion, but following by a few seconds, a faint, distant lump-splash. They saw a column of water burst into the air about 30 feet from the boat.
"Now who's boat is going to end up wrecked!" Sherlock shouted at the top of his lungs, half mad.
He missed two more shots, but he had an idea. He took a rock that had a hole he had made in it. Heh, this is what you get for lighting my boat on fire he thought. He ran into his woodshed, and came back with a metal bucket. He poured a thick liquid out into the rock. Then, he sprinkled a handful of powder into the top. Then he hammered a cork in to the hole.
This time when he shot it, they heard a BOOM-lump-BOOOM. Nariel looked up and saw a column of fire where the boat once was, and fire was covering the nearby water.
“What was that!?” she asked.
“Mixed lacquer, powder, and lemon juice,” he said gleefully.
“What’s the lemon juice for?”
“So, if all else failed, their eyes would sting.”
“What!?” she exclaimed.
“Just joking. I just thought it was a good idea, but I don’t know why.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Food’s done!” Sherlock yelled from his kitchen.
Almost instantly, Nariel, the boy, and his cat ran into the room, all from different directions.
When they sat down to eat, Sherlock asked the boy who he was.
“My name is Fingolfin,” he said. “My parents were one of the leaders of the faithful. They came and burnt my house down, and I escaped with Beleg. Then I ran to-.”
“Beleg?” Nariel asked.
“My cat. I named him after Beleg Cuthalion. Anyway, I ran to where my cousin lived. His house was gone too, so I took the boat. Then, I sailed for three days aimlessly and when I saw this land, I decided to stop here. I figured that that stream over there was the River Harnen, or Gelion. I am on the coast of Beleriand, or the bay of Belfalas, right?”
“No, I’m afraid you won’t be able to go to either of those places, at least not soon. You are now on the Isle of the Baskervilles, or Sherlock Island as the Faithful call it, or the Isle of the Mad Wizard, or Deathtrap Island, as many others call it.”
“Oh, your that explosion guy, the one who was shipwrecked, and only came back in the boat that remained to pack up your house and shop. I’ve heard of you. They were planning to besiege your island and then destr-.”
“They would do no such thing! The hunters would’ve become the hunted. They would have regretted leaving their foolish master behind.”
“What was that you were doing earlier? I heard a few booms and crashes.”
“A new project, you’ll see.”
“Anyway, where did I leave off,” Fingolfin said. “Anyway, when I got within a mile, I heard a rumble and a crack. Then, when I peered overboard, I saw a rush of bubbles coming from the side. I had felt the impact. Then, it sank and then you came.”
"Now, Nariel, what of your message?" Sherlock asked. "Sorry there hasn't been a chance for you to finish it sooner."
"All it was, was that there is unrest in Numenor, and the king plans to sail to Valinor, despite warnings from the elves."


ooc. I wrote this a few days ago, and just when I was about to post it my computer went mad.

[trolls' bane]

I would have put it all in one post, but I had more than 7,500 (I had 7,937). So, here's the rest:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BOOM-Kaplunk!
Although their guest houses were several hundred feet from eachother, Fingolfin and Nariel both jumped up at the sound.
BOOM-BOOOM.
They also could both hear the roaring of flames, but Nariel, already outside, saw smoke rising (it was early morning, approx. 5:00 AM) from the far side of the "mountain," upon which stood her uncle's house. She ran back in, dressed, and hurried toward Sherlock's laboratory, where the sounds came from.
BOOM-BOOOM.
She could see another figure running behind her, and a shorter shadow, which were Fingolfin and his cat.
BOOM-Kaplunk.
She began to wonder what he was shooting at.
Her answer came almost immeadieatly. She saw a light on her right, out on the water. Then, she noticed it lit something. She stopped, and out of nowhere, her uncle ran right into her, which saved her life, because just then a flame shot right over her head. It was a spear. Her uncle helped her up stopped Fingolfin, and motioned to them to follow him. He led them to his lab.
"Help me carry this up to the top my house," he said, motioning toward the tube, which was belching a black smoke. "The Dining Hall is the only way in. The main enterance is on fire."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When they had reached the top, he set up the base.

