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| 1. Wind-Singers Prologue I: Ranyaro- Tales of the Wanderer; A story intended for a wider audience- divided into chapters | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 5 2013, 09:24 AM (683 Views) | |
| Yucalwe | Nov 5 2013, 09:24 AM Post #1 |
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Chapter I: One Set Apart A long time ago, a continent sank. It was a beautiful continent and it had fine weather. Sinking, it vanished beneath the Sea. The Eldar fled to higher ground as it sank. Most that once existed is now lost. One survivor trailed the coastal-lands of Middle-Earth for centuries. Another sought his trail, and could not find it. This other continued up the Anduin into fairer lands. Nigh Lindorinand he dwelt for nearly an Age. Then the war came, and he missed the battlefields of the old world and their old ways and their old notions of honor and sacrifice. He befriended several younger soldiers, who fought in memory of fallen Eregion. He polished their armor and shined their shields. He taught them the old ways. Then everyone was dead except for him. And Gil-galad King perished before his eyes. He blamed himself for his comrades' deaths. He loved them as if they were his sons. The Enemy fell, but he fell with the Enemy. He left the battlefield a broken Elf. In exile, he wandered west. He came upon the glimmering Sea. The Elves of Edhellond were toiling with the ships. The water was clean. He dove beneath the waves and swam. Long years of toil were washed away. He came up from the depths anew, and folded his robes and vast cloak upon his arm. He crossed the sands and came beneath fair trees. He rested beneath its bough, and its leaves shown forth as if they were made of gold. It was autumn. Edited by Yucalwe, Dec 6 2017, 05:55 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Nov 5 2013, 10:20 AM Post #2 |
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Chapter II: The Singer by the Sea He wandered along the shores of the Sea nigh Edhellond. He came upon a small inlet flanked by cliffs, and within the cliffs was a cave. As he passed within he found a curious sight: Old books were deposited upon a shelf near the cavern wall. There was a fire in the hearth, and a table carved of stone. Near the rear of the cavern was a bed. Upon the wall was an ancient crest, worn by time and the elements. Its identity was indecipherable. And sitting on the table was a solitary harp. "Who has entered my domain?" a voice called from behind. He turned swiftly and saw an aged Elf from ages past. His face seemed fair and beautiful, but there were lines of weariness near his solemn eyes. Ranyaro learned later that this Elf had journeyed East before the Fall of Doriath, and had returned after searching fruitlessly for something in the wastes of distant Rhun. Ranyaro sighed, "Forgive my intrusion. I did not realize..." The solemn Elf gazed upon him, "That an Elf would dwell so far from the western lands? I understand. Please, come and sit with me. Ages have passed since I have beheld my kindred." Ranyaro sat across the table from the Elf. The Elf took the harp off the table and placed it near his side. Ranyaro gazed into those aged eyes in awe and wonder. Could he be... The Elf smiled, "You may call me Mistaro." Ranyaro smiled, "A Quenya-name for an Elf who is clearly Sindarin. You remind me of the Doriathrim of old." Mistaro closed his eyes, "I know not the realm of which you speak. I know both tongues nonetheless." Ranyaro closed his eyes, "If you are not Daeron, the minstrel of legend, then you must be Makalaure." Mistaro chuckled, "Nay, I am not the Son of Feanor." Then he became serious, "But the name of Daeron is dead. He passed away long ago. He vanished into the East and dared not return. He was never found again as he sang of his lost love, Luthien. I have heard the tale of him, but I do not sing of it. His was a sorry tale, but pathetic. He who pities himself is lost. He who feels sorry only for oneself is dead. The name of Daeron is dead. He passed away long ago. He vanished into the East and dared not return. He was never found again as he sang of his lost love, Luthien." Ranyaro's eyes grew wide, "Then you are Daeron!" Mistaro appeared perplexed, "I repeat once again. The name of Daeron is dead. He passed away long ago. He vanished into the East and dared not return. He was never found again as he sang of his lost love, Luthien. I knew Daeron once, he was as a brother to me. He passed away long ago. He vanished into the East and dared not return. He was never found again as he sang of his lost love, Luthien." Ranyaro's eyes spoke of utter confusion, "Then you are as Alcon was to Makalaure?" Mistaro sighed, "To your question, I will say neither yea nor nay. If you believe that I am Daeron, then I am Daeron, and if you believe that I am not Daeron, then I am not Daeron. The name of Daeron is dead. He passed away long ago. He vanished into the East and dared not return. He was never found again as he sang of his lost love, Luthien." Ranyaro smiled, "Then I will let your identity remain ambiguous. One cannot