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#dead king of dunharrow
rptv-tolkien · 8 months
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Dead Men of Dunharrow
by Victor Ambrus
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novantinuum · 4 months
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there's an essay in my head somewhere about how arwen isn't AT ALL a boring and meaningless woman in the wider lotr film narrative (bc i feel so many unfairly compare her to éowyn simply bc one is a woman who gets to actively fight on the battlefield and one is a woman who... if you're only looking on the surface... doesn't have an ACTIVE role in the physical battles) and that actually her story and the role she serves is PIVOTAL to the survival of middle earth
this all stems deeply around the concept of connections and people's (and kingdom's) bonds with others being what ultimately saves them
and it's isolation and paranoia and distrust and hopelessness and inaction that are the enemy's tools
and in my mind the biggest ripple arwen creates... is that she refuses to follow suit with the inaction of the rest of her people and simply leave the denizens of middle earth to suffer and die under this wave of darkness. she refuses, because she- unlike many of the elves- actually has formed a deep connection with one of these mortals. it's dangerous for her to stay- it's perhaps even futile. but she has her connections, and she has hope in those she loves, and it's that very love that convinces her to fall back and to urge her father to reforge the shards of narsil into a new blade for the rightful king of gondor to wield. and it's that very reforged sword that is what turns the tides of the war in man's favor when aragorn convinces the dead of dunharrow to fight by his side in the siege of minas tirith
you see these kinds of ripples literally everywhere in this story and it's just. gosh. that's literally the point of all of it, huh? little moments of rebellion, little moments where singular people say "no, it simply Cannot happen this way" and because they stand up for what they believe is the right thing to do, someone else does... and then that impacts another person, and another, and then another, and- and suddenly, in the greater context of the tale, one woman's quiet decision to not leave this world forever, to stay in support of the one she loves, is one of the most powerful decisions made towards the story's outcome entirely.
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emyn-arnens · 5 months
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Hi! I was rereading The Return of the King and I got to the part where the men of Lebennin are described as being in part descended from forgotten men in the hills and I'm trying to figure out who that is exactly. The options I've thought of are Dunlendings or maybe peoples related to the Oathbreakers but I was wondering if you had any opinions?
I think you could be right on both counts! Tolkien doesn't give much detail on who the "forgotten men who housed in the shadow of the hills in the Dark Years ere the coming of the kings" might have been, but there are a few tenuous pieces we can put together.
Appendix F mentions that the Dunlendings are descendants of the Men of the White Mountains, and that the Dunlendings and Oathbreakers were once kin: "[The Dunlendings] were a remnant of the peoples that had dwelt in the vales of the White Mountains in ages past. The Dead Men of Dunharrow were of their kin." So at some distant point, the ancestors of the Dunlendings lived in the White Mountains, and then later moved to Enedwaith.
(As an aside, this post has some interesting thoughts on why the ancestors of the Dunlendings might have left the White Mountains. And the whole discussion thread is great—it's an analysis of of the Dunlendings and their history, compiled from various scraps of Tolkien's writings.)
Now, it's not clear as to whether the Dunlendings' ancestry in the White Mountains stretches all the way south to Lebennin and the surrounding areas, or if it's just relegated to the north near Dunharrow, but Tolkien does say "peoples," plural. That leads me to believe that the Dunlendings are descended from multiple people groups in the White Mountains—which could possibly include the "forgotten men." It's also possible that these "forgotten men" could have lived closer to Dunharrow originally and later moved to the southern end of the White Mountains at some point before the Númenoreans arrived. The pre-Númenorean Men in Middle-earth lived there for a long time and had plenty of time to move around before the Númenoreans showed up.
The thread I linked to above also brings up an interesting line from The War of the Ring. In Tolkien's drafts for "The Muster of Rohan" chapter, he had an abandoned reference to the Men of the White Mountains: "What had become of them? Vanished, gone away, to mingle with the people of Dunland or the folk of Lebennin by the sea." (I don't have access to that book, so I'm trusting that the poster got the quote right.) Of course, since it's a discarded draft, we can't know for sure that that was his final vision of the origins of the Men of the White Mountains, but it does bolster the connection between the Dunlendings and the Men of Lebennin.
All of this is rather shaky evidence, but I do think it's possible, even plausible, that the "forgotten men" were once the kin (even if it was very distant kin) of the Dunlendings and Oathbreakers.
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fandomn00blr · 1 year
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I see your Halbrand is Sauron theories...they're juicy and all...but what if...I mean, just maybe...he's the King of the Dead (memba those Dunharrow ghost dudes?). That could be a delicious (and more tragical) betrayal, no? Dude has baggage...what's a few (hundred?) lifetimes' worth more?
