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Thread: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1 [UPDATE - 13/12/2020]

  1. #41
    NorseThing's Avatar Primicerius
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    I can certainly understand wanting clear pictures and night screenies clean up of day turned into night by software is certainly beyond my abilities. I did like the first two pictures and wished I even knew how to get clean clear shots like those. Do not apologize -- you are keeping my interest and doing so with much greater skill than I could manage with my screenies in my AAR. Great job and keep up the great work!

  2. #42
    Turkafinwë's Avatar The Sick Baby Jester
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    Quote Originally Posted by NorseThing View Post
    I can certainly understand wanting clear pictures and night screenies clean up of day turned into night by software is certainly beyond my abilities. I did like the first two pictures and wished I even knew how to get clean clear shots like those. Do not apologize -- you are keeping my interest and doing so with much greater skill than I could manage with my screenies in my AAR. Great job and keep up the great work!

    I thank you for the praising words. I can't even begin to wonder how to adapt the pictures for the circumstances I want in my story. That is beyond my basic level photoshop skills. As for the clean shots, I do use a reshader program to enhance the in-game looks. Also I don't know if you know this but if you push the scroll lock button your UI disappears making screenshots that much better. I take a lot of them and sometimes, accidentally, you get beautiful things.

    Again I thank you for your kind words and for your continuing support!

  3. #43
    NorseThing's Avatar Primicerius
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    Thanks for the hint, but I am a bit of a blockhead. I guess experimentation will answer it for me though! Thanks.

  4. #44
    Alwyn's Avatar Frothy Goodness
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    Great update, I particularly like the way that you show us Araphor's reaction to his fighting prowess and his loss of men - and the screenshots are well done.

  5. #45
    Turkafinwë's Avatar The Sick Baby Jester
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    Quote Originally Posted by NorseThing View Post
    Thanks for the hint, but I am a bit of a blockhead. I guess experimentation will answer it for me though! Thanks.
    No problem. Always glad to help a fellow man.

    Quote Originally Posted by Alwyn View Post
    Great update, I particularly like the way that you show us Araphor's reaction to his fighting prowess and his loss of men - and the screenshots are well done.
    Thank you, thank you and thank you! First I wanted to let him have a mighty warhammer with which he could smash all his enemies. But I ultimately decided against it and thought that Araphor would rather be this cool graceful killer without remorse. Glad you liked it.

  6. #46
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    Book I, Chapter XIV: The Battle for Deadman's Dike
    Summer 2998 TA: Northern Downs, Fornost



    The Orcs had made camp in front of the once great gate of Fornost. The noise from their feasting could be heard within the walls of the fortress, the light of their fires visible from the battlements. Orc sentries were placed outside the camp watching the ruined front gate and walls. But the Orcs' encirclement was not complete and parts of the eastern and western wall were unguarded, for the Orcs thought the Dúnedain would never sally out. In this they couldn't have been more wrong. It was near the breaking of dawn, a terrible moment for the Orcs, that Aragorn sent some cavalry archers out of the city towards the flanks of the Orc camp. Once in position they waited for the rangers to take in their hidden position. When all the forces were ready, a fire arrow was shot into the sky as a signal for the scouts to start harassing the Orcs. Arrows flew from all directions into the camp where Orcs lay in a stupor from the night before. Confusion reigned and it was only after a while that the Thrall masters took control over their rabble. The Orc and Rhudaur legions were slow to form up and one by one each regiment started pouring out of the camp. One of the scout groups was to lure part of the enemy army towards the gate while the other companies scattered in all directions. The plan was a huge success and the Orcs were lured into the prepared ambush.

    Halbarad held the center with steelbowmen while Aragorn was in one of the scouting companies harassing the enemy. Hirvegil was in charge of the ambush with most of the rangers and archer companies. Once the enemy saw Halbarad standing defiantly at the entrance of the gate they rushed forwards to meet him. This had, of course, been the plan all along. Once they were trapped between the walls guarding the gate, hundreds of archers leapt out of hiding and unleashed a flurry of arrows into the foe's ranks. It was a complete slaughter, but less forces had been lured in the trap than the Dúnedain had hoped for and now their cover was blown. The main army had formed up and started marching towards the gate in good order, their chants meant to frighten the enemy as well as to keep rythmn in their advance. Halbarad had command over the overall forces in Aragorn's absence.

    “HIRVEGIL!” Halbarad shouted

    “I'm here” came the answer from the wall.

    “Get your men down here, the enemy is advancing and we must meet them. They must not enter the city!” Halbarad cried.

    The citizens were still inside the ancient fortress and no harm should come to them. Halbarad put the rangers and archers in one big line in front of the gate with infantry hiding in the long grass just inches before the archer line. That way the archers could shoot as many arrows as possible before the melee started. Two regiments of Cardolani cavalry were waiting in the city. Once the melee had started they would have to go outside and charge the legions of Angmar in the rear. The lines had formed and Halbarad gave them their orders.

    “The first time we will shoot in unison, after that just shoot as many arrows as you can. Focus on those nasty pikemen from Rhudaur.” he explained

    “Do not hesitate because they are men.” he roared at them.

    “They have sided with the enemy and will not hesitate to kill you. They have dined with Orcs and are corrupted by their greed and hatred.” his voice rang over the battlefield.

    “So now brave Dúnedain, NOCK!” arrows were strung on bows.

    “AIM!” the bows rose.

    “LOOSE!”



    Hundreds of arrows flew into the sky as the first rays of the sun pierced the misty haze of the summer morning. There was a moment when all seemed silent while the arrows flew through the sky. Then the screaming began. Man and Orc alike fell down with arrows sticking out from their bodies. Blood sprayed where arrows embedded themselves into flesh. Those who did not die from the arrow were crushed by the boots of their comrades as they marched on. The Angmarim were closing in, seriously diminished in strength. The Cardolani swordsmen, masters of hiding on open ground, rose from their hidden position and charged the enemy line. Many Orcs fled from the shock alone and were caught by arrows in the back or by the galloping hooves of the Cardolani horsemen as they charged the enemies' rear. Panic spred quickly among their ranks and the Orcs, cowardly in nature, were the first to run. The men of Rhudaur were made of tougher stuff it seemed. Completely surrounded they did not run nor did they surrender. They fought till their last breath for the Iron Crown.



    The Orc commander saw this all happening from the back lines and knew he had lost the battle. He had lost it as soon as his forces had set a foot out of their camp. Shagûl was his name and he was fuming with rage. He killed every Orc he saw running from the battlefield as punishment.

    The Tarks have won this time, were his thoughts when he saw his entire line break.

    “Make ready to run for your lives, maggots.” he said to his retinue.

    He turned round and started fleeing back north.

    Agandaûr is not going to be pleased, his inner voice said.

    Maybe I should flee to the Misty Mountains, towards Gundabad. A lot of my kin lives there and I won't stand out much there.

    Shagûl had decided, let this Man fight his war against the Tarks. He was a Tark himself; this Agandaûr; as far as the Orcs were concerned. He had one day just shown up in Carn Dûm and demanded the allegiance of the Orc tribes of the north. All who refused had been slaughtered so they hadn't had much choice in the matter. The Orc tribes had little love for Sauron's puppet nor was there great love between themselves. The tribes had been warring with one another since the fall of Angmar when it had been led by the Witch King. Shagûl started running but did not get very far as he was waylaid by Aragorn himself, slashing around with his sword Andúril. The invasion forces had been crushed and Aragorn had won the battle.