claim to have solved all of the riddles and mysteries of Arda. Even if I found Elured and Elurin, and Daeron of Doriath, and Makalaure lost along the shores of the Sea, and understood the names of every Ent and spoke the Entish tongue, and could name every flower, bird, and beast, and spirit that dwelleth under the sun, I should wrong most of the Elven world. I cannot know all things, nor do I seek to know all things. Alcon found two children. I believed them to be Elured and Elurin. He believed otherwise. To him they are Fareon and Lerinon, his sons. Let their identities remain ambiguous. The only one whom I have known is Makalaure. The Sons of Feanor alone shall I permit myself to know. Yet I betrayed them for a higher cause. Now you see me as I am. I pity myself not for it. I pity they whom I betrayed." Mistaro smiled, "Then come, and share my supper." Edited by Yucalwe, Sep 26 2015, 08:15 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Nov 5 2013, 10:39 AM Post #3 |
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Chapter III: The Two Wanderers Ranyaro and Mistaro supped on fish newly caught from the Sea. He watched as Mistaro cleaned the fish, and slowly prepared them. They were careful to avoid the bones. It was a fine meal. Then Mistaro brought forth wine from the vineyards nigh Edhellond, "There is an Elf Haven to the north of here. They prepare fine wine." Ranyaro sighed, "Many ages have past since I have tasted wine." Mistaro smiled, "Have you forgotten how to drink fine wine?" Ranyaro nodded. Mistaro placed the bottle in an open shaft where cold winds blew in from the Sea. Then once the wine was chilled, he opened it slowly. Then he slowly poured the glass. Reverently, he poured it slowly. The wine slowly filled the glass. The hearth made the air smell as incense. Mistaro lit a candle near the wall of the cavern not far from the table. Then Ranyaro lit a candle on the opposite side of the cavern. Then Mistaro took his glass and slowly and reverently drank from it. Then Ranyaro followed and did the same. It took them an hour to empty their glasses. When their glasses were empty, Mistaro took his harp and began to play a low tune that seemed to mingle with the reflections of the flames from the hearth upon the walls of the cave. His voice was pure and powerful, and echoed throughout the cave-system, becoming a multitude of voices beautiful and fairest of them all. Ranyaro gazed at him in awe, His voice sounds even more pure than that of Makalaure of old. Is he Daeron? Mistaro sang the following tune: ~There was a glade once good and fair~ ~A forest tall and raven hair~ ~That cascaded down her fair back~ ~That sparkled dark and fair and black~ ~Another came within the glade~ ~His face was worn, tired and sad~ ~To then make all the Eldar mad~ Mistaro stopped, "The name of Daeron is dead. He passed away long ago. He vanished into the East and dared not return. He was never..." Ranyaro smiled, "As you have said, he passed away long ago. He has faded by now, I would think. A sad story. But you are not Daeron..." Tears came out of Mistaro's eyes, and he and Ranyaro embraced each other deeply. They held each other close for a long time. Neither of them desired for their communion to end. Edited by Yucalwe, Sep 26 2015, 08:16 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Nov 5 2013, 11:54 AM Post #4 |
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Chapter IV: The Sea of Rhun Ranyaro and Mistaro walked deeper into the cavern. They climbed down to a cove within the cave. There was a boat tied to one of the rocks. There was room for two. "Whether you are Daeron or not, it no longer matters. What matters is that your voice is powerful and your life lived well," Ranyaro smiled. "That is all that matters," Mistaro replied. They emerged out into the inlet and into the light of the Sun. And Mistaro's silvery-blond hair gleamed brightly. Ranyaro smiled, for Mistaro's features reminded him of King Dior son of Beren. The Sea glimmered in the sunlight. Mistaro placed his arm around Ranyaro's shoulder, "This place is as it was ever meant to be. Untouched by the Enemy. I know not why the mortals who dwell upon its shores fall to his deceits so easily." Ranyaro nodded, but said nothing of the Noldor of Eregion. The salty air of the Sea came fresh into their nostrils. There were gulls flying overhead. Then, a Gondorian fishing-boat came into sight. The southern Gondorians varied in complexion. One of them wore an albatross around his neck. The dead bird hung there dangling. The fisherman sighed as other albatrosses flew by. Mistaro quickly redirected the boat into one of the low-lying clouds upon the waters of the Sea. Ranyaro helped him row away. The fishing boat was coming closer. They rowed as fast as the strength of their arms would bear them. The fishing boat was coming closer. Mistaro began to sing. Then the fishing boat stopped. It reversed course in fear of the spirit of the fog. Mistaro's voice brought flocks of albatrosses flying through the mist and out above the fishing boat. The Ship Captain was clearly frightened, and he clutched the albatross around his neck in shame. "That was close," Mistaro uttered. Ranyaro nodded in agreement. Then they sought the fish that swam in the Sea. Their boat was filled to the brim at sunset when they returned to the inlet and the cavern within. Edited by Yucalwe, Sep 26 2015, 08:17 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Nov 8 2013, 03:30 PM Post #5 |