[Valandil]

Originally posted by Beor
Man, you know your man-history, dude! I need to refresh on this stuff. What is a better resource in your opinion, The Appendix or the UT? I like the UT, but *looks around embarrassed* I've never really read the whole appendix. Never got past the war in Moria. . Anyway, I'll read up.
:
EDIT: Whoa, I just read the Appendix up to the end of the northern line and stuff. There is a lot of good info in there, like a whole nuther story. Incredible! And indeed it is cool that the Icemen of the Icebay of Forochel (Sp?) get mentioned. They were probably Minnesotans. And I never picked it up before that the ring of Felagund was there the whole time. That thing is old!

Yeah! Isn't that stuff cool! Maybe you're starting to see why, but that's a particular interest of mine... which is what makes it easy to learn. As far as sources... I'll use any of them. The appendices are great... and it's hard to really 'read' App B - but you can refer to it for things you get curious about. It shows there the years in the Second Age that Sauron was taken to Numenor and when Numenor was destroyed. Other sources (wherever I can glean stuff): UT, Peoples of Middle-Earth (12th & last in the HoME series - and the only one I have) - plus a bunch of those Michael Martinez articles... several contain interesting speculation (along with some 'facts' - in this fictional sense) about the history of Arnor, etc.

(EDIT: Oh - and of course the two stories in the Silmarillion book: 'Akallabeth' and 'Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age')

[trolls' bane]

Anyone going to help me?
Anyway, here's the rest.

Some time later, when all but two of the attacking Numenorean boats had been destroyed, Sherlock was watching one of the boats with his glass. Upon it, he saw a very disturbing sight. A figure of a man was bound to a mast. The most disturbing part was that the man was someone he knew...his brother.
The realization hit him like a wave, he lost balance, and almost fell backwards.
Now he knew what he had to do. He went down into the house, picked out the longbow that he once used for hunting, and fastened the Mithril mail vest a dwarf smith had made him on an expedition to the Numenorean colony in Umbar. He then loaded his quiver with twenty fine-tipped arrows. If he still had the skill he had had when he was a longbowman in the raid of one of the temples where Necromancer had sacrificed his father, he could easily put a few arrows through a few men.
When he had reached the shore nearest to the boat, he hid behind a tree, the tree he planted where his ship had been destroyed.
He drew his bow back, and shot at the man guarding his brother. The arrow hit it's mark, but no one was alerted. The alert came, however, when he missed and shot the man at the helm through the hand, pinning him to it. He cried out in agony. The two at the prow of the boat turned and saw what happened. One ran for the cabin and returned with a bow in his hand, while the other drew a knife and put it to the bound man's neck. He would have slain the man, but recieved an arrow through the neck. The other ducked beind a barrel where Sherlock couldn't shoot him. Sherlock could still see the bow, however, and that it was drawn, aiming at his brother, Sir Charles Baskerville (yes, I know I've gotten worse with names ). He could do nothing, other than watch helplessly.
Then the bow drew back more, and all hope left Sherlock...
A loud BOOM shook the earth, immeadieatly followed by a crashing sound. The barrel was there no more, just splintered wood the railing was gone, too. That left only the man at the helm, who now was howling with agony from the acid on the tip of the arrow. The man almost tore his own arm off trying to get the arrow out of the wood and his hand. Sherlock pitied him, and decided to go get the small raft that remained to him from the dock.

[Valandil]

Originally posted by trolls' bane
Anyone going to help me?

Well... you DID kind of set yourself away from everyone else. And I don't think the game proper has even started yet... we still seem to be in the 'character creation' stage.

(EDIT: I'm not even quite sure who you're fighting or how it fits into the story setting... )

[trolls' bane]

Originally posted by Valandil
Well... you DID kind of set yourself away from everyone else. And I don't think the game proper has even started yet... we still seem to be in the 'character creation' stage.

(EDIT: I'm not even quite sure who you're fighting or how it fits into the story setting... )

...

Wait a minute, is this smilie new? It looks familiar...
*Twilight Zone music playing in the background*
It's as if it's brand new yet Entmoot had it before.

[Rosie Gamgee]

Whoa! Sorry I haven't been here. It appears my RPG is getting away from me . Well, since there's a lot of people now (and I'm not sure exactly how far we've progressed in the story), I'll try to make a more clear outline of the plot:

Elendil's father has been away for sometime on his quest to Valinor. The Faithful meet in the house of Elendil, and there he tells them that he has learned of the King's plan to sail to Valinor. He knows this will be disastrous, and orders the making and equipping of ships to sail to Middle Earth. A few elves could be present at this meeting, and we still need three people to be Elendil, Anarion, and Isildur. I think I'll take Anarion.
Now, after this meeting we commense to building ships with all haste. We are thwarted by the King's bad guys, but we succeed.
Then, the big day. The King's fleet sails, and the Faithful board their ships- or not. Morning comes, and the adventure really starts. I suppose we can carry this all the way to ME, if we want to.