    A couple of days after this great victory, a messenger came riding from the west. He brought terrible news. The Western Angmarim army had not moved towards the Blue Mountains but had turned south and had entered Númeriador. They had ravaged the countryside and were now laying siege to Ost Gelon. Aragorn swiftly assembled a fighting force led by Hirvegil to deal with the Angmarim at Ost Gelon. Merely five days after the victory at Fornost did Hirvegil leave for the west to relieve the siege of Ost Gelon.

    Better news came from the south heralding the victory Araphor had won at Amon Sûl. The messenger also told Aragorn that Araphor had marched away from Amon Sûl and had left his young ward, Damrod, second son of Halbarad in charge of the supplying duties. Damrod was not yet of age, although that would only be a year away from now. The messenger told them Araphor was going to station himself in the hills of the Northern Downs, northwest of Fornost. From there he would be able to intercept any hostile force before it could enter their territory. He was however ambushed on his way north by a band of Orcs who were lurking in the forest on the border with the Bree-land. The Orcs were massacred with ease and Araphor continued his march towards the hills of the Northern Downs.


    As for Hirvegil, he did not reach Ost Gelon in time for he had been delayed by incursions from Angmar into the Hills of Evendim. And it was only until the winter of 2998 that he finally could set his sights again on Ost Gelon. However the Orcs had already assaulted the town and had won. The small garrison under Captain Duraleth fought bravely but had been outnumbered 10 to 1. The populace was either killed or enslaved by the Orcs but as they were feasting a new threat loomed over the horizon.

    Battle results
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 




    Last edited by Turkafinwë; March 18, 2020 at 08:13 AM. Reason: Change of Layout/minor changes/fixing spelling mistakes

  7. #47
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    well well keep up your epic descriptions here they are almost like pictures in word form
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  8. #48
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    Book I, Chapter XV: The Dwarves
    Early Spring 2999 TA: Eastern Númeriador, Ost Gelon

    Banners of blue and gold could be seen on the horizon, their warriors' armour glistening in the rays of the sun. Axes they wielded and their finest warriors wore masks, terrible to behold. Small of stature they were and slow was their advance but here they were. The Dwarves had finally come. These were the descendants of Nogrod and Belegost, the Dwarves of the Clans of the Firebeards and the Broadbeams. Some Longbeards still remained in the Blue Mountains but most of them had gone with their kin after the victory at the Battle of Five Armies, to live in the restored Kingdom Under the Mountain. The Dwarves of Ered Luin had long since isolated themselves from the dealings of the world. They had busied themselves expanding their halls and mining the riches of the mountains. That had all changed with the arrival of Hirvegil some years prior. Hirvegil had come as an emissary of Aragorn who had wished an alliance between the Dúnedain and the Dwarves against Angmar. He had been welcomed by the Clanlord Gor, of the Firebeard clan, the most numerous of the two inhabiting the western mansions of the Dwarves. Long had been the negotiations between Hirvegil and Gor but finally after much arguing about the terms, a treaty was formed. The terms of this treaty were the following.



    Hirvegil had shown his skills in diplomacy by gaining terms like not harming human populaces in captured settlements and the sacking of cities only of Orcish origin. These had been countered by more demands of the Dwarves such as the surrendering of Dwarven treasures found in enemy lands. Gor drove a hard bargain and was often too stubborn to change his mind. Hirvegil thought he could sooner move a mountain from its place for the distance of one thumb than to change a Dwarf his mind. Finally the treaty was signed and Hirvegil returned home while Gor and his people prepared for war. Many years it took but now they had arrived on the front line.

    It was but an expeditionary force led by a captain named Darîm. Darîm was to secure the region of Eastern Númeriador while the main army, under Clanherald Gráin advanced into Oiolad. They had recieved news that the town of Ost Gelon had fallen to Angmarim forces not so long ago. Darîm had but a small force at his disposal but Dwarves are hardy and formidable fighters. Darîm encircled the town and set up his siege camp. Two weeks into the siege he recieved a message from a human messenger. A Dúnadan. He was from the man called Hirvegil and Darîm remembered him well for he had been the sentry when the Dúnadan had arrived at Thorin's Halls. The messenger beared great news.

    “To the honourable commander of the Dwarves, I must inform you that my chief, Hirvegil, is but a week's march from Ost Gelon. If you would delay your assault we could consult with one another and take on the Angmarim together. Let this be the first of many cooperations against our common foe. What say you?” the messenger proclaimed, awaiting an answer.

    Darîm took this opportunity of strengthening the alliance with the Dúnedain. He for one was happy to aid the Free Peoples in their strife instead of isolating themselves in the mountains. There was a faction within the realm of Ered Luin that advocated the breaking of their isolation, but it was a very small one so it never had anything to say in the Council.

    “Send word to your chief that we accept his generous offer. We shall await his arrival with pleasure. Tell him the ale will be cold and the meat warm upon his arrival.” Darîm said on which the messenger turned his horse back the way he came from.





    A week later Hirvegil arrived at the Dwarven siege camp where he met with Captain Darîm. He had left his force out the sight of the town and had come alone with merely 2 bodyguards. Darîm greeted him like meeting an old friend.

    “Welcome chief of the Dúnedain, I am Darîm and well met again I might add.” he said

    “Yes indeed Darîm, we met at the gates of Thorin's Halls some years prior. How could I forget the Dwarf who almost speared me to death.” Hirvegil said chuckling while taking Darîm's wrist. Darîm was unabashed by this statement and smilingly took the wrist of Hirvegil.

    “Come, Dúnadan and enjoy good ale that only the Dwarves can brew, while we discuss our further actions against the filth that occupies this town.” Darîm beckoned Hirvegil to come further into the camp. Darîm tapped two pints from a keg of dark brown beer and gave one to Hirvegil. They clanked their tankards against each other and took a big sip. Where Darîm sighed in relief, Hirvegil had to contain himself not to choke on the strong brew. It burned in his throat and the Dwarves apparantly knew this by the glint in their eyes and the smiles on their faces. His eyes had watered a bit and his head had turned scarlet red.

    “A bit strong for the tall human?” one of the Dwarves mockingly asked. All the Dwarves howled with laughter. Hirvegil was not insulted by this but rather touched as this meant he was not seen as some foreigner come to interfere, but rather as a friend and ally. Darîm roared for silence and turned to Hirvegil, who at this point had unsuccessfully tried to get rid of his beer.

    “Your troops are most welcome Dúnadan for as you can see, my company is not very large.” he said. At this multiple Dwarves jeered.

    “However I already have a plan. Will you listen to it Dúnadan and give your opinion on it?” Darîm asked.

    “You are a strange Dwarf, Darîm, for never in my life have I had a Dwarf ask my opinion about anything.” Hirvegil said surprised.

    “I asked your opinion, but that doesn't mean I will do anything with it.” Darîm said to the amusement of his Dwarves.

    “The plan is the following. Tomorrow I will attack the north side of the city by nightfall. I will draw all the Orcs to the north side of town. Once they are locked in combat with my fellow Dwarves, you will infiltrate the city from the south side and attack the enemy from the rear. Between the two of us we will crush these filthy curs.” Darîm wrenched his hands in glee, already imagining smashing some orc skulls with his hammers.