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mirkwoodshewolf · 8 months
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IATCOD Chap. 24; The siege of Gondor
*Author's note*
So after a couple of days this chapter was finally able to come together. I apologize in advance if the battle sequence towards the end as well as the ending feels rushed but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless.  Now idk when I'll update the next chapter since my vacation time is over and I'll be going back to work, then my work will transition into new work hours so idk how my updating schedule will be like but I'll try to get the next chapter done as soon as I can cause we're gonna include my all time FAV scene, 'The battle of Pelennor fields' in Cain's POV. But that's in the next chapter, for now not really much warnings except for Denethor's madness truly shining now and some graphic battle sequences.
NEXT CHAPTER
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*Cain’s POV*
We rode through Dunharrow and I could already hear so many heartbeats of both men and horses.  The sound of iron clanking on metal forges and tents being pitched up for the night.  As we rode along, the men of Rohan acknowledged and announced their King’s arrival while Theoden raised his hand in greeting.
“Grimbold, how many?” Theoden asked.
“I bring 500 men from the Westfold my lord.” Grimbold answered to my right.
“We have 300 more from Fenmarch, Theoden King.” Proclaimed another man.
“Where are the riders from Snowbourn?” asked Theoden but another man told him.
“None have come, my lord.” Replied another man.
“We’re going to make camp just ahead on top of the mountain cliff’s. If you feel the altitude will be too much for your heightened senses, Theoden King will understand if you wish to stand at the ground level here.” Aragorn said as he rode up next to me.
“I appreciate the visual aid Aragorn, but I will be fine. It took some time for me to adjust but I’m able to rest on top the highest mountains Harad has to offer. The journey up the cliff’s will not deter me.” He hummed in acknowledgement as we rode up the steep cliff’s side all the way to what I assume is the King’s cliff’s where only the King of Rohan and his council members would rest while the rest of the army makes camp here down below.
When we got to the top and the men started to make camp, I stood with Theoden alongside the edge and fully counted the number of heartbeats that stood before us.
“6000 spears.” Theoden voiced my answer as Aragorn came and stood beside us.  “Less than half of what I’d hoped for.”
“6000 will not be enough to break the lines of Mordor.” I wouldn’t give up hope Aragorn.
“More will come.” Theoden assured him.  As he walked away, he stopped as Aragorn said.
“Every hour lost hastens Gondor’s defeat. We have till dawn, then we must ride.”
“I’m afraid he’s right Theoden King. With the four days we’ve lost since their departure, who knows what damage Gondor has already taken. Plus the three days ride from here to there. We cannot wait anymore.” I told him.  Theoden turned to me and nodded and that’s when a cold shiver ran up my spine and I could sense a presence nearby.
A dark, unrestful presence.  And I could sense from Aragorn that he was feeling the same thing I was.  I could also hear how the horses were starting to panic.
“Theoden, where exactly does this camp stand?”
“Just a few yards straight ahead of you Master Cain is the road to the Dimholt. The—”
“Door under the mountain.” I finished.
“You know of it?”
“Yes. And I know it’s story. Hela was involved with its making and it’s curse upon the souls who dwell there. Perhaps it’s best she hadn’t come with us.”
“All the years she and my ancestors had made camp here in previous wars, I never did understood why she never settled up here.” Theoden muttered.
“And now you know. The spirits here would not have welcomed Hela with open arms after what she did. I dare not speak ill of the dead but it’s not like they didn’t deserve what they got.” I walked away from Theoden and headed towards the horse stable where I heard Wisteria in a full panic.  Huffing and stomping her hooves with high levels of anxiety.
Slowly I came around to her and calmed her down in Elvish.  Cautiously approaching her from the side instead of head on like most of these men have been doing.
“Fæste, stille nú. Fæste, stille nú. Shhh. Shhh. Nú. Nú. Stille nú.” I took her reigns and she whinnied anxiously and frightenedly.  “Steady girl, steady big girl. All is calm, all is calm.” I gently stroked up her muzzle with the back of my fingers as she let out a huff.  “I know, I know big girl. But you have nothing to fear, not while I’m here. You trust me right?” she let out a soft neigh as I softly smiled, “Then nothing shall harm you whilst I’m here.”
She lowered her head down to my chest and I hugged her, stroking up and down her powerful neck.
“That’s my brave girl.” I gave her neck a couple of pats before rubbing it in soothing circles once more.  “We’re a team, you and me as one. I will keep you safe, if you keep me safe.” She nickered as she gave me a soft headbutt to which I placed my forehead up to hers.
“It’s almost as if you know exactly what she is thinking.” Éowyn’s voice spoke from behind me.  I turned to her and said.
“Celestials have always had the gift of knowing animals emotions. It’s not like I can precisely know what she’s saying but I can sense how she feels based on her emotions.”