Okay, ic:

Gilwen ran through the streets of Romenna (spl?). She had to get back to her master's house, and she was in great haste. Her shopping basket was forgotton, and the eggs she had been sent to fetch for the cook were now dropping onto the street as Gilwen ran. She broke through crowds, and heard the crashes and cries of annoyance from the people she'd disturbed. What did she care? She had important tidings to carry.
Not more than fifteen minutes before, she'd been selecting eggs and squash for the afternoon meal. Elendil's new cook was getting aquainted with the kitchen, and sent Gilwen to fetch the food. Too soft, too firm- ah! Here was the perfect squash. Gilwen held it up for the merchant to see. He came from behind the cart to tell her how much it cost.
"Ah! Gilwen," said he in greeting. He, too, was one of the Faithful, but did a very good job of hiding it, and was not wanted- as she was- by the King's guard. Luckily for her, she dressed far below her station now, and no guard of the King would even notice her in the hubbub of a market square. "I see you've dug through all of my squashes to find the perfect one- faithful as ever."
Gilwen caught the word. It was a secret signal. He had news for her to bear to her master. "Yes, indeed, sir," she replied. "I do hope that you will not have only rotten squash."- meaning: "Was it bad news?"
The merchant nodded, keeping a smile on his face. "It seems that the crops of squash I've been reciveing of late are getting blighted." Ah, so this was bad news he'd recieved from someone else. He went on, "The King should look into what his ships are carrying."
Gilwen smiled, but tried to decern what exactly that phrase meant. Ships?
"But," the merchant went on with a big breath, "he is devoting much of his time to his navy, I think. Seems he plans to visit some Friends."
Gilwen's eyes widened. 'Friends' were the Eldar. The King was going to 'visit' them? Then it hit her. The King was planning an attack on Valinor, as had been rumored about. It was really happening.
She didn't even pay him for the squash. She began by walking, then quickened her pace until she was sprinting through the streets of the town, scattering people and pigieons alike.

*****

Anarion sat in the garden outside his father's house. A foreboding feeling seemed to have crept into his heart while he was sleeping, and it would not dissipate even as the morning drew on. Rather, it heightened. Why? he wondered. He thought of telling Isildur, but then, his older brother was hardly interested in the intuitions of his younger sibling.
What was that? Someone was creating a big ruckus outside the garden, in the street. Fear immeadiately seized his heart. Were there soldiers come to take his father, and the rest of his household, away? Had they been discovered here? Was this the thing his heart had been telling him?
No, for now the back gate opened, revealing only little Gilwen. She look flustered, and her long hair was rediculously disheveled. She had but two eggs in her shopping basket, and one of them was broken. He almost laughed at the sight of her.
"Gilwen," he called, and she noticed that he was sitting there in the corner.
"Yes, m'lord?" She came over to him, but looked figity and anxious to get in the house. He wondered what was the matter.
"Have you hurried all the way from the marketplace to bring home broken eggs?" he asked her.
"Lord," she said, suddenly quite serious and ignoring his teasing query. "Is my Master Elendil within?"
He frowned. Why was she so serious? "Yes. What troubles you?" That gnawing feeling crept back into him as he searched her eyes.
"Come inside and I will tell you," she said in a low voice, looking at the walls of the garden as if she suspected they had ears.
Gilwen hurried for the door, and Anarion followed her. Perhaps she had recieved news in the marketplace. It happened often enough, although it was usually another servant who brought home the message. Gilwen was not often sent to fetch food.
As soon as the door shut, Gilwen exclaimed, "The King is attacking Valinor!"
Anarion stared at her for a moment. No. Surely not. The King was foolish, certainly, but not that insane as to blantantly defy what gods had decreed. "What?" was all that came out of his mouth.
Gilwen took a breath, and looked as though she'd just set down a great burden, though all she did was put her basket down. "The King is mustering his navy for an attack on the Eldar," she said, a little more calmly than before.
Anarion noticed someone in the hall before them. It was his brother, who'd probably heard Gilwen's voice and come to see what was happening. "Isildur!" Anarion called, and his brother emerged into the room, looking curious. "Where is Father? Gilwen has news from the market."
Isildur's eyebrows flinched. "He's in the library," he said. The threesome hurried that way.