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Chapter V: The Passage of Time Ranyaro remained with Mistaro for the next six years. He fished with him, and he loved the experiences that life had given unto him. Mistaro taught him many things, and even the ability to sing. They sang as the sun set and as the sun rose into the sky. As time wore on, Ranyaro began to tell Mistaro parts of his own life. Mistaro nodded at his account of the death of King Finwe, of his father's Vow, of the Kinslaying, and of his service as one of Himring's Seneschals. Mistaro closed his eyes into long memory: "I remember when I heard tale of you, son of Yuale. I recognized you the moment you arrived. I have but one question for you: Do you pity yourself?" Ranyaro solemnly bowed his head in shame, "I know that I should not. I should pity those who fell upon the battlefield, murdered by Noldorin blades! And the mothers and daughters, fathers and sons, who fell to our wickedness in Doriath!" Mistaro said nothing. Ranyaro closed his eyes. Mistaro laid his hands upon his shoulders: "Be released from your guilt and self-pity." Yucalwe opened his eyes, and Mistaro's face was beautiful to behold. Mistaro embraced him, and from Yucalwe Ranyaro's eyes came the tears of repentance. Then Mistaro took Ranyaro outside of the cavern, and into the light of the Sun. Ranyaro dove beneath the waves of the Sea and emerged in its bright surface. Ranyaro remained with him for several more months. One morning, Mistaro came upon Ranyaro gazing at maps. Mistaro smiled, "You cannot hide from destiny. You should return to the West where you belong. My heart was gladdened by your presence throughout these years. But the name of Daeron is dead. He passed away long ago. He vanished into the East and dared not return. He was never found again as he sang of his lost love, Luthien. "Will Daeron ever be found again?" "There is yet hope that he will be. And if I should fade before I find him, and hear great Mandos' Call, I will gladly hearken to it. For I will know that Daeron will be waiting there." "You remain as mysterious as when we first met. I thank you, Mistaro, for all of these long years. If you should be in Aman before I arrive.... I beg you to inform my soldiers of my deep regret." "Ranyaro, you will always have a home here in your time of greatest need. But it is my hope that you will cross the Sea. If the winds bring the daily catch as you say they will, then fear not, for you may find many brave former soldiers awaiting you in cheer upon the western shore. Namarie." And so it was that Ranyaro departed from Edhellond, for he reasoned that he could not sail West from there, and that he wished to find Himring, to behold the bastion of Maedhros once more, if it still existed. He decided not to follow the coasts directly, but to head north, around the Ered Nimrais, and then north through the Enedwaith, before turning northwest toward the Ered Luin. Edited by Yucalwe, Sep 26 2015, 08:19 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Nov 8 2013, 04:35 PM Post #6 |
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Chapter VI: The Waters of the Anduin Ranyaro passed out of Edhellond, and gazing one final glance back at the glimmering Sea, he turned away and passed into the watches of the night. He avoided the Gondorian encampments, and was robed in black. He passed as if a shade of shadow, but an inner light bloomed within his eyes. His path along the mountain roads was cold and wet. He packed away his cloak and continued on his journey. Edited by Yucalwe, Sep 26 2015, 08:20 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Nov 8 2013, 04:45 PM Post #7 |
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Chapter VII: Enedwaith Ranyaro crossed the southwestern flank of Calenardhon. He hunted in the wilderness nearest the White Mountains and he continued north. He washed his clothes in the flowing rivers that passed through the land, the Adorn and the Isen. His sword was sheathed once more, and he continued through the Enedwaith, and he thought of the many leagues he had traveled. Was it all in vain? A yearning continued to awaken within his heart. He longed to see Himring once more. He longed to set forth upon the plateau that was now an island. Then he would seek for the Straight Road into the West. And so it was that Ranyaro journeyed northwest, and followed the river in search for a ford. He avoided the bogs and fens, and came upon a great road, the Royal Road. And he passed through rocky canyons and vales, and found himself in the midst of vast plains between the hills to the west and the foothills of the Misty Mountains. And on one prominent hill there stood a great fortress, and in the midst of which was a tower. He looked at a sign, and read: "Harndirion." And he proceeded forward, and attempted to hide his passage by journeying along the hills. As he climbed a large hill that was northwest of Harndirion, he saw a glimmering pool down below, and the Moon was shining in the sky. The Stars were beautiful that night, and Ranyaro gazed up at them for some time. Then he looked down again at the pool, and saw the visage of a King carved into the stone of the cliff-wall beyond it. And his eyes noted something dark and hidden amongst the reeds and fens of the pool. He crept silently and cautiously, and found a disfigured form entangled in the reeds. Its features were near-unidentifiable, but he noticed hints of Elvishness. He remember back to his days as a healer. And he quickly sought aid from the guardians of the bridge encampment nearby. And for several long years, he aided Celendil, who finally gave a measure of purpose to his life. He would help her to find her lost identity. In the meanwhile, he was her caretaker, and more prominently was Iordreth, the healer of Harndirion, who Ranyaro would later describe as a 'father-figure' in remembrance of his relationship with Celendil. Edited by Yucalwe, Sep 26 2015, 08:21 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Nov 11 2013, 12:20 AM Post #8 |
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Chapter VIII: Minas Anor Iordreth desired to take Celendil and Ranyaro further into Gondor, for he had matters to attend to in Minas Anor. The journey was fair, but took many days. Flowing green fields and towering snow-capped mountain peaks surrounded by fragrant forests. Finally, they reached Anorien and came past the Druadain forest, and down into the Vale of the Anduin. Minas Anor was shining and towering. Its banners flowed in the morning breeze. Its horns sounded to greet the dawn. And on the seventh level, the Citadel Guards did not halt us, for all Elves were welcome in the House of Isildur. But Isildur himself was not there, and sad rumors were flowing from the North. Ranyaro stood and gazed across the Anduin Vale at Mordor. Memories flowed within his mind, solemn and sad. But the Sun flickered on Minas Ithil cross the Vale, and it was mostly hidden in its Vale. Ranyaro enjoyed the company of several Citadel Guards, who were clad in the garb of honorable Numenoreans. They shared tales of war and woe, and took comfort and pleasure in their mutual respect. But a shadow lingered in the heart of Ranyaro. On one of the nights, he dreamed a nightmare. An old foe, twisted and fell, came into his mind: Guldrambor, a fallen Maia whom he had battled in the First Age of Arda, in Beleriand so long ago. Sauron's demise left Mordor barren, and an open realm from the East. Guldrambor sensed his prey the moment he reentered eastern Gondor. Ranyaro awoke frightened and nervous. They left eastern Gondor not long afterwards, but Guldrambor followed him. Edited by Yucalwe, Sep 26 2015, 08:23 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Nov 11 2013, 12:25 AM Post #9 |
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Chapter IX: Fire at Harndirion Winter had come upon the vales and fields of the Enedwaith. The grass was covered by snowfall. Yrch from the north came south along the rivers, and assailed the Enedwaith. Guldrambor was aiding them. Ranyaro could sense it. There was blood and chaos on the fields, and on the ramparts of the fortress itself. Ranyaro felt a great fatigue come over him, and he was separated from Iordreth in the battle. He dazed into an Elvish sleep, and entered into a nightmare. He battled Guldrambor in his nightmarish vision on the plains of Mordor. He realized that he was dreaming, and that his own will-power alone could repel the evil. Guldrambor lost control, and Ranyaro awoke. The battle was long since over. Iordreth was dead and buried, and Celendil was gone. Ranyaro stood solemnly on the ramparts. He could almost hear Guldrambor in the back of his mind, threatening to follow and ruin Celendil, and all to ruin Ranyaro himself. Ranyaro was incensed. He would not let this happen. And so it was that Ranyaro departed from the Enedwaith, and came to the Gap of Calenardhon, and passed into the Light of the Sun as it rose over the furthest plains and hills. Edited by Yucalwe, Feb 5 2014, 01:27 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Nov 11 2013, 12:33 AM Post #10 |
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Chapter X: The Father and Son Several Elves of Imladris were scouring Eregion for relics. It had been several hundred years since the fall of that realm, but Lord Elrond did not wish any artifacts to be left in the wilderness where danger may yet possess them, or utilize their ways for fell purposes. Cullasson and Cullastor were two such Elves. The former was a Seneschal of Himring who served alongside Yucalwe and Aredhelon in Beleriand so long ago. Maedhros son of Feanor was once his Prince. Now he remained to serve Lord Elrond in the aftermath of Celebrimbor's demise in Eregion. Cullasson and Cullastor sensed that there was battle in the Enedwaith. They traveled into Fordirith, and gazed across the hills. They saw the