“Merry is currently being suited for his Esquire attire, he wishes have you be there for him when I bestow his armor upon him.” I smiled.
“And I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Lead the way my lady.” I held my arm out and she took it as she guided me to where Merry was.
“Master Cain you came!”
“As I told lady Eowyn, I wouldn’t miss my young pupil getting fitted for his position as Esquire of Rohan.” He ran up and embraced me and I embraced him back.
“When will it be ready?” he asked Eowyn.
“Armor and helms take time to mold and size out, be thankful they were able to take your measurements the second we arrived.” Eowyn told him.  The way Merry’s heart raced, it reminded me of when Yvaine and I would take the children on a surprise picnic and they couldn’t wait any longer.
“Could you maybe check and see how it’s coming along?” asked Merry.
“Be patient Merry, these things can’t be rushed. It’s better to have an armor that is steadily prepared and fits properly rather than sloppy and unusable. You wouldn’t want your chest plate to come off and allow a sword to pierce right through you, do you?”
“No. That wouldn’t be good.” He said.
“I can still check to see how it’s coming along. With an armor your size, maybe it wouldn’t take as long to forge.” She stood up and I grabbed her wrist and whispered to her.
“You don’t need to if you don’t want to.”
“It’s really no trouble lord Cain.” I released her wrist and she left the tent.
“Now I’ve read what Esquires do in books back in the Shire, but does that also mean I’m also a knight of Rohan?” Merry asked me.
“Esquires can be knighted into knighthood by the King but that’s only if the King commands it. For now you will do as the King commands and be at his side until the battle is near.” Merry nodded.
“So is it like what you’re doing in Hela’s stand?” I smiled.
“Hela was the chief founder alongside the first king of Rohan in founding their kingdom. As such she was given the title Celestial Knight. A position in which only she can obtain. She not only helps serve in times of great war, but also acts as head of council to the king and his descendants till the end of time.”
“Hela always shared with us stories of her times serving alongside great Kings of Men. But she always held such praise whenever she talked about the two kingdoms of men, This one and Gondor, where she, Pip and Gandalf are.”
“She had a good connection with the mortal beings. Even when Ikaris and Thranduil tried to advise her on the warnings of associating with mortals, she didn’t care. Like me, she knew it was better to form as many friendships as you can in one’s life, than to never have taken the chance at all.”
“The armor is ready.” Eowyn said as she came in and I could smell the leather and metal of the buckles enter the tent.  Merry’s heart exhilarated with excitement and she continued, “Let’s test it out to make sure it fits you properly.” Merry stood up and together he and Eowyn started assembling his armor.
It took the span of the rest of the day but bit by bit Merry received his armor until finally his helm was ready.  Eowyn was just finishing adjusting it onto his head before finally saying.
“There, a true esquire of Rohan.” She stood up and I could hear and smell the excitement that was radiating from Merry.  His hand went to his belt and he exclaimed as he quickly withdrew his sword.
“I’m ready!” almost nearly slicing Eowyn across her chest. She jumped back with a gasp before laughing softly and I told him.
“Easy up there young warrior. Don’t want to hurt the Lady of the house you serve.”
“Sorry, it isn’t not all that dangerous. It’s not even sharp.” He muttered the last part sadly.
“Well that’s not good, you won’t kill many orcs with a blunt blade, right Lord Cain?” she said to me.
“Indeed not.” I replied.  “Come along, my own weapons could do with a proper sharpening too.” I stood up and exited the tent first followed by Merry who was practicing swinging his sword from the techniques I taught him.
“To the smithy with Lord Cain. Go!” Eowyn urged him and Merry raced on to catch up with me as we headed towards the smithy to get our weapons sharpened before war.
“Do you think after we get our weapons sharpened, we can train some more tonight?”
“Perhaps. But it cannot be a long training session I’m afraid. We have until dawn then we’re leaving for battle.” He nodded as he presented the blacksmith with his sword whilst I gathered my own weapons.  I then soon picked up another heartbeat that was currently making the climb up the cliff’s but it was not a Man’s heart, but Elven.  A heartbeat I had not heard in a long time, not since it had been nearly an Age since my own exile and he was still under the service of Gil-Galad.
I could also taste in the air the taste of freshly forged silver.  So the legend is finally being fulfilled, The blade that was broken, shall return to Minas Tirith in the hands of the Returning king.
“Cain? Master Cain?” I snapped out of my thoughts as Merry’s hand was on my arm.  “It’s your turn for your weapons to be sharpened.”
“Right, sorry Merry.” I presented the blacksmith with my daggers and knives.
“You were pretty deep in thought, is everything okay? Are we in danger?” Merry whispered the last part.
“Not here no. Just….hearing of a legend finally being put into motion.” Merry looked at me confused.  “Nothing you need to worry yourself over.”