    “What do you say Dúnadan?” His voice implied there was nothing wrong with his strategy and he dared Hirvegil to counter it. But Hirvegil did no such thing as he had deviced a similar plan only with the roles reversed. He did not say this of course but just confirmed that Darîm's plan was excellent.

    “It is a sound plan and should utterly take the Orcs unawares.” Hirvegil said.

    “I will take my men south behind that ridge” he said pointing to a nearby hill “so the Orcs are unaware of our presence and set up camp there. The only thing that remains is, what will be the signal for my men to join the battle?” the man asked.

    “My lieutenant shall blow three long tones on this horn.” Darîm said showing the battle horn.

    “Like this.” he said as he blew it.

    “Very well then, I shall leave you now and we will meet again after the battle. A toast for the Khazâd-Dúnedain alliance!” Hirvegil pronounced raising his tankard.

    “For victory or Death!” Darîm and his fellow Dwarves replied.

    They all took a swig from their tankards. Hirvegil noticed too late he still had the strong brew in his hand. While his throat burned he made a mental note as the Dwarves were laughing their hats off once again.

    I really should be more careful around these Dwarves, he thought with watery eyes.
    Last edited by Turkafinwë; March 18, 2020 at 08:24 AM. Reason: Change of Layout/minor changes/fixing spelling mistakes

  9. #49
    Alwyn's Avatar Frothy Goodness
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    Great chapters! Your images - the map in the previous chapter and the treaty in the latest update - are impressive. It sounds like Hirvegil has made an important alliance. I hope that he will have a clear head in battle after that strong brew!

  10. #50
    Turkafinwë's Avatar The Sick Baby Jester
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    Quote Originally Posted by Alwyn View Post
    Great chapters! Your images - the map in the previous chapter and the treaty in the latest update - are impressive. It sounds like Hirvegil has made an important alliance. I hope that he will have a clear head in battle after that strong brew!
    Much appreciated! Glad you like the efforts I have put into making the maps and treaty. It seems Hirvegil was the right man for the task and indeed let's hope he has recovered from his traumatic experience with Dwarven ale.

    Book I, Chapter XVI: A Smouldering Fire
    Winter 2999 TA: Swanfleet, Tharbad.

    It was in the early Spring on the 5th of Gwaeron, 2999 of the Third Age that Aglardis, daughter and first child of Eldarion and Elenien was born. The birth of his child had halted his campaign against the Wildmen as well as Gandalf's arrival had done. Not soon after the victory in Tharbad did he arrive and he had had a lengthy discussion with Eldarion. Hard words had been thrown between the two and shouting could often be heard from the main hall. After much arguing Eldarion had agreed to Gandalf's terms and the discussion had been ended. He would not go to war until the birth of his child. And now she was here, little Aglardis. Dark hair she had and grey eyes, in true Númenórean fashion. Eldarion fell in love with her the moment he first saw her. He loved her so that he posponed his plans for his offensive against the Dunlendings to an unknown date. Many said this had been the work of Elenien but that was not entirely true. Yes she had suggested that he stayed home and take joint care of the baby and be a family. In love with his child and wife he had agreed to stay home, at least for a while. Thus Elenien and Gandalf were content for now, because they knew of the fiery nature of Eldarion's character. Although quenched for the moment, it was smouldering within and would one day flare up again. His fire would be tested soon enough.

    It was in the Winter of that same year that the Dunlendings under their Huntmaster, the heir to the Dunlending chiefdom, laid siege to Tharbad. With reinforcements coming from the northern side of the city, Eldarion sallied from the city and soundly defeated the Dunlendings. He also captured the Dunlending Huntmaster, that had been his explicit wish. Now the Dunlending was brought chained before him. Fiönghan was his name and he was a rather short man with dark hair and dark eyes. His greasy hair was clotted with blood. Fiöghan was pushed down on his knees before the vengeful Dúnadan.

    Eldarion took great pleasure in looking down on the Chieftains' son. He decided to pester the man.

    “I will talk slowly so you can understand what I'm saying. You Wildmen do speak the Common Tongue right?.” he said slowly and over annunciating every word as if talking to a child. Fiönghan's face reddened in anger. Eldarion grinned wolfishly.

    “I must say Thion your men die easy on Númenórean steel. Was it your plan to massacre all your men? If so you did a great job.” Eldarion said still with a grin on his face. He had bastardized his name on purpose to rile him. It seemed to work for Fiönghan struggled to get near his tormentor.

    “What did you think you could accomplish by attacking us? Did you think you could beat us?” Eldarion's voice rose in volume, striding towards his captive.

    “Did you think you ever stood a chance against the might of the Dúnedain. You a folk who have not developed any further than when the Númenóreans found you in your hovels in the Second Age.” he sneered at him, towering over his captive.

    “No you will never beat us and you must rejoice in the fact that we do not bother ourselves with wiping out your entire race from this Earth.” he cried. Suddenly his voice became a whisper as he neared Fiönghan. Eldarion put his mouth right next to his ear and said.

    “Your people will rue the day they ever set foot on this world for I will be your bane. Your people will call me the Terror from the North after I'm done with them.” This was too much for the Dunlending Heir and he cried that he challenged Eldarion to a duel, if he dared.

    “I would have let you go but now you leave me with no choice. You have just sentenced yourself to death. I accept your challenge!” Eldarion shouted.

    “What are your terms Dunlending? How does your people duel?”

    Fiönghan answered without hesitation.

    “We strip down to our undergarments and we wrestle in a drawn circle. The first one to push the other out of the circle wins.” Eldarion was not impressed, but then again what did he expect from savages.

    “What do you want if you win? Your freedom?” Eldarion asked the Wildman.

    “Why should you hold to your end of the bargain? Why should I trust you in this?” Fiönghan retorted.

    “Because I am above all else a man of my word, and I take great pride in it.” Eldarion replied.

    “So what do you want from me if you manage to beat me?” he asked again.

    “I care nought for my freedom. If I win you must promise to leave my people alone and if you would release me I will convince my father Tharbad is not worth it and we will cease expanding north.” Fiönghan said. Eldarion thought about this and knew that if he lost all his dreams of destroying the Dunlending menace would be over. Eventually he accepted convinced he would win.

    “Very well.” he simply said.

    A circle was drawn outside the city and all the people had come to see the fight. Eldarion had become very serious now and did not waste energy pestering his opponent. He even had a flicker of admiration looking at the Dunlending's stoney face, which totally caught him offguard. The man seemed not to care for his situation. He probably thought his fate was to die today whether he won or not. Little did he know that Eldarion really was a man of his word and would not harm him if he won, though it would enrage him. Still imagined or not it was something to admire, Eldarion thought, though strange it sounded to him that he admired a Wildmen for anything at all. The referee was already shouting at him while he had been lost in thought.

    “Are you ready Ranger-Captain Eldarion!” he cried.

    “Yes, I am.” Eldarion replied.

    “Are you ready Dunlending!” he cried once more.

    “I am.” Fiönghan replied.

    “Then I declare this fight opened.” the referee shouted.