aftermath of the battle. They drew forth their heavy cloaks of black velvet, and concealed themselves. They came to the bridge and few guards possessed the courage to speak to them. They learned of the Orc attack, and they learned of the presence of one of their own kindred at the battle. They were informed of Ranyaro's journey south, and deemed it wise to follow him. They came into the Gap of Calenardhon, and journeyed north into a fair vale of many trees. Isengard was the name of the fortress inside the vale. They found Ranyaro there, for he decided to rest before journeying further. The Men of Gondor were kind, and understood their purpose. Cullasson embraced Ranyaro upon seeing him, for they recognized each other from ages long since past. Cullastor smiled at their reunion. Ranyaro told the Elven father and son many tales of his life, and they listened with wonder and with sorrow. Then Cullasson told the tales of what had become of him since their parting in Beleriand. Ranyaro smiled. He was glad for Cullasson. They rested inside several high rooms of the Tower of Orthanc that night. Edited by Yucalwe, Feb 5 2014, 01:28 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Nov 11 2013, 08:51 PM Post #11 |
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Chapter XI: To Central Gondor At dawn, they departed from the Vale of Isengard, and continued on their way through Calenardhon. They crossed the River Isen, and gazing once more at Eriador, they passed away, vanishing into the Light of the Sun. They journeyed close to the Ered Nimrais, and made their way through the dense forests of the western fold of the region. They reached a pass that wove high into the mountains, and wild men inhabited them. They decided to avoid it, and continued through to the eastern fold of the region. Then they crossed the Mering Stream and entered into one of the more centralized regions of Gondor. Ranyaro beheld Minas Anor once again. His memories hearkened back to his previous journeys in sight of the White City of Gondor. It seemed fair, almost as if a mighty Queen, and the remnant of Numenor glistened in the morning sunlight. The three Elves decided to cross through the port city of Cair Andros, and then they would track their way through Ithilien. Ranyaro asked the Men if they heard rumor of an Elven maiden traveling throughout the region. They replied that rumors had come north from Osgiliath of one such maiden making her way toward Emyn Arnen. Ranyaro assumed it was Celendil. They came into a forest of pine and fir, and the aroma of the trees awoke their senses. It was a fragrant and fair-smelling land, and a pleasure to walk within its bounds. Birds chirped and sang. Bears hid themselves in their wild dens, and deer were prancing through the woods. Finally, they reached Osgiliath. Edited by Yucalwe, Feb 5 2014, 01:28 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Nov 11 2013, 08:59 PM Post #12 |
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Chapter XII: The Vale of the Anduin Osgiliath was a majestic city. It was the Seat of the King, and the Dome of the Palantir stood strong. Ranyaro remembered the Elder Days. He remembered when he once strode through halls of stone without strange eyes gazing upon him in loathing or fear. Few desired to speak with the three Elves, who were cloaked to the extent that only their chins remained visible. They were feared, and the Guardians of the City clasped the hilts of their swords. Deciding to withdraw, Ranyaro and the others reentered Ithilien and sought to approach Emyn Arnen from the East. When they arrived, Celendil was long gone. Ranyaro sought to leave the fearful eyes of Men behind. Then Ranyaro noticed a pass leading into Mordor above the Ithil Vale. No, Celendil, please do not.... They climbed the Straight Stair in the early evening. The Sun set beyond their sight as they entered the Winding Stair. By nightfall they reached a strange tunnel that was barring a portion of the pass. Edited by Yucalwe, Feb 5 2014, 01:28 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Nov 14 2013, 01:56 PM Post #13 |
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Chapter XIII: The Lair of Shelob The darkness of Guldrambor was felt heavily in the tunnel, for his agents had pursued Yucalwe. They had arrived at the tunnel in advance: several Gondorian spies. Other things were felt as well. Cullasson lost his glove when it became entangled in a throng of gigantic spider webs. They all drew their swords. They could sense two deadly foes awaiting them in the tunnel. Cullasson closed his eyes and felt conflict between them. With this, they continued through the darkness. The darkness was everywhere. They could not see their hands in front of their tightened faces in the shadows of the darkness. They saw a great shadow in the distance upon the left passageway at a fork in the tunnel. They ran to the right-side of the tunnel and continued to charge. Eventually, they reached the Pass of Cirith Ungol, and chopped their way through the webs that barred their passage. They ran along the pass and the abyss yawned with terror to their right. The darkness