“Here you are Lord Celestial.” The blacksmith said.  Merry took my weapons and handed them to me one by one whilst I places them around my belt and the two of us walked off to find an area to train when I heard Éowyn’s heart starting to break.
From the moment I first came here, I knew she had harbored some feelings towards Aragorn but he had to tell her that what she felt wasn’t real and that he cannot love her the way she wants him to.  Rejection is a harsh, cold reality that hurts worse than a steel blade cutting through you or even getting a punch from Gilgamesh. 
I hope that she can one day find someone who will truly love her.
“Merry, why don’t you find us a space to train? There’s something I need to do.”
“You sure you don’t need me to come along?”
“No, no. You go on, practice those combos I taught you back at the Golden Hall with your newly sharpened sword. I won’t be long.” He nodded then he left my side whilst I honed in on Aragorn’s heartbeat along with Gimli’s and Legolas’ who were standing at his side.  I came around a few tents to hear Gimli say.
“You might as well accept it, we’re going with you laddie.” I smiled.  Those three truly have formed such a bond of friendship and brotherhood throughout this entire quest.
“You should be grateful to have friends such as these Aragorn.” I said making myself known to them.  “Such loyalty in friendship has only ever been strong amongst my own kin that we tried to teach all those who came to Middle Earth.”
“Am I to assume you also are hoping to partake in our journey to the Dimholt?” Aragorn asked me.  I chuckled softly.
“Fortunately for you, I won’t. Someone has to stay behind and look after things on this end. I only came to see you three off, and to give you warning.” I walked up to Aragorn and he placed his hand to my shoulder whilst I did the same for him.  “The place you are about to enter is a place far worse than even the dark spell of Mordor can muster. A dark veil between our world and the unseen world, cursed by the Celestial of Death herself. The dead do not bargain with the living for they have nothing to lose. But hold true to your purpose, do not back down from your offer. And they will fight for you.”
“I’ve seen how Hela works her ways with the great beyond and she too has taught me how to speak with them. I’ll heed both yours and her teachings.” I smiled as our foreheads touched and I whispered to him in Elvish.
“May the grace of Celestial of Death Hela protect you three.” After Aragorn and I separated, he got on top of Brego whilst Legolas and Gimli got onto Arod and I walked beside Aragorn, guiding them towards the road to the Dimholt.
As we walked, I could hear the men muttering about why we were leaving on the eve of battle.  When we got closer to the entrance of the mountain, I stopped and released Brego’s reigns and felt the three of them disappeared within the darkness.  The men tried to call out to Aragorn to ask what he was doing but he didn’t give an answer as he disappeared.
“Lord Cain, what is the meaning of this?” asked one of the men.  “Why does he leave on the eve of battle?” I didn’t give a response until Gamling spoke up, hopelessness clearly ringing in his voice as he spoke.
“He leaves because there is no hope.”
“He leaves because he must.” I told him as I turned to face him.
“Lord Cain speaks the truth.” Theoden soon came forth aiding my statement.
“Too few have come. We cannot defeat the armies of Mordor.” Gamling said again.  There was deaf silence in the air as Theoden admitted to them.
“No….we cannot.” I could hear several of the men’s hearts drop in fear and hopelessness, that was until Theoden said to them, “But we will meet them in battle nonetheless.” A soft smirk came across my lips as I nodded in agreement with the King.  That alone began to light a spark of hope amongst the men once more.
As promised, I soon found Merry and together the two of us worked on his combinations as well as some basic horse training since he’ll be needing to know just how to handle his horse in battle. After only two hours of training, I told him to get some rest for we had a long journey ahead of us in just a few hours from now.
Dawn approached into the sky and the sparrows began to stir, the morning dew seeped onto the flowers and grass, and the horses began to awaken.  Both on the upper cliffs and down below the riders were quickly packing up camp, dousing out all the fires and saddling up their horses for departure.
I was with Wisteria and saddled her up with my pack underneath her saddle and she let out a soft whinny.
“Yes big girl. It is time. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’ll need you to be my eyes whilst we travel and when we arrive at Gondor. I am unfamiliar with these lands and I’ll need every bit of help when Theoden gives the command, can you do that for me?” she let out a proud huff and stamped her hooves twice.  “Thank you Wisteria, you’re a brave girl.” I kissed her muzzle and mounted on top of her.
“Lord Cain!” Théoden’s voice cried out to me.  I heard his horse ride up towards me and he said, “You ride with me at my side opposite of Éomer.”
“Yes Theoden King.” I told him as I urged Wisteria on and she followed right behind Théoden’s horse.  But all too soon he stopped as we came up to Merry and I was surprised to hear Theoden say to him.
“Little hobbits do not belong in war Master Meriadoc.” There was no condescending tone nor insulting demeanor to his tone, it was as if he was doing this for Merry’s own good.