[Valandil]

(EDIT: OOC post)

Rosie, I got an idea if you're interested: How about if you 'godmod' those major people (Elendil, Isildur & Anarion) - and then we all play 'regular people' who are among the Faithful... trying to join Elendil's escape?

For ships... it would be a major undertaking to try to build new ones - and would attract the King's attention. Elendil and his sons were probably already scurrying around, trying to avoid getting shipped to the west side of the island, where the armada was gathering. I'd suggest that Elendil most likely got ahold of some 'surplus ships' - maybe those that had been at the disposal of the Lords of Andunie - and which had been used in the mission to humble Sauron about 60 years before.

Elendil and his family had been among the Faithful all along, but were discreet about it at first - to not attract too much attention. By this time, it's at least an 'open secret' - and he has made the pretense of gathering the last of the Faithful to bring as colonists to Middle-earth. The King's likely attitude is 'good riddance' - just so he's not aware that Elendil has a reasonable number of fighting men along with him (King Ar-Pharazon would want them for the 'assault' on Valinor).

Also - if we want to keep continuity with Tolkien's account, I suggest three other things: (1) Doubtful we're at Elendil's house - unless it's a 'second house' at Romenna or in the capital of Armenelos... the Faithful were all re-located to the east of the island - to Romenna - away from those pesky Elves to the West and close under the King's watchful eye - Andunie, the home of Elendil's family, was on the west side of the island... though it's likely he could easily have residences in Romenna and /or Armenelos. (BIG TIME EDIT: Rosie, you were right... Amandil (and one would assume Elendil had use of it) DID have a house in Romenna - it's mentioned in 'Akallabeth'!) (2) I think we have to go it without Elves... they hadn't come to the island for some time... even in the time of Ar-Pharazon's uncle, Tar-Palantir, who repented and was of the Faithful - the Elves didn't come to Numenor. (3) It took some time for the King's armada to reach Valinor... and that's when all heck broke loose. It was probably a month or so (we should really all re-read 'Akallabeth' in 'The Silmarillion' book - to re-familiarize ourselves with the setting and some of the details)... I think it might be best to set the start of the game before they sail - so we still have to worry about not getting caught and dragged off to serve in the armada.

Of course, I don't know much about these role-playing games, and how acceptable it is to 'bend' some of the 'historical' details... I guess my preference is to stay 'faithfull (*pun* ) to what JRRT tells us, and play within that context. I think it could still be fun that way... but does that make it too burdensome to the rest of you?

[Beruthiel's cat]

I like your ideas, Val, and they have given me some insight as to how to set up Lysial's entry into the plot (I've been mulling it over for a few days as it is...)

I'm going to kick it around some more over the weekend, but I see Lysial as trying to get to the bottom of the reason behind her master's death and having the trail lead her to the Faithful. I haven't decided quite how to play it out, though -- whether she thinks they are responsible or whether she thinks they know something and can help her.

**Puts on Cap of Inspiration** working...working...working

[Beor]

Demaethor looked out the window of his small flat overlooking the water. The massive fleet was gathered in the bay, looking extremely foreboding, especially in the twilight of the evening. Mariners were still running all over the place, tying a rope here, nailing down a board there, loading the ships for the big war that was coming.

The setting sun reminded Demaethor of just how much he didn’t want to go to the west. The promise of an immortal life was tempting, but no, thanks, that was not something he was going to try to attain by force of arms. Pharazon was crazy, he knew that. Yet, he felt an obligation to follow him. Captain Demaethor, one of the greatest of Pharazon’s captains, defecting to the Faithful. Yeah, that would definitely go over well with the king, and the court.

A large crowd had gathered around the dock directly below his window. Apparently, something was going on down in the square. As he looked down, he noticed that the crowd was gathered around two men who were fighting. He wondered what the reason for the quarrel was. It probably didn’t matter anyway, men had been fighting for no reason at all lately, ever since that “counselor” Sauron had become close with the king. The kings chief counselor, actually, and that didn’t sit too well with Demaethor, not too well at all. The devil could sway peoples minds, and he did. Men were going crazy, giving in to the mob, and following the kings ridiculous edicts (which Demaethor suspected to have something to do with Sauron’s whispering in his ear), sacrificing people to the One Dark God, or whatever they called their new deity. Demaethor preferred the Valar, at least Olwe and Unien, if they actually existed, didn’t demand sacrifice (although they got it, what with all their throwing of the seas).