continued to advance. It was as if the battle between the foes was near to completion. They hid themselves from the Gondorians who were guarding Cirith Ungol, and a shadow whipped past them as if a great and terrible wind. It was filled with malice and fear entered into their hearts. Ranyaro knew instinctively who it was, and a cry of terror leaped within his heart for the one he now long sought: CELENDIL! Ranyaro left the other two Elves to travel slowly behind him in order to guard the rear. Ranyaro ran to the Gates of Cirith Ungol and offered a coin with an ancient sigil of Finwe in exchange for a horse. The Guard was astounded, and the exchange was made. Then Ranyaro sped away as he chased the shadow. Edited by Yucalwe, Sep 26 2015, 08:24 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Nov 14 2013, 02:04 PM Post #14 |
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Chapter XIV: The Morkai, Gorgoroth, and Orodruin Ranyaro charged across the steppes of the Morkai, and searched for a way to cross the trench to his right. He was traveling northward, and he needed to travel northeast. There was ash, smoke, and dust everywhere, and not even a stream was running through it. But he found one tiny flowing creek, a tributary of the Sea of Nurn, and a last gasp of hope in a land of waste. A kingfisher was swimming through it, and Ranyaro paused. He was growing hungry. He caught the kingfisher and swiftly killed it. Then he cleaned it with his knife. There were thickets nearby, and he gathered the reeds together for a fire. It did not take long for a fire to start in that ashen land. He sat down and cooked the fish. It took several hours, and then he ate it. He hoped the others had received supplies from Cirith Ungol. Then Ranyaro remounted his steed, and continued to charge. His journey had taken him several days. He was thirsty. He was famished. And he was tired. But he remained strong. Nigh the Isenmouthe he found a break in the trench, and then sped off towards Orodruin, which was now dormant. He charged toward its Gate, and passed up the winding path. Then he dismounted and tied his steed to a nearby rock. He charged into the cavern with his sword drawn. Even in the pitch blackness of Mount Doom, he saw the outline of Guldrambor, who laughed wickedly. Guldrambor entranced Ranyaro in a dream, and he saw the cavern aflame. Maedhros son of Feanor stood at its brink, and he was weeping. Ranyaro pressed forward to embrace him, and he closed his eyes as they embraced. Then he was falling into the abyss and the flames of the Mountain yawned wide beneath him. Swiftly, he willed himself out of the trance, and found Guldrambor had taken a physical form. He stood face to face with an Easterling, but the eyes of Guldrambor burned within him. They dueled backward and down into the plains. Edited by Yucalwe, Sep 26 2015, 09:08 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Nov 17 2013, 05:59 PM Post #15 |
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Chapter XV: The Battle of Gorgoroth Ranyaro struck against Guldrambor, but Guldrambor parried in return. The battle swept the dust of the plains into clouds, and the fierceness of their fighting grew. Cullasson and Cullastor finally arrived and began to engage Guldrambor in battle. The conflict threatened to overwhelm them. Guldrambor continued uttering foul phrases in the Black Speech. It seemed the land itself was beginning to war against them. Then a great ash-storm of sand and dust was surging toward them from the East. Guldrambor laughed as it approached and continued to hold them in battle. Guldrambor unleashed his visions. And Ranyaro cowered as he found himself fighting Macil, his brightest pupil and adopted son, who was once Rostor of Gondolin. The storm reached and surrounded them in its fury. Guldrambor vanished and the others road swiftly away regardless of direction. They continued swiftly through the storm and continued onward, and hid their faces in their cloaks. Eventually they departed from the storm, and Guldrambor was nowhere to be found. They had journeyed north again, and then west, and they passed through the Black Gate. They crossed north of the Marshes, and then they crossed the Anduin at the Undeeps, and Yucalwe had a special reunion with his Silvan friends near Lorien. After resting there for a month, they crossed Caradhras, and so came into Eregion, where they found Ioristion and Melimwe. They came into the vale of Imladris, and eventually, to Amon Sul, where Yucalwe gazed into the Palantir, finding visions of Celendil in the south again. Yucalwe began his long return journey to Gondor, he found no signs of Celendil in Emyn Arnen, and after various private displays of wrathful rage, he decided to return to his old home in Edhellond. Epilogue to Part I And Yucalwe continued to dwell in the furnished cave that once belonged to Mistaro. He seldom visited the port of Edhellond, and, therefore, was completely unaware of the end of its existence and identity as a port of Elves. He fished near his cave and remained rooted in his place, save for when he journeyed south, hooded and cloaked, through Belfalas and then Lebennin, and even into Harondor and beyond, in search of Guldrambor. For he sought to bring a final end to that gravest of threats. Edited by Yucalwe, Sep 26 2015, 09:09 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Feb 5 2014, 01:20 PM Post #16 |