“All my friends have gone to battle. I would be ashamed to be left behind.”
“It is a three day gallop to Minas Tirith and none of my riders can bear you as a burden.” Merry’s heart broke as he tried to persuade King Theoden.
“I want to fight!” Theoden was silent for a moment before he told him.
“I will say no more.” Then he rode off.  I turned to Merry and I knew he was looking up at me desperately.
“Master Cain, please.” I looked between him and where Theoden had ridden off to as Théoden’s voice called out to me.
“Lord Cain!” I sighed heavily and told him.
“It is beyond my control Merry. Even Hela would say the same thing. But take heart Merry, there might be a rider yet to bear you hence. I am too close to Theoden King to do so myself.” I urged Wisteria onward and she ran to catch up beside Théoden’s horse as everyone began to move out.
“Form up! Move out! Form up! Move out!” Éomer proclaimed to one and all as we rode through the fields of Dunharrow.
“Ride! Ride now to Gondor!” Theoden proclaimed.  Soon the armies of Rohan rode away from Dunharrow and on the path to Gondor.
*My POV*
I sat there in the tombs of the Kings and Stewards kneeling before the grave of Ecthelion, Denethor’s father.
“I just don’t know what to do anymore old friend. Your son has completely lost his mind. Nothing will get through to him now. This great city is at its dire hour. And I’m afraid that not even my powers will be enough to defend its shining glory.” I solemnly spoke.  I felt the soft graze of wind at my face.
‘You will have the strength to defend our home Hela.’ I heard Ecthelion’s voice say to me.
“Not according to your son.”
‘My son will need you now more than ever Hela. I know you and he never saw eye to eye. And that blame falls upon me. But soon he will see the truth. For now you must help another of my heirs.’
“What do you mean?” I asked.
‘You know of whom I speak. Reach out and hear his heart ring true.’ I then felt his presence leave me and I was once again alone in the tombs.  I closed my eyes and reached out with my own powers and could hear a single heartbeat coming closer to the walls of the city.  It was faint and weak but it still beat with life.  I let out a gasp and whispered.
“Faramir.” He’s alive!
“Hela! Hela!” I turned to see Pippin racing towards me.
“Pippin? Have you come to tell me about Faramir?” he stopped before me and had a look of shock and confusion on his face.
“He’s alive?”
“Yes. Hurry I’ll explain it on the way hurry!” I picked him up then using Makkari’s speed we raced towards the courtyard where the White tree stood and being brought in on a gurney by several guards was Faramir gravely wounded but his heart rang true.
I set Pippin down and raced up to Faramir and helped the guards set him down.  I touched his forehead and could see that like his brother, he had two arrows lodged in his body one near his shoulder, and the other near his lower gut.  Thankfully the guards were smart enough to not try and pull the arrows out completely otherwise he would’ve bled out.
“Faramir, Faramir can you hear me?”
“My lady he is dead.” Said one of the guards.
“No, he’s not. I can still hear his heartbeat. It’s faint but he’s still alive. We need to get him to a healer immediately!”
“Faramir?” we turned to see Denethor running out of the palace and across the courtyard.  He pushed me out of the way and knelt before his son weeping, “Say not that he has fallen.”
“They were outnumbered. None survived.”
“That’s not true! We can still save him!” I tried to speak up.
“My sons are spent…..my line has ended. The house of the Stewards has failed……” Denethor tearfully whimpered as he staggered away from Faramir.  I then saw Pippin go up to Faramir and he too saw what I had seen.
“He’s alive!” Pippin vouched for me.
“Please we must do something there is still hope. Denethor listen to us! Your son still lives!” I proclaimed.
“She’s right my lord he needs medicine.” Pippin agreed.
“My line has ended!” Denethor cried out tearfully.  I clenched my hands into fists and stormed towards him but my anger soon turned to horror at what I saw before me.
A full battalion of orcs spreading out far and wide across the entire Pelennor fields.  Not even the force that Saruman had sent to Isengard was as great as this.  It was as if the entire fields had been covered in a blanket of shadow.
“Rohan…..has deserted us.” I heard Denethor mutter under his breath.  I watched as the trolls readied the catapults with heavy boulders and they were soon fired by the orc launchers.  The stones flew high towards the towers and I could hear the panicked screams of the people, not only guards but women and children.  “Theoden’s betrayed me!” Denethor sneered under his breath.
No. No that’s not true! If anyone it’s your fault Denethor! You could’ve called out earlier but you had to resort Gandalf, Pippin and I to do your work for you like you’ve always had.  I’m sorry Ecthelion, I truly am.