    They began by circling one another. The grey eyes watched the dark eyes as they circled and circled and circled round. Suddenly they darted forwards and grabbed each others arms and pushed. It was a brawl based purely on strength. The Dunlending's body was slippery and Eldarion could not get a good grip on him. They released each other and began circling again. Eldarion thought he saw a opening and went for the Dunlending's legs. He was fooled by the savage who dodged the young Dúnadan and Eldarion almost fell out of the ring. He regained himself and they circled once more. His heart was pounding fiercely coming so close to defeat in such a fashion. He was still a young man of 19 years old while his opponent was in his early thirties. He would have to find another way of defeating his enemy than pure strength. Still they circled staring into each others' eyes. Eldarion saw a glint in his adversaries eye and knew the time had come. The Dunlending tried to punch him and it was then when he took his chance. He grabbed the man's wrist with his left hand, put his feet between those of his opponent and turned 180 degrees. He pulled the arm downward over his shoulder and threw the man over it out of the ring. A roar erupted from the crowd. Eldarion had won the fight and everyone was dancing with joy. Eldarion cheered at the crowd and started walking towards his opponent. The man had fought bravely and had earned a bit of Eldarion's respect. If there was anything Eldarion respected it was strength, both of body and of mind. Upon closer inspection they saw that the man was dead. He had fallen on his head and had broken his neck in the process. A sudden sadness came over Eldarion, one he didn't understand. Why was he not happy that he had defeated the man who had threatened his family and people. Eldarion shook his head as if to shake the thoughts out of his head. The barbarian deserved everything he had got.

    I have won, he thought. It's time to celebrate.

    “Good people of Tharbad, comrades in arms, I have defeated the Wildmen leader and have thus secured our city! Now we will celebrate OUR victory over their army and MY victory over their commander!” Eldarion shouted.

    The crowd went wild as kegs of ale and wine were brought outside, but in a silent corner he saw his wife with a disapproving look on her face. Their grey eyes met for just a brief moment before she turned away and started walking home.

    Be like that, Eldarion's angry thoughts were. I have just won a great victory and have saved our family against this foreign invader. Why can't she see I'm doing this for us.

    He was disturbed in his thoughts by his friends who had found a keg of his favorite ale and wanted to toast on the victor. They handed him a tankard.

    “To the Prince!” they shouted while hoisting their tankards in the air.

    He had won, he thought and nothing, not even his wife could spoil this for him.

    He took a sip and a long evening of drinking commenced. First the ale, then the wine and last but not least a casket of brandy. In the morning of the next day he was found by Gandalf, lying in a stupor with his friends in the outskirts of town.

    “I see you have enjoyed yourself.” he said disapprovingly.

    Eldarion opened one of his bleary eyes and immediatly shut it again as the sunlight hurted them and his head was throbbing like hell. He felt terrible and fuzzy, and his stomach was raging like a storm. Still lying down, his eyes closed he answered Gandalf.

    “I have feasted because of a great victory both personal and collectively.” he said, with a hoarse voice.

    “What is wrong with that?”

    “Nothing but why are you lying here still drunk instead of celebrating it at home with your wife and child.” Gandalf retorted.

    Eldarion shot right up to reply Gandalf in kind, but the sudden movement was too much to bear. His head exploded and his stomach heaved. There he was, the heir of the realm, the son of Isildur's Heir, crawling on all fours vomiting his guts out in front of his old tutor. Gandalf looked disgusted at his former pupil.

    “Is this the way I taught you? Is this how you behave in victory? You are no better than the Wildmen you claim to be savages!” Gandalf was furious but mostly disappointed in Eldarion.

    Eldarion felt miserable and the hangover was only part of it. He realised Gandalf was right, that he had disgraced himself by drinking himself to a stupor. He decided to swallow his pride, Gandalf deserved that much at least.

    “If it means anything, I feel really bad of what happened. I shouldn't have gone so far.” the boy said.

    Eldarion was referring to the drinking but also to the killing of his opponent. He had felt bad about it, for some strange reason. It had been that and the disapproving look from his wife that had prompted him to drink so much. In a way, he had felt guilty. It was one thing killing a man in battle, it was a whole other thing to kill someone accidentally.

    “Good.” was all that Gandalf said.

    “Go home, your wife is worried sick. I will take you there.” at which he turned around and started walking.

    Eldarion had to run a bit to catch up with the tall wizard. Feeling miserable Eldarion vowed one thing.

    I will never drink again.
    Last edited by Turkafinwë; March 18, 2020 at 08:34 AM. Reason: Change of Layout/minor changes/fixing spelling mistakes

  11. #51
    ♔atthias♔'s Avatar dutch speaking
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    Quote Originally Posted by Turkafinwë View Post
    Much appreciated! Glad you like the efforts I have put into making the maps and treaty. It seems Hirvegil was the right man for the task and indeed let's hope he has recovered from his traumatic experience with Dwarven ale.

    Book I, Chapter XVI: A Smouldering Fire
    Winter 2999 TA: Swanfleet, Tharbad.


    It was in the early Spring on the 5th of Gwaeron, 2999 of the Third Age that Aglardis, daughter and first child of Eldarion and Elenien was born. The birth of his child had halted his campaign against the Wildmen as well as Gandalf's arrival had done. Not soon after the victory in Tharbad did he arrive and he had had a lengthy discussion with Eldarion. Hard words had been thrown between the two and shouting could often be heard from the main hall. After much arguing Eldarion had agreed to Gandalf's terms and the discussion had been ended. He would not go to war until the birth of his child. And now she was here, little Aglardis. Dark hair she had and grey eyes, in true Númenórean fashion. Eldarion fell in love with her the moment he first saw her. He loved her so that he posponed his plans for his offensive against the Dunlendings to an unknown date. Many said this had been the work of Elenien but that was not entirely true. Yes she had suggested that he stayed home and take joint care of the baby and be a family. In love with his child and wife he had agreed to stay home, at least for a while. Thus Elenien and Gandalf were content for now, because they knew of the fiery nature of Eldarion's character. Although quenched for the moment, it was smouldering within and would one day flare up again. His fire would be tested soon enough.

    It was in the Winter of that same year that the Dunlendings under their Huntmaster, the heir to the Dunlending chiefdom, laid siege to Tharbad. With reinforcements coming from the northern side of the city, Eldarion sallied from the city and soundly defeated the Dunlendings. He also captured the Dunlending Huntmaster, that had been his explicit wish. Now the Dunlending was brought chained before him. Fiönghan was his name and he was a rather short man with dark hair and dark eyes. His greasy hair was clotted with blood. Fiöghan was pushed down on his knees before the vengeful Dúnadan.

    Eldarion took great pleasure in looking down on the Chieftains' son. He decided to pester the man.

    “I will talk slowly so you can understand what I'm saying. You Wildmen do speak the Common Tongue right?.” he said slowly and over annunciating every word as if talking to a child.

    Fiönghan's face reddened in anger. Eldarion grinned wolfishly.

    “I must say Thion your men die easy on Númenórean steel. Was it your plan to massacre all your men? If so you did a great job.” Eldarion said still with a grin on his face.

    He had bastardized his name on purpose to rile him. It seemed to work for Fiönghan struggled to get near his tormentor.

    “What did you think you could accomplish by attacking us? Did you think you could beat us?” Eldarion's voice rose in volume, striding towards his captive.

    “Did you think you ever stood a chance against the might of the Dúnedain. You a folk who have not developed any further than when the Númenóreans found you in your hovels in the Second Age.” he sneered at him, towering over his captive.

    “No you will never beat us and you must rejoice in the fact that we do not bother ourselves with wiping out your entire race from this Earth.” he cried.

    Suddenly his voice became a whisper as he neared Fiönghan. Eldarion put his mouth right next to his ear and said.

    “Your people will rue the day they ever set foot on this world for I will be your bane. Your people will call me the Terror from the North after I'm done with them.”