The place was going to hell, and Demaethor found himself having trouble deciding what course to take. One was with the king, and that choice had a darkness about it. Not only that, but he didn’t want to invade Valinor. It didn’t seem right, even if it did succeed, which it might. The armada of Phrazon was quite impressive.

The other choice was to go with Elendil, and the rest of the Faithful.

It seemed ridiculous to think about, going with those old-fashioned Elf-Friends. The party was small, and he had done in some of them himself, at the kings orders. The thing was, that not one of the many wars that he fought in hurt him so much as executing three of the Faithful. His conscience still ached at the memory of that, and that ache was the root of this current feeling of confusion. Three young boys, couldn’t have been over thirty years old. Such a waste of life, and all over a belief. No, not a belief, a fear. The kings fear of the elves, and of those who love them still. Demaethor followed his orders, followed his orders exactly. He could still see the look on their faces when the axe fell. It was a look of forgiveness, and that is what effected him the most.

Demaethor sighed and moved away from the window to his table. His sword lie there, on a sheepskin mat. He rolled it up and placed it in a large bag and put it in his kitchen behind the fireplace. If he did decide to convert, he might have to have a few spare weapons lying around.

He put on his best tunic and trousers and threw on a hat. He wrapped a scimitar around his waist and headed out the door. The sun was down, and the night had begun, and he needed to ride. He saddled his horse and took off north. Maybe a brisk ride across the peninsula would do him good.

[Valandil]

Esteldur finally caught sight of the coast ahead... with the sun sinking into the horizon. He had smelled the sea breeze for several miles. He knew the smell from trips between Armenelos and Romena - but this was the first time he had been to the west of the island. He reigned his mount to a halt to take in the sight, events of the days before his journey whirling through his mind.

He bore a message for the King... from the Lord Sauron himself! Unusual circumstances... he had been the very scribe to write it down, and men being occupied in preparations for the assault on Valinor, Sauron had commanded him to deliver it himself... with the greatest speed he could make. Being in the presence of Sauron had always made his skin crawl... so it was good to be away on an errand for several days. It was especially hard to be around Sauron since his parents had disappeared... Esteldur imagined he knew where they had gone. Likely sacrificied at Sauron's own temple, by Sauron's command... maybe even by his own hand! Yet Sauron had kept him around... in his position as apprentice of the Royal Scribes. It seemed to him that Sauron watched him closely these past weeks - since his family had been broken up. Maybe Sauron suspected him as well... and was waiting for him to reveal himself... to commit himself. His father, Nedron, had been a Chief Scribe. But his father had also spoken up for the Faithful. That very night, in the middle of the night, armed men had come and taken his parents away. His older brother was of age to fight... so he was sent west, to the gathering armada. At their mother's pleas, one of the men had taken Esteldur's small brother with him... to take him into his own home. The men seemed to dislike what they were doing, but as soldiers under command, they did their duties. They said his older sisters would make good "wives" for some lucky young soldiers... and they took Esteldur out of his father's home, which Nedron had by right as a Chief Scribe - and put him in the rooming house with the other scribe's apprentices at the palace.

The men had been kind enough to let his father speak parting words in private to each of his family. His father had told Esteldur to be brave, like a man... though he was only 14. He had told him to remember the teachings he had learned in his family... but now Esteldur wasn't so sure, with the ruin it had brought them to. He told him to hold his tongue... even though he hated Sauron who had destroyed his family. He told him to aid the Faithful if he could... but the very message he bore could mean the death of some.

He told him 'good-bye'... his father clearly didn't expect to live to see the dawn. The men took his father and mother away... away, toward the domed temple.

That was all less than a month ago. Then... Sauron had called him to record a message to the King. Esteldur didn't understand all the meanings... Sauron was a master at speaking in innuendo, cloaking his full message from all but those to whom he wished it revealed. But it obviously involved Elendil... and the small fleet he held off Romenna. Though the King seemed content to dismiss Elendil, perhaps sentimental from his childhood friendship with Amandil, Elendil's father... it seemed that Sauron wanted Elendil destroyed. Esteldur saw Elendil at the palace... once! He seemed a great man, greater than the King, if it was not wrong to think so. He was tall indeed! And he treated Sauron with great caution - and it was clear to all that Sauron's dislike of Elendil was mutual. Esteldur's wild imagination conjured up images of Elendil and Sauron engaged in a great life-and-death struggle... ending in BOTH of their deaths. It would be a shame for Elendil to die... but if he took Sauron with him, it would seem worth it to Esteldur!