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Part II: The Last Guardians of Finwe Prologue- The Wastes of Harad and Umbar A wind sifts through the South. The desert sands billow into dunes. The passage of a soft foot. The rustle of the multitude of grains. Long did Ranyaro battle the Black Numenoreans and their leader, Guldrambor. Long did Guldrambor vanish into the shadows of the East. The Castamir uprising rose and fell. Umbar fell into Gondorian hands to and fro as the sands blow. But Ranyaro fought only subtly, and ne'r in the open light of the Sun. Centuries passed, and the Third Age pressed onward. A boy was traveling to collect water in the realm of Saraj. He looked up, and beheld a lonesome Elf playing his harp. The boy seemed frightened, but the Elf soothed him with his voice. "Both of us dwell in the shadows," the strange Elf spoke. "What is your name?" The boy muttered his name, "Abrazan..." Ranyaro smiled, "You may call me Wanderer, Abrazan. Where are your kindred?" The boy seemed frightened, "Our village was....was..." Ranyaro ran over the rise and beheld a ruined mass of burning huts. "Child... come with me. For the Stars of fate have smiled upon you." If the boy was last seen by any, he would have passed away along the shores of the Sea hand-in-hand with a wandering Elf. Edited by Yucalwe, Feb 5 2014, 01:23 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Feb 5 2014, 01:20 PM Post #17 |
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Chapter I: A Haradric Boy in Gondor The Sun shined above the caverns below the cliffs nigh the Sea-Gate near Dol Amroth. For Ranyaro's purposes, Abrazan was trained both physically and mentally. He became well-learned. In the child's thirteenth year of age, Ranyaro took him into the streets of the city of Dol Amroth There were many dark-skinned southern Gondorian traders going to and fro throughout the streets. Abrazan did not feel out of place. They looked into various shops. Ranyaro himself was hooded, and his face was covered. His hood draped below his eyes so as to conceal them. Ranyaro fed and raised the child. Abrazan and Ranyaro fished in the Bay of Belfalas. Ranyaro continued to live as Mistaro taught him. In time, Abrazan had grown into a young adolescent. "Why do we fish and drink wine every day?" "Because, young one, it is how to live rightly." "I do not understand, Ada." "I will tell you a tale. There was once a beautiful Sinda named Mistaro. His hair was of a bright silver-hue, and his voice more beautiful than the gulls. His face was beaming bright in the light of the morning sun. I was greatly hurt long ago, and he aided me. He taught me these ways, to give meaning to life once more. I have taught you these ways, that your life may have meaning always." "Is life meaningless without these ways?" "No, Abrazan. It is full of meaning always. But without these ways, it can be harsh... cruel... cold." "If those things have meaning, should not one endure them?" "One should, but one must not seek them. They will come on their own accord. One must be ready for when they arrive." "My village... I was not ready..." "That was among the cruelest crimes of them all, my son." "I am a mortal, and you are immortal. Why do you seek to raise me as your son?" "Because it is my belief... never you mind. All things shall be revealed in their time." "Err...... very well, Ada." "You must not love me, child." "Why not?" "Because we will be severed forever. Our destinies are fated to part eternally." "Do not men and elves go to the same place?" "At the end of time, it is said..." "Then we are not fated to part forever. Just for a very long time..." "Oh Abrazan....." Abrazan was a keen child. He was intelligent, and quick to question. He was a natural-born philosopher. His questions flattered the heart of Ranyaro. Never had he seen a mortal so eager to learn before. Yet the gnawing reality came upon his heart at night: his life would be a breath in the immortality of his own. Still, they would meet again, in the Second Music.... if his Vow was fulfilled.... Edited by Yucalwe, Sep 26 2015, 08:39 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Feb 5 2014, 01:21 PM Post #18 |