    This was too much for the Dunlending Heir and he cried that he challenged Eldarion to a duel, if he dared.

    “I would have let you go but now you leave me with no choice. You have just sentenced yourself to death. I accept your challenge!” Eldarion shouted.

    “What are your terms Dunlending? How does your people duel?”

    Fiönghan answered without hesitation.

    “We strip down to our undergarments and we wrestle in a drawn circle. The first one to push the other out of the circle wins.”

    Eldarion was not impressed, but then again what did he expect from savages.

    “What do you want if you win? Your freedom?” Eldarion asked the Wildman.

    “Why should you hold your end of the bargain? Why should I trust you in this?” Fiönghan retorted.

    “Because I am above all else a man of my word, and I take great pride in it.” Eldarion replied.

    “So what do you want from me if you manage to beat me?” he asked again.

    “I care nought for my freedom. If I win you must promise to leave my people alone and if you would release me I will convince my father Tharbad is not worth it and we will cease expanding north.” Fiönghan said.

    Eldarion thought about this and knew that if he lost all his dreams of destroying the Dunlending menace would be over. Eventually he accepted convinced he would win.

    “Very well.” he simply said.

    A circle was drawn outside the city and all the people had come to see the fight. Eldarion had become very serious now and did not waste energy pestering his opponent. He even had a flicker of admiration looking at the Dunlending's stoney face, which totally caught him offguard. The man seemed not to care for his situation. He probably thought his fate was to die today whether he won or not. Little did he know that Eldarion really was a man of his word and would not harm him if he won, though it would enrage him. Still imagined or not it was something to admire, Eldarion thought, though strange it sounded to him that he admired a Wildmen for anything at all. The referee was already shouting at him while he had been lost in thought.

    “Are you ready Ranger-Captain Eldarion!” he cried.

    “Yes, I am.” Eldarion replied.

    “Are you ready Dunlending!” he cried once more.

    “I am.” Fiönghan replied.

    “Then I declare this fight opened.” the referee shouted.

    They began by circling one another. The grey eyes watched the dark eyes as they circled and circled and circled round. Suddenly they darted forwards and grabbed each others arms and pushed. It was a brawl based purely on strength. The Dunlending's body was slippery and Eldarion could not get a good grip on him. They released each other and began circling again. Eldarion thought he saw a opening and went for the Dunlendings' legs. He was fooled by the savage who dodged the young Dúnadan and Eldarion almost fell out of the ring. He regained himself and they circled once more. His heart was pounding fiercely coming so close to defeat in such a fashion. He was still a young man of 19 years old while his opponent was in his early thirties. He would have to find another way of defeating his enemy than pure strength. Still they circled staring into each others' eyes. Eldarion saw a glint in his adversaries eye and knew the time had come. The Dunlending tried to punch him and it was then when he took his chance. He grabbed the man's wrist with his left hand, put his feet between those of his opponent and turned 180 degrees. He pulled the arm downward over his shoulder and threw the man over it out of the ring. A roar erupted from the crowd. Eldarion had won the fight and everyone was dancing with joy. Eldarion cheered at the crowd and started walking towards his opponent. The man had fought bravely and had earned a bit of Eldarion's respect. If there was anything Eldarion respected it was strength, both of body and of mind. Upon closer inspection they saw that the man was dead. He had fallen on his head and had broken his neck in the process. A sudden sadness came over Eldarion, one he didn't understand. Why was he not happy that he had defeated the man who had threatened his family and people. Eldarion shook his head as if to shake the thoughts out of his head. The barbarian deserved everything he had got.

    I have won, he thought. It's time to celebrate.

    “Good people of Tharbad, comrades in arms, I have defeated the Wildmen leader and have thus secured our city! Now we will celebrate OUR victory over their army and MY victory over their commander!” Eldarion shouted.

    The crowd went wild as kegs of ale and wine were brought outside, but in a silent corner he saw his wife with a disapproving look on her face. Their grey eyes met for just a brief moment before she turned away and started walking home.

    Be like that, Eldarion's angry thoughts were. I have just won a great victory and have saved our family against this foreign invader. Why can't she see I'm doing this for us.

    He was disturbed in his thoughts by his friends who had found a keg of his favorite ale and wanted to toast on the victor. They handed him a tankard.

    “To the Prince!” they shouted while hoisting their tankards in the air.

    He had won, he thought and nothing, not even his wife could spoil this for him.

    He took a sip and a long evening of drinking commenced. First the ale, then the wine and last but not least a casket of brandy. In the morning of the next day he was found by Gandalf, lying in a stupor with his friends in the outskirts of town.

    “I see you have enjoyed yourself.” he said disapprovingly.

    Eldarion opened one of his bleary eyes and immediatly shut it again as the sunlight hurted them and his head was throbbing like hell. He felt terrible and fuzzy, and his stomach was raging like a storm. Still lying down, his eyes closed he answered Gandalf.

    “I have feasted because of a great victory both personal and collectivly.” he said, with a hoarse voice.

    “What is wrong with that?”


    “Nothing but why are you lying here still drunk instead of celebrating it at home with your wife and child.” Gandalf retorted.

    Eldarion shot right up to reply Gandalf in kind, but the sudden movement was too much to bear. His head exploded and his stomach heaved. There he was, the heir of the realm, the son of Isildur's Heir, crawling on all fours vomiting his guts out in front of his old tutor. Gandalf looked disgusted at his former pupil.

    “Is this the way I taught you? Is this how you behave in victory? You are no better than the Wildmen you claim to be savages!” Gandalf was furious but mostly disappointed in Eldarion.

    Eldarion felt miserable and the hangover was only part of it. He realised Gandalf was right, that he had disgraced himself by drinking himself to a stupor. He decided to swallow his pride, Gandalf deserved that much at least.

    “If it means anything, I feel really bad of what happened. I shouldn't have gone so far.” the boy said.

    Eldarion was referring to the drinking but also to the killing of his opponent. He had felt bad about it, for some strange reason. It had been that and the disapproving look from his wife that had prompted him to drink so much. In a way, he had felt guilty. It was one thing killing a man in battle, it was a whole other thing to kill someone accidentally.

    “Good.” was all that Gandalf said.

    “Go home, your wife is worried sick. I will take you there.” at which he turned around and started walking.

    Eldarion had to run a bit to catch up with the tall wizard. Feeling miserable Eldarion vowed one thing.

    I will never drink again.
    I like the fact that Gandalfs point is hitting home now it seems

    well done character development most of all when you described his feelings about the "savages" I could almost feel it myself +rep
    Last edited by ♔atthias♔; May 07, 2018 at 02:00 PM.
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  12. #52
    NorseThing's Avatar Primicerius
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    Was this really a win by Eldarion? He killed the opponent instead of simply throwing him out of the circle. I wonder if this will have repercussions. I also wonder if Eldarion has failed to understand that Gandalf was not so much disappointed by the drinking as he was disappointed about a celebration that did not include the wife, home, and family.

  13. #53
    Turkafinwë's Avatar The Sick Baby Jester
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    Quote Originally Posted by ♔atthias♔ View Post
    I like the fact that Gandalfs point is hitting home now it seems

    well done character development most of all when you described his feelings about the "savages" I could almost feel it myself +rep
    Thank you very much! Gandalf's point is indeed hitting home, but will Eldarion understand it fully or will he need some other lessons?