“Abandon your posts! FLEE! FLEE FOR YOUR LIVES!!” Alright that’s it! I suddenly appeared before Denethor and knife chopped him in the neck.  He let out a gasped groan as he grabbed his neck.  I snarled and then using Makkari’s special move, I used my index and tall finger to disable Denethor by hitting all of his pressure points to paralyze him.
It may have looked like an overkill but by the time I was done with him, he looked like a writhing mess on the floor and all that could be heard from him was a choked gurgle.
“PREPARE FOR BATTLE!! RETURN TO YOUR POSTS!!” I used my Celestial voice to boom across the entire city to make sure that the guards knew where they stood now.  I turned to Gandalf who was also looking down at Denethor with disgust but when he looked at me, he nodded firmly.
I shifted to Ikaris’ uniform and flew off to help prepare the soldiers for battle.  I landed along the walls at the Gate and told the soldiers.
“You will either take orders from me or the White Wizard. Your Steward has chosen to abandon your city. You are all soldiers of Gondor! Will you flee and allow your home to burn and your families be slaughtered or will you stand and fight!?” the soldiers all withdrew their bows and arrows readying for the attack I would give them.
My hands slowly glew with star bolts and I flew just a few feet from them and I told them to ready themselves.  As the orcs drew closer I told them to hold, hold, hold until I shouted.
“RAIN FIRE!!!” The archers then unleashed a rain of arrows down upon any and all orcs that came near the gates while I fired my star bolts at them.  This time (and from what I’ve seen of my Starlight kin in the past), when I fired my star bolts it was like an explosion had been set off from underneath their feet.  “Don’t you dare let a single one of these foul creatures get one scratch on those doors!” I proclaimed as I kept firing a rain of star bolts upon each and every orc that came near the gates.
Suddenly I felt a burning sensation from behind my eyes.  I grunted and tried to rub the feeling away but it kept getting burning brighter and brighter until finally……ZAP!! Star bolts came out of my eyes right at one of the towers which exploded underneath my power.
The burning sensation soon went away and I had recalled.  Only Ikaris and Cain were able to do this special move and together they were an unstoppable pair whenever they were able to do this move.  They had called it ‘Starlight’s Gazer-beam’.  A beam of powerful light that comes out of both eyes but it was as powerful and deadly as dragon-fire.
I smirked deviously and turned my attention back to the orcs.  I could hear most that had witnessed what I had done, their hearts racing in fear.  My entire body glew brighter but that’s when the sounds of the Nazgul came from above.
This time all nine of them had come to battle, including the Witch King himself.  I turned to the guards and proclaimed to them.
“Show them no mercy!” I flew towards the sky and felt my eyes burning once more and I shot a starlight gazer-beam right towards Angmar himself.  He swerved his fellbeast aside completely dodging my attack by a hair and turned his attention towards me.
The dark aura of his very spirit had my entire body shaking but I had to do this.  I knew he was the greatest threat to this kingdom, so if I take out the head of the snake, we’ll have a slight advantage without his dark magic affecting this city.  Plus this fight was personal, he already took Anor I wasn’t going to let him take Gondor too.
The Witch King and I stared each other down as my body continued to glow and shimmer like a star as both fear and rage boiled inside of me like an unknown mixture of stew.  I then flew towards him at great speed as I let out a Celestial battle cry which echoed through the entire sky.  While at the same time, Angmar urged his fellbeast towards me, screeching out his agonizing shriek wielding his Morgul blade.
I crossed my arms sending out a beam of light towards him, stirring him off course and fired a star bolt right at his back.  He turned and urged his fellbeast to follow me.  I took them high above the city but down towards the orc armies.  As low as I could go whilst exploding through the orc armies to hopefully give Gondor a fighting chance.  Angmar used his fellbeast to try and grab me but I fired multiple star bolts right into it’s mouth and face which forced it to rear itself inward and I took off flying back up into the sky.
A few seconds later, Angmar reappeared through the clouds with his flaming sword in hand now and I readied my own attack.  My eyes once again feeling that burning sensation until I fully let it out and it hit straight at Angmar’s flaming sword.  If I could somehow destroy that, it should lessen some of his powers.  If you had to ask me for most powerful weapons, in order I’d tell you it was his famed Morgul blade, followed by his Flaming sword and then his mace.
He blocked himself with his flaming sword, just like I had hoped he would.  I increased the power of my Starlight gazer-beam, crying out in rage, regret, and sorrow at all the lives he had taken back at Anor.  However I could feel, the power of his sword starting to push my power back towards me.
My body shook and trembled but I tried to push on until finally with a flash of light I was sent falling back towards the city where I had crashed through the White tower of Ecthelion.  I slammed through one side of the tower and actually came out the other side until I was skipping and going across the upper courtyard near the palace.