Back to the task at hand... hated or not, he was accountable to Sauron, and it would go ill with him if he failed in this task... or even delayed more than needful. Let's see... it was 'take the road to the coast... south, which was left, along the coast - and he would shortly come to the armada'. He was to seek the King's encampment - and deliver the scroll with the message. Then he was to await the King and bring back whatever reply he would send.

With the setting sun, he knew he had good reason to camp for the night where he was, but something told him he was quite close... and that it would go ill for him if Sauron learned he had camped within a few leagues of the King at the end of the trip. Sauron learned the most incredible things too... so such a thing did not seem beyond him. Besides, the moon was out and the sky was clear. Though he was a bit tired, it seemed a pleasant night to be out riding... a nice enough change from the ominous weather signs of late, it seemed a veritable gift from the Valar... but he wasn't supposed to think that... certainly not to say it!

On to the coast ... then south along it...

[trolls' bane]

ic.
"Ha-ha! we got ourselves a boat!"
Sherlock was overjoyed. However, he did not plan to use the boat...yet. He rowed himself closer to the small ship, devoid of it's crew, save his brother, and the man at the helm, who was still howling in agony, clearly too preoccupied to notice someone was rowing towards him.
Sherlock laughed to himself. It was like a comical play of the Lay of Leithian, in which the man was Charcaroth (is it spelt right?), after he consumed the Silmaril, and the hand that held it.
He stopped rowing. He just remembered something. There were two more boats...weren't there? He could have sworn that there were two left and glanced around. Nothing. Nothing but his island and a small group of gulls flying toward Beleriand. Well, he thought. That accounts for one, but where is the other?
He shrugged, thinking that either there was only one ship left when he had noticed that, or maybe they fled to Numenor. He turned to face the boat and was just about to start rowing again when a great noise arose behing him. Disbelief, but more horror, filled him when he turned. From where his wood/storage shed had been, smoke was billowing in a black pillar. And out of it, things were flying about, leaving a trail of smoke behind each. Whenever they hit something, they exploded, and some exploded in midair.
That was too much for him. The past few days he had gotten little rest, and much less sleep. He flopped over on his side, almost into the water. He lay there a while. This has got ot be a bad dream. I just need to sleep in more. No, this couldn't be a dream, because everything felt too real. Besides, if it was a dream, he wouldn't be thinking it was.
It was real, and all of the new exploding projectiles had been destroyed. A peice of charred wood fell into the water next to him. That made him sick.

[Valandil]

The path along the coast was narrower than the road, but Esteldur gave the horse his head and let him go. The ride was exhiliarating... the clear night sky, the fresh sea air, the moonlit landscape... it seemed like a dream-world for a city boy.

Before long he noticed another rider... heading his way. It seemed a rather largish man, riding alone. Esteldur grabbed the reins to slow his horse to a walk. As they drew closer, Esteldur noticed his apparel... he was well-outfitted, apparently not a poor man. He had met few riders on the road... mostly farmers and merchants with carts and wagons... not many were out traveling far these days... and he had seen no other messengers. The last thing Esteldur expected was to meet another rider at night.

Decorum called for the junior or lesser of any two to greet the other first. Esteldur tried to clear his throat and raise his voice:

"Hail and well met! Greetings... I am Esteldur of the King's service, and I bear the King a message from the Lord Sauron. Do you know where I may find the King?"

[Valandil]

OOC Post: Rosie...

Let me know if I've 'hijacked' this thread too much and taken it where you didn't want it to go. I haven't decided EXACTLY the contents of the message I'm bringing from Sauron to Ar-Pharazon, but I'm thinking he's probably asking the king to send forces to destroy Elendil and his people. Here are some possibilites for how this could play out:

1. The King gets the message, but decides not to do as Sauron requests... either for the sake of his old friendship with Amandil, Elendil's father - OR because it's too close to the time he intends to sail for Valinor - and he doesn't want to delay setting forth, or diminish the force he brings with him.