    Quote Originally Posted by NorseThing View Post
    Was this really a win by Eldarion? He killed the opponent instead of simply throwing him out of the circle. I wonder if this will have repercussions. I also wonder if Eldarion has failed to understand that Gandalf was not so much disappointed by the drinking as he was disappointed about a celebration that did not include the wife, home, and family.
    Win or lose, it does not matter now that the man is dead. And you're absolutely right about Gandalf's disappointment. The drinking was one thing but the abandonment of his family was way worse for him. As for Eldarion, he is still a young man who often makes mistakes and still needs to learn much. Maybe one day he will fully understand what Gandalf has tried to teach him.

  14. #54
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    Araphor's plan is bold, albeit unsanctioned. No good can come of this...or will it? Even if he succeeds, Aragorn will not be too pleased, I imagine. I like Hirvegil, he seems to be a decent guy, though he may lack the agressive initiative the others seem to have...which might not actually be a bad thing. Halbarad the Hearty, nothing stands before his impetus. As for Aragorn, where he once declared "we make our war", now it seems he got more than he bargaibned for. Good update and I especially like the differences in the three general's attitudes/characteristics: Araphor the Sneaky, Hirvegil the Kind and Halbarad the Hearty, not to mention Eldarion's youthful eagerness and brash decisions. Now there's a handful for Aragorn if I ever saw one.

    Well done!
    Last edited by Darkan; May 12, 2018 at 07:20 PM.
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  15. #55
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    Good update, Turkafinwë! I agree with attias, NorseThing and Darkan. It sounds like Eldarion has much more to learn and, like NorseThing, I wonder if there will be consequences for the way that the wrestling match ended.

  16. #56
    Turkafinwë's Avatar The Sick Baby Jester
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    Quote Originally Posted by Darkan View Post
    Araphor's plan is bold, albeit unsanctioned. No good can come of this...or will it? Even if he succeeds, Aragorn will not be too pleased, I imagine. I like Hirvegil, he seems to be a decent guy, though he may lack the agressive initiative the others seem to have...which might not actually be a bad thing. Halbarad the Hearty, nothing stands before his impetus. As for Aragorn, where he once declared "we make our war", now it seems he got more than he bargaibned for. Good update and I especially like the differences in the three general's attitudes/characteristics: Araphor the Sneaky, Hirvegil the Kind and Halbarad the Hearty, not to mention Eldarion's youthful eagerness and brash decisions. Now there's a handful for Aragorn if I ever saw one.

    Well done!
    Thank you for your praising words! I'm glad you like the division in character for the main generals. I created their personalities before looking at their in-game characteristics and funnily enough they match (for the most part) with what I have created. Talk about happy coincidences. Hirvegil is I think the most virtuous of all the characters in the story, he is something I think everyone strives to be, being kind, honourable, temperate and so on. Then you have Eldarion, a character I'm very fond of, who still needs to find his way in the world. The inspiration behind Halbarad was the great hero Húrin from the First Age. A big man easy to anger but also easy to laugh, a man who was known for his ferocity on the battlefield and a true friend. And Arpahor, Araphor is indeed a very sneaky man whose cunning plan has only started. As for Aragorn's war, the outcome of war can never be predicted and Aragorn will have to make some difficult decisions in the future.

    Again thanks for your kind words!

    Quote Originally Posted by Alwyn View Post
    Good update, Turkafinwë! I agree with attias, NorseThing and Darkan. It sounds like Eldarion has much more to learn and, like NorseThing, I wonder if there will be consequences for the way that the wrestling match ended.
    Yes our brash boy is doing some stupid things lately. Maybe one day he will learn the consequences of his actions. Maybe...

  17. #57
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    Book I, Chapter XVII: A Night in the West
    Summer 2999 TA: Eastern Númeriador, Ost Gelon

    Night had fallen in Númeriador and the Dwarves were preparing to assault the town of Ost Gelon. As Darîm had planned, they had stationed themselves on the north side. They made no secret of their advance as that was the point. The Orcs were to know they were advancing on their position. The Dwarves were shouting curses and insults towards their ranks. It had the desired effect as the Orc commander sent all his forces to deal with the Dwarven forces. Darîm ordered a part of the wall to be battered down.





    And the wall was breached and the Dwarves surged forward. A roar of defiance was heard as the Orcs countercharged and a bloody battle ensued. The clanking when steel met steel could be heard all over the town and it's inhabitants were frightened by it. The sheer strength of the Dwarves managed to push the Orcs back. Darîm was on the third line of the formation and sounded his horn three times as his lieutenant had fallen in the first charge. It was time the Dúnadan entered the fray.





    Hirvegil and his men lay in hiding on the south side of the town. In the distance he heard fighting and hoped Darîm was doing well. His men were eager to join the battle and surprise the Orcs. It seemed to take ages before they heard three long notes from a horn. The signal. It was time to close the trap.

    “Alright, two of you will scale the walls and open the gate from the inside. There seems to be no sentry left so it should be no problem.” Hirvegil whispered to his men.

    The two men infiltrated the town with ease and opened the gate to let the rest of Hirvegil's forces in. They marched in without meeting any opposition and the Orcs still didn't know they were there.

    “To the Dwarves' aid! Kill the Orcs!” Hirvegil cried.

    The Dúnedain nocked their arrows and fired volley after volley into the rear of the Orcish ranks. They didn't know what to do and confusion was all around. The Dwarves sensed this confusion and pushed ever harder forward, their axes glistening in the moonlight with Orc blood. Darîm was now in the front of the melee and had killed many a Orc with his hammers. A battle frenzy had taken hold of him and noone could stop him. He went ever deeper into the enemy ranks and in a moments time he was alone among them. Completely surrounded he tried to fight them all at once but to no avail. He was struck from behind by a vicious halberd and died. The Dwarves, seeing their leader crushed, made a reckless charge to save their comrades' body.

    On the moment Darîm died, the Dúnedain charged the rear of the enemy. The battle was over as the Orcs tried to flee. Showing no mercy, the Dwarves and Dúnedain slaughtered them all.

    Hirvegil came looking for Darîm to celebrate their wondrous triumph together. The new captain, Boril, informed him that Darîm had been slain mere moments before the battle ended. Hirvegil was saddened to hear it for he had been rather fond of the short fellow. Boril and Hirvegil started to clean up the town of Orcs and piled them a couple of meters outside the town. After burning their corpses they started celebrating their victory with the liberated townspeople.

    The next day they had to decide who would take control of the town. As by the treaty the town should go to the Dúnedain, Hirvegil said, but Boril disagreed contesting that Númeriador never had been part of the kingdom of Arnor. Besides Boril added, according to the treaty, all lands would be tranfered AFTER the war was over. He further pressed his claim by saying that the Dwarves had been here first and had thought up the battleplan to take the town. Thus he argued they would take control of it. The townspeople would rather have joined the Dúnedain again than have the Dwarves take away their riches but they had no say in the matter. Hirvegil was angered but seeing that the Dwarves would not relinquish control over the town he surrendered to their demands. If he had wished he could have taken control of it by force. He still had the greater army but to do so was to break the treaty and go to war for no reason at all. The town would come to them once Angmar was defeated so ultimately their goal was met. He would make sure of that.

    Darîm would have seen reason to transfer control of the town to us. Hirvegil thought resentful.

    He missed the Dwarf already.