“HELA!!” I let out a groan as I felt small hands grip onto my shoulders.  “Miss Hela? Hela?!” I opened my eyes to see Pippin hovering over me and he said in relief, “You’re okay!” he immediately embraced me and that’s when I saw Gandalf running up towards me.  Fear suddenly took over me as I told him.
“He’s too powerful. Not even with Ikaris’ power can I stop the Witch King.” Gandalf and Pippin looked at me in despair and horror respectively.
“You will help us with the orcs and trolls. The Nazgul—will have to wait. These men need a commanding officer. They need you Hela.” Gandalf told me.  I nodded and grunted in pain as I stood up and returned to my own Celestial armor and summoned Aeglos to my hand.
“Pippin, you wait here and guard the palace. If there is a breach, the city will need you to defend it from harm.” I told him.  Pippin nodded and withdrew his sword showing me that he was ready to do his duty as Guard of the Citadel.
“Be careful Hela.” I nodded then both Gandalf and I raced off to command the soldiers of Gondor throughout the battle.
By the time the sun was setting in the West and the first signs of nightfall were upon us, the battle was still raging onward.  According to Gandalf the lower levels had been breached, now my main objective was to get the women and children up to the second level.  Using Makkari’s speed, I grabbed as many women and children as possible to race them out of harms way before the orc armies could flood into this part of the city.
Once everyone was through, we barred the gates of the second level and I said to some of the guards.
“Gather every bowmen you’ve got left and get them into these buildings, the orcs won’t suspect a surprise attack from the tops of civilian homes. And make sure they barricade the homes once there inside.”
“Yes my lady Celestial.”
“HELA!! HELA!!!” I heard Pippin’s voice calling out to me.  Through the panicked crowd I couldn’t see my young hobbit friend but as I pushed through them I finally caught sight of him.
“PIP!!” I called out to him.  He raced over to me and cried through the panicked screams.
“Denethor has lost his mind! He’s burning Faramir alive!” my eyes widened.
“Tell me where and hold on!” I picked him up and using Makkari’s speed, we quickly raced to where Denethor had taken Faramir to be burned.  But we were stopped by a few guards who sported armor with anti-Celestial runes.  I narrowed my eyes and reverted back to my normal armor, my hearing coming back instantly as the leading guard said to me.
“You cannot take another step Celestial Hela, by order of the Steward of Gondor.”
“Clearly you can see that your Steward has gone completely mad! His son is alive and you’re willing to let Faramir be burned alive?! If not then you lot are about as mad as Denethor has become.”
“Hela,” Pippin said to me but I shushed him.
“If you choose to fight us we’ll have no choice but to use extreme measures.” Said the leading guard.
“Hela.” Pippin now began tugging on my trousers like a child demanding attention.
“I’ve fought with worse beings than you lot.”
“Hela!”
“What Peregrin Took!?” I snapped at him.
“There’s something you need to know about these guys.”
“If it’s about the Celestial runes on their armor I can see that Pippin.”
“No, it’s about Haldir.” I froze.  I looked down at Pippin and whispered.
“You can’t say his real name here Pippin.”
“Hela, they already know. Haven’t you noticed how he didn’t come to help aid in the fight?” I thought back.  Now that he mentioned it, I hadn’t even been able to detect Haldir’s heartbeat within the city at all.  “I’m sorry Hela, but—they somehow found out and took him.”
“And you’re sure it was these men here?” I asked lowly.
“I saw it with my own eyes. I even heard someone else’s voice. It was—it frightened me. It was both warm yet unsettling and I swore I saw Haldir’s eyes glow red at one point.” Red eyes? Deimos! I turned to the men and demanded.
“What have you men to say against these allegations? Are they true? Did you apprehend an Elf earlier today?”
“We have no idea what you’re talking about.” Said the leader.  Oh they want to play this game, okay I’ll play along. 
I lifted my hand as it glowed black with my own magic and all the men lurched forward in agony as they gripped their chests in pain. 
“Don’t make me ask twice!” I threatened in a low, menacing tone.
*3rd Person POV*
Over at Minas Morgul, now that the Witch king and the armies of Mordor had finally cleared the fortress, there was no one left but four people.  Nergal who was sitting with a Morgul blade in his hand, Perses who stood along the balcony with his arms crossed looking outward towards Gondor, and Deimos stood with a blood stained dagger in his hand and standing right before him in wires was Haldir.
His upperbody stained with blood, bruises, and scars.  The wires Haldir had been bounded by were unlike anything he had ever seen or heard of before.  With each struggle or even movement he made, the wires would dig into his skin like a knife causing not only pain but discomfort.  And they also seemed to get tighter with each movement he made.
“I’ll admit, I’ve had my fill but now I’m growing bored, why can’t we just kill this Elfling and be done with him already?” Deimos said.