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Chapter II: Memories of the Past Ranyaro sat with Abrazan after the daily catch. "Ada, what were you doing before you found me? What brought you so far south?" "You do not desire to know, Abrazan." "If there is something that brought you..." "There was. I do not desire that you become involved in this." "With what?" "I will say that I hunted a great evil, and lost the trail. An evil adversary of mine. Ancient and accursed. He has the power to invade one's mind, and drive one to performing terrible deeds. I will not say his name. We should not beckon him." "That is terrifying! To where did you last track him?" "I chased him along the River Harnen, but he vanished into the Mountains of Shadow. There were already grave evils there, and I was forced to retreat. I fought many of his forces throughout the centuries. Immortality is not all that it seems, Abrazan. An early death is a gift. You do not have ancient oaths or vows hounding you for millennium. You do not have to worry about such things. Men live and pass away as if a breath in the life of we Eldar. And yet, it is a gift. You do not have thousands of years to risk committing, or being entangled within, fell and wicked deeds. As we were." "Tell me the tales of the ancient days. I long to hear them, Ada!" "Very well." And so it was that Ranyaro revealed his own identity, his long litany of crimes and failures, his battles great and glorious, and his grievous defeats. He learned of his vow and of everything else. He and Abrazan wept for some time. "I will not leave you, Ada. There is hope yet. Can you not see it? Defeating your foe is the fulfillment of your Vow!" "I cannot determine how I shall defeat him." "I take upon me this oath-" "NO! BE SILENT!" Ranyaro drew himself to a terrible height, and Abrazan quickly kept saying, "I take it back! I take it back! I do not take any oath! I take it back!" "Never do that again, my son. It will destroy you if you do! This is my foe, and my foe alone. I am sorry. I should not have uttered a since word of it. Alas, the Curse haunts me still." "I believe we can control our own destinies." "If we can, then taking oaths is not the way to do it. The oath controls you, and not you the oath. Remember this. To give a lesser-word, one without dire consequences, is one thing. To take an oath or vow is another. They remain forevermore until fulfilled or broken. It might be unfulfillable, or unbreakable. You are not to do this. If you must, do it to aid in the fulfillment my Vow, but without the swearing. Give unto yourself the option to leave if you must. I do not have the ability to decide either way. Do not remove from yourself that ability! It is precious..." Abrazan nodded, and they embraced. "Oh Abrazan... I do not regret finding you for a moment. My life was lonely until we found each other." Abrazan smiled, "We both live under a curse. Your past and my heritage. We both dwell within the Shadow of the Enemy. And yet... I will choose to have hope." And Ranyaro smiled. Edited by Yucalwe, Feb 5 2014, 05:47 PM.
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| Yucalwe | Feb 5 2014, 09:13 PM Post #19 |
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Flashback: The Hunt for Guldrambor Upon that same evening, Ranyaro withdrew into himself and remembered the past. He was running. The brush of Ithilien surrounded him. His quarry was near. He could feel it. A shadow passed through the grass. He stood still. The grass swayed in the wind. He could hear the wind rustling the leaves in the trees. The light of the moon dimmed the color of the leaves. It was coming near. Ranyaro moved even more swiftly. His quarry was approaching. His foul voice echoed in the wind. Ranyaro shuddered to hear it once again. He drew his sword and continued with caution. This would be a difficult foe. "Thou canst not win..." Ranyaro continued carefully through the brush. The shadows of night would have hidden much to the eyes of a mortal man. But Ranyaro was of the Eldar. He could see at once in both worlds. And there he saw movement. His foe approached. He was standing face to face with Morgoth. The intensity of his mind burned as if with a bright flame. Ranyaro's will-power strove with the demon. Finally, he reduced Morgoth into Guldrambor himself, and nearly took control of the vision. Then Guldrambor vanished. Ranyaro continued to give chase. He tripped on a tree-root in his haste. When he stood once again, he could no longer see his quarry. Yet he felt the darkness and shadow moving steadily south. He followed. He awoke the next morning to find it was all a nightmare, stirred by his own mind. Edited by Yucalwe, Sep 26 2015, 08:40 PM.
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| Findekano | Feb 12 2014, 07:34 AM Post #20 |
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Chapter III: Ruminations in Exile In Eregion there is a ruined fortress. A fortress known as Minas Elendur. It was lost to time. Hidden in that fortress were several ceremonial Staffs of Rule. For Eregion was the last stronghold of the Noldor in Arda. They loved and maintained their history. Yet there was something they did not know. Hidden deep beneath the lowest vaults were hidden chambers. Shafts had been cut to bring forth the light of the Sun into dark places. The chamber was marked by shafts of light. The vaults were hidden behind the shafts. There were staffs of Feanaro, Maitimo, Macalaure, Findekano, and the governing Staff of Celebrimbor. The Staff of Turgon was lost when Gondolin fell. The Staff of Gil-galad was never restored lest it be buried beneath the ashes of Mordor. The vaults could only be opened by hidden words, words that remain unknown, and words that may yet be spoken. |
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