    Winter 2999 TA: Northern Downs, Fornost

    A couple of days later, Hirvegil said his farewell to Boril and the Dwarves and headed back home. He left his forces in Barketta while he himself returned to Fornost to report his failure. But Aragorn was not present in Fornost, nor was Halbarad when he arrived. One of the servants said they had marched north to deal with Angmarim forces roaming around in Northern Arthedain. Nirven, Halbarad's firstbon son was in charge of the city. It was he who Hirvegil turned to.

    “Long time no see Nirven. You look tired my friend, is everything alright?” Hirvegil asked.

    “I am exhausted.” he said. “I have become a father again while you were away.” he said with a weary smile.

    “Congratulations my friend. Boy or a girl?” Hirvegil asked with enthusiam. Nirven had been his apprentice and he cared much for the boy. He was like a son to him, having none of his own.

    “A boy.” Nirven answered with pride. “Arfandil is his name.”

    “Can I see him?” Hirvegil eagerly asked.

    “Sure, come with me.” a tired Nirven said.

    They went into a small room with a crib and the redhaired Imloseth sitting with a tiny bundle of blankets in her arms. The daughter of Nirven was there as well, a three year-old at the time. She had the dark hair of her father, but the brown eyes of her mother. She was looking in awe at her baby brother. Even when exhausted, Imloseth was still a beauty and she smiled at Hirvegil when she handed over little Arfandil. He looked so small in his hands. He had a tiny puff of auburn red hair, like his mother but had the grey eyes of his father.

    “We want you to be the guardian of him.” Nirven said, standing next to his wife.

    Hirvegil was touched by his apprentice's gesture. Gladly he accepted, his voice chocking. He gave the boy back to Imloseth and asked.

    “Could I borrow your husband for a moment. We have some catching up to do.”

    Imloseth looked at her weary husband and nodded. “You can have him for the remaining day, but tonight he's mine again.” she said with a tired smile.

    “Thank you, come let's find a tavern my friend.” he said clasping the young man around his shoulders.

    They went to a tavern called the Ranger's Arrow. Fornost was still a ruin, but a ruin that was alive. Over the years taverns and shops had opened in the city. Small parts of the city were already rebuilt but it was a costly endeavor and mostly done by ambitious people doing the renovating themselves. Nirven ordered a tankard of ale and Hirvegil some wine. He had developed a distate for ale since his encounter with the Dwarves. Hirvegil started the conversation by talking about all that had happened the past year. His march from Fornost to Ost Gelon, how he had been delayed by Angmarim forces in the Hills of Evendim and finally about his victory at Ost Gelon but the bitter aftermath with the Dwarves.

    “Darîm” he said “would never have refused us the town. I think the Dwarves might have heard about the silver mines in the region. Greedy, that's what they are.” Hirvegil took an angry sip from his cup.Nirven nodded in agreement. Everybody knew the Dwarves were a greedy folk and could not entirely be trusted, especially those not of the Longbeard clan. They were not Evil but in the end they did think only of themselves.

    Ultimatly Nirven said. “There is nothing we can do about it at this moment.”

    Hirvegil knew he was right.

    “But enough about my endeavors.” he said. “What about you, what has happened here. And where exactly are your father and Aragorn?”

    Nirven informed him of all that had happened in his absence.

    “As you have already seen I have become father again. My younger brother Damrod has married. As for Aragorn and my father, they have gone north to deal with an army of Angmarim. A couple of weeks ago we were informed that a large force was crossing the border once again. My father, restless as ever, wanted to meet them in open battle instead of here. Aragorn had agreed and they had set out the next day.”

    Nirven continued. “Eldarion has also become a father of a girl named Aglardis. It is said that it has tempered him, even if it is just for a while. You know what he is like.”

    Hirvegil nodded. He knew the Ranger-Captain to have a fiery spirit.

    “It is also said that he killed a Dunlending noble in single combat, with his bare hands.” Nirven said with amazement. He had always admired Eldarion for his physical strength.

    “And where is he now?” Hirvegil asked with a furrowed brow. He suspected somewhere in Wildmen territory rampaging through the countryside.

    “He is still in Tharbad. Gandalf is with him.” Nirven said with a voice that implied that was all he needed to know.

    “I see.” Hirvegil replied. “The Grey Wizard has gone south to restrain our Ranger-Captain from taking rash decisions.” Nirven nodded.

    “What of Araphor, anything happen with him.” he asked sipping his wine.

    Nirven took a gulp from his ale and explained.

    “He has won a great victory at Amon Sûl and has stationed himself to the north-east of here, in the hills of the Northern Downs. From there he can better protect the border and the people of Ost Sûl is what he has said.”

    An interesting develepmont, Hirvegil thought.

    It was a sound strategy.

    Has Araphor finally taken interest again in the realm?

    Looking at his empty cup he looked at his former ward and smilingly ordered another one. They talked for the next couple of hours about everything and nothing until both were a bit merry when darkness began to fall.

    “Well Nirven it was nice to have had this chat with you but the sun is almost gone and I wouldn't want your good lady to be angry with me.”

    They both laughed, paid the bill and walked back to their respective homes. Before going to bed Hirvegil sent a prayer to Aulë for the brave captain Darîm. He hoped the short Dwarf would be welcomed in their halls as the mighty warrior that he was.

    He knew they would never meet again.

    Battle results
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Last edited by Turkafinwë; March 18, 2020 at 08:43 AM. Reason: Change of Layout/minor changes/fixing spelling mistakes

  18. #58
    Alwyn's Avatar Frothy Goodness
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    I enjoyed this, the arrival of the Dúnedain at a crucial point in the battle at Ost Gelon is nicely done. It sounds like Araphor's victory will be strategically useful and that the new member of Eldarion's family is changing him for the better.

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    Turkafinwë's Avatar The Sick Baby Jester
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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    Quote Originally Posted by Alwyn View Post
    I enjoyed this, the arrival of the Dúnedain at a crucial point in the battle at Ost Gelon is nicely done. It sounds like Araphor's victory will be strategically useful and that the new member of Eldarion's family is changing him for the better.
    Thank you very much! A pity it was just too late for Darîm. Araphor is indeed doing very well for himself and we can only hope Eldarion calms down a bit, but will he though?

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    Default Re: To earn a Kingdom: A Northern Dúnedain Narrative - Divide and Conquer V2.1

    Book I, Chapter XVIII: Surprise
    Early Summer 3000 TA: Northern Downs, Fornost

    Aragorn and Halbarad had dealt with the threat in the north and returned back to Fornost. There they met with Hirvegil. He told them of all the things that had happened in the west and Aragorn was not pleased. He should have known the Dwarves would use the literal sense of the words in the Treaty of Thorin's Halls. No matter, it was not Hirvegil's fault and now his task done, he travelled back to Barketta to link up with his forces. Aragorn in the meantime had sent messengers to Araphor ordering him to stay put and march no further unless ordered to. The message had never arrived. Araphor or his force were nowhere to be found. They had vanished into the wastes of the north. It seemed Araphor had known messages would be sent, or it was a happy coincidence, which Aragorn doubted. Araphor had been preparing for years they realised, stockpiling supplies and gathering men for his quest. Whatever that was. Now they would have to start their offensive with an entire army less.

    Ash and bloody ashes Araphor, Aragorn thought fuming with rage.

    “It seems we will have to do it.” Aragorn said to Halbarad. “Us and Hirvegil in the west.”

    Halbarad was already rubbing his hands in glee imagining the battles to come. With Araphor gone surely that would mean more Orcs for him.