2. The King gets the message, and decides to send ships (15? 20? 30 or 40?) to Romenna to wipe out Elendil's group... however, this is a long way around and the travel might take a week or more (from the map, it looks like maybe 1200 miles around, with all those peninsulas - and some of the trip with contrary winds - it's less than 200 miles back to Armenelos and just over 200 to Romenna - so by horse, maybe 3-4 days to Armenelos and another to Romenna - at a good pace)... Esteldur and Demaethor could ride back fast enough to beat the fleet back and warn Elendil.

3. Esteldur could find a way to not deliver the message - or maybe he and Demaethor could come up with some other way to influence the King to not act on Sauron's wishes. All this of course, might put Esteldur in personal jeopardy with Sauron - so he may have to scoot on out of the palace...

And, Rosie... if you WILL control Elendil, Isildur & Anarion - would you also like to control Ar-Pharazon and Sauron?

[trolls' bane]

Originally posted by Valandil
Well... you DID kind of set yourself away from everyone else. And I don't think the game proper has even started yet... we still seem to be in the 'character creation' stage.

(EDIT: I'm not even quite sure who you're fighting or how it fits into the story setting... )

ooc. I didn't know it at the time, but it looks like I'll be headed to Romenna soon enough. Yes, I will bring that "tube" though, but no powder. However, I will NOT be bringing powder. Too nervous after the former accident that left my charecter stranded anyway. I'll tell you how I got my powder...but not yet.
This is going to be a blast...literally!
As for who am I fighting, I am fighting a few lesser Numenorean soldiers that work for Sauron and don't plan to go.

[Beor]

Demaethor looked to the sky. The star of Earendil was approaching its zenith, which meant that, as the mariner in him would say, that it was high time to change the watch, approaching midnight, by land standards. He decided to ride to the eaves of the forest north about five miles (sorry, don’t know how to make the conversion to leagues), and there to rest among the yavannamire, which were blooming currently, spreading their beautiful, calming scent across the plain, and the nessamelda, which had just finished its spring bloom, and was preparing to bloom again. Trees left by the elder, who never came to the island anymore.

He reached the forest about half an hour later, riding at a smooth pace. The trees were lovely in the starlight, reminding him of tales his father had told him of the days when the Eldar still occaisionally walked among them. He was sitting up against the trunk of a nessamelda that had just dropped its fruit, when he noticed a mounted figure riding west by south along the road that led to Eldalonde. In the dark, he couldn’t see much of the figure, but he didn’t look like a full man. More like a boy, or like one of the lesser men he had fought in the eastern lands across the sea, in stature at any rate.

He moved to the edge of the wood, leaving his horse grazing where he had stopped and watched the figure. As he neared, he noticed the garments that the boy wore, and the boy’s smooth face. And the emblem of the king’s counselor on the horses shroud. This was Sauron’s messenger, or a scribe of some sort. What in the name of the Valar (which were now taboo, and more of a curse anyway) was such a young boy riding alone at night? And what was the message, that Sauron would send him east? The war. It had to be concerning the war. The king was camped at Eldalonde, ready to go. What sort of message would he really need to heed? He watched the boy ride by, and puzzled himself with the query.

The Faithful. Sauron knew of Elendil and his band. People were arrested everyday to become sacrifices. The message had to have something to do with them. It must be pretty important, too, to send such a young boy riding across the island only days before the fleet was to sail.

He ran to his horse, jumped on his back, and spurred him out of the forest on a course towards the boy. Then he stopped. It would be more tactful to come around and meet him from the front. He didnt want to scare the kid away, or have him yell out. He didnt need anyone to know that he was trying to intercept a message from Sauron. He took his horse to the east, down a small valley running almost parallel with the road and brought his horse to a gallop, coming around the boy and ending up at the base of the wall of the valley, where the road ran through it.
At the road, he stopped, and let the horse catch its breath. The boy wasnt riding too fast, he was still a ways back. Demaethor composed himself, and turned Andacar up the hill on the road.
Just as he crested the hill, he saw the boy, and the boy obviously saw him, he could tell by the way he shifted in his saddle.

"Hail and well met! Greetings... I am Esteldur of the King's service, and I bear the King a message from the Lord Sauron. Do you know where I may find the King?"

"Aye, the King is encamped at Eldalonde, south of here." Had to be tactful, if the boy was truly loyal to the king, he would not be too keen on letting Demaethor slow him down, "Might I ask what the message entails, as many of the Faithful are about," he gave the kid a sideways glance, "and may mean to mislead the king into some..." had to sound like a loyal officer here, which up until moments ago, he was, "sort of folly."