    Hirvegil was to march north from Barketta towards Fuirost and take it with the help of the Dwarves. From there he would advance south east into Northern Arthedain and take Bar-i-Donyonach. Once that was secured he was to march upon the Orc stronghold of Angsûl and support the Dwarves there. His final destination would be Carn Dûm where he would unite with all the other forces.


    Old battleplan




    Aragorn, Halbarad and Nirven where to go east into Rhudaur and after that the Ettenmoors. Once the eastern flank was secure they would march on Shedûn. When that was taken they would reunite with Hirvegil and lay siege to the Angmarim capital, Carn Dûm. That was the changed plan as normally Aragorn and Halbarad where meant to take a more direct route to Carn Dûm as Araphor had been assigned to take care of Rhudaur. With him gone they had to change tactics and take some risks. They would leave the center of the Dúnedain realm open to attack but there was no other way. To counter this a bit, Damrod, the second son of Halbarad, was to take a small force and patrol between the Northern Downs and the Weather Hills should enemy forces break through.

    They were ready to go, as ready as they would ever be. Aragorn knew that it was now or never and that this assault could mean the complete destruction of the Dúnedain realm of the North and his dream of rebuilding the Kingdom of Arnor. Hirvegil had already started marching to Fuirost and would reach it within a month's time, hopefully.

    It is time to roll the dice. He thought to himself.

    New battleplan



    The Northern Army, led by Aragorn, with in second command Halbarad and his son Nirven, was to depart at any moment. In battle Aragorn was to lead the right wing with all the cavalry in it, Halbarad the center and Nirven the left. The army was assembled and ready to go when a messenger from the south arrived. He beared grim news and demanded to speak with Aragorn.

    “My Chieftain, Gandalf sent me here in all haste. Your son has crossed the Gwathló and has entered Dunlending territory. Nobody knows whereto and to what purpose. One night he packed his things and marched his army south. He thought you might wanted to know that.” he said a bit out of breath.

    What is it with these unruly generals. First Araphor disappearing in the north and now my own son in the south. Aragorn thought. Could they not restrain themselves until Angmar was defeated. Could they not see they were jeopardizing the future of Middle-Earth for their personal agenda.

    “Thank you for informing me, you are in luck that you caught me, I was just about to leave for the war.” he said.

    “Take some rest, then you will ride back to Gandalf and thank him for alerting me of my son's escapades. Tell him he must find my son and keep an eye on him.”

    “Yes my Chieftain.” the messenger said and he turned his horse to enter the city.

    Thus Aragorn rode to war a troubled man.





    Early Summer 3000 TA, Somewhere in northern Dunland

    Arveldir had been right. A grand army was indeed gathering in the forest south of Tharbad, just across the border. They had tried to conceal their congregation by using the trees, but Arveldir's spies had found them. They had gathered around 3000 men, a formidable force indeed. At the head was the new Huntmaster Güaire, younger brother to the late Fiönghan. He wanted revenge for the killing of his brother. He had heard the tales of the tall dark haired man who had killed his brother, bare handed. It was a shame he could not bear. As it happens, the man he sought to kill was just lying in wait for him a couple of miles south east of him. Eldarion had moved his army around the forest where Güaire was hiding, knowing that the Dunlending would never expect to be attacked from that direction. It was time to give the Dunlendings a big surprise.

    “It is as you have said Arveldir, they are hiding in the forest waiting to strike at my beautiful city.” Eldarion said as they were returning from the enemy camp.

    They had spied on the camp together. Eldarion had wanted to see the enemy for himself. That way he could strategise a battleplan. He was as good as any Ranger at stealthily approaching an enemy camp.

    “Tomorrow, at dawn, we attack. We'll show these buggers who's boss even in their own lands.” Eldarion stated, already imagining his victory.

    “As you wish, Ranger-Captain.” Arveldir confirmed.


    Güaire saw the sun rise on what was looking like a promising day. He was ready to move out. He had gathered enough forces to strike back at his hated foe in the north.

    They will pay for their insolence. They will pay in blood for the death of my brother. Güaire thought. It was time for revenge.

    His lieutenant told him the men were ready to march on which he gave the order to do so. They had just formed up when they heard a soft thump and the sound of a man who had his breath kicked out of him. Then another and another and another. Before long arrows were flying all around and the ranks were broken by most of the troops trying to hide from the crossfire. Only the most disciplined troops, the Wulf legions, stayed in rank. Güaire knew this could only be one man. The same man that had killed his brother. But how.

    How could this have happened? How did they know we were here? Güare's thoughts raced through his mind. We need to get out of this forest if we want to stand a chance.

    Arrows were coming from every direction except one, the southeast. Eldarion had placed his rangers all around the camp except for the southeast, to goad his enemy in a trap. Güaire took the bait. Seeing that no arrows were coming from that direction, wrongly assuming that the enemy had attacked from the north, he ordered his troops to make for the south and form up once they had left the forest. The Dunlending force consisted mostly of heavy infantry and could be better deployed in open ground. During their murderous race through the forest, they were constantly harassed by arrows and when they almost reached the clearing, hundreds of cloaked warriors appeared from the undergrowth. Their swords shone fell when the sun hit them. Güaire looked towards the open plains and saw the contingents that had made it out were run down by cavalry. He knew now that the enemy had tricked him. His army was massacred and he was trampled by a horse while trying to flee. It seems Güaire did not have the same courage his brother had possessed.

    A shame. Eldarion thought, looking down at the body.

    Eldarion had once again dealt with a Wildmen menace, in their own territory no less. This added only to his legend back home. The young son of Aragorn, Bane of the Wildmen. He had made plans to go further south and besiege the capital of the Dunlendings, Dun Larach. This however was stopped by Gandalf, again. The Wizard always seemed to appear when Eldarion was on the verge of crushing the Dunlendings once and for all. But Gandalf had brought with him someone else. A couple of Elves from Imladris, Elrohir, the son of Elrond Halfelven, was the leader of them. He told Eldarion of the expansion of the Dunnish clans into the ancient lands of Eregion. Elrond requested that Eldarion, together with Gandalf, would deal with this threat and restore Elvish control over Eregion again. This was not what he had wanted to do, but a summoning by Elrond himself was not easy to ignore. Gandalf seemed to have mixed feelings about his involvement in the whole affair.

    “Of course I will come to the aid of my kin. The Wildmen will be ousted from Eregion and the city of Ost-in-Edhil will be restored to Elvish control. You have my word.” Eldarion said to Elrohir.

    His conquest of the Dunnish land would have to be put on hold. Then again he could destroy them at any time and Elrond needed their help, also against the Wildmen.

    They have grown bold if they think they can attack the Elves. Eldarion thought. Does their arrogance know no bounds.

    “My father will be pleased that the son of Aragorn is so willing to help his kin.” Elrohir said bowing. “I will send word that it shall be done.”

    “Done, now would you care to join us in our celebrations? We have just won a victory over our common foe.” Eldarion asked.

    Both Elrohir and Gandalf obliged and he guided them to the party tent.

    Eldarion had gotten away with his little gamble and now he was rewarded for it. A visit to the ancient city of Ost-in-Edhil and a command to fight against the much hated Wildmen.

    “It's good to be Ranger-Captain.” he said to himself

    Last edited by Turkafinwë; March 18, 2020 at 08:55 AM. Reason: Change of Layout/minor changes/fixing spelling mistakes

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