“What good is he to us if he’s dead? We want him alive for Hela’s arrival.” Nergal said.  That’s when Perses’ brow rose up and he moved toward the balcony and he said in a low menacing growl.
“It’s happening.” Deimos and Nergal turned to him.  “Can’t you feel it? She’s finally giving in.” Deimos smelled the air and exhaled pleasurable and said with a menacing grin.
“He’s right, I can smell her rage from here. And she’s close, so very close to spilling that blood in raw rage.”
“Seems you were right Perses, all she needed was that extra little push.”
“Soon the Celestial of Death will arrive and she’ll be at our mercy. Then all of Middle Earth shall bow before us.” Perses then let out a menacing cackle which echoed through the mountains surrounding Minas Morgul.
Back at Gondor, Pippin stood there terrified at seeing Hela, the woman he came to admire as a sister figure suddenly become this raging, terrifying deity who didn’t seem to show any mercy.  The men had now been submitted to unspeakable torture thanks to Hela’s own magic.
They were all now writing in agony on the floor as it had felt like they were burning from the inside out.
“You tell me where he is now!?” with a flick upward of her wrist the men were now levitating upside down, the blood quickly rushing to their heads but they also felt their own hearts slowly stopping as Hela’s hand slowly closed into a fist.
“ALRIGHT WE’LL TELL YOU!!” proclaimed one of the other guards.
“YES WE’LL TELL YOU ANYTHING! PLEASE HAVE MERCY ON US!!” exclaimed another guard.  Hela put those two men down and as they let out a long gasp of air before coughing, they were suddenly dragged forward towards Hela and she gripped their throats and demanded.
“Talk.”
“Lord Perses suspected of an Elf being in this city. He had ordered all of us to be on the lookout and if we were to find it, we had to surrender it to them.”
“Haldir is not an IT!” Hela’s voice got low before growling menacingly as she squeezed the guard’s throat tightly.
“My apologizes my lady!” he choked out.
“Where did you take him?!” she growled.
“To Minas Morgul.” Said the other guard she had in her grasp.  “He said if we found the Elf, to take him there. We don’t know what they had planned for him there! We swear!” Hela released their throats and stood still.  As the men coughed and quickly ran as fast as they could away screaming in fear, Pippin looked up to Hela.
“Hela? A-are you—okay?” suddenly the ground began to shake.  The men Hela still had hanging upside down, had finally been released from their spell and called out a retreat.  The whole city soon began to shake as if an earthquake was about to bring the city to the ground.  Pippin turned to Hela to see her hands had clenched up so hard, that her knuckles not only grew white but blood was dripping from her palm.
Her hair began to raise up and wave like a banner and her eyes suddenly glew a pure white and she let out a scream.  Like when she had her ‘Celestial roar’ back during the Battle of the Five armies when Thorin betrayed her trust. 
However unlike before when her power was nulled, this time the full wrath of the Celestial’s roar could be heard.  And with Hela’s powers increased tenfold since then, it shook the entire kingdom of Gondor.
And when both men and orcs heard her scream, they thought at first it was a Nazgul scream however unlike theirs, it was more raw, more painful, and more angrier than theirs.  Everyone had no choice but to cover their ears less they wish to have their very ears explode off their face.
Her black magic began to surround her like a hurricane as she was lifted up into the sky.  Pippin held on for dear life as he watched in heartbreak and horror at Hela’s powers become erratic and unstable.  He let out a grunt as he tried to walk towards her through the powerful winds that her magic was bringing about. 
When he found her, he reached up and grabbed her ankle as her head immediately faced towards him, a contorted face of pure rage stared down at him, almost like she didn’t even recognize him.  But Pippin held firm as he pulled on her leg till she came down, when she came to her knees he immediately embraced her as tight as he could hoping that it would bring her out of this rageful state.
Then as quick as it had occurred, her magic vanished and all went still and quiet once again.  Hela’s glowing eyes reverted back to her normal eye color and said wept.
“It’s all my fault.”
“Go after him.” Hela turned to the young hobbit.  “I understand now. Back in Lothlorien, why you were away from us that whole time we were there. And what you had told Merry and I when we rested near those falls about your failed relationship. It was him wasn’t it? Haldir is the elf you love and still love.”
“I can’t go to Minas Morgul. That place it—they know that’s the one place I can never go to.”
“But you love him, and he loves you. Otherwise he wouldn’t have come back to you, right?” Pippin wiped away her fallen tears.  “A Celestial goes to where they are needed, and that right now is with Haldir. Go after him.” Hela embraced Pippin and he gave her a kiss on her cheek.  “I’ll find Gandalf, thanks to what you did you might’ve spared us some time. Not even Denethor could’ve ignored that.” Hela softly chuckled but then stood up and turned to Minas Morgul.  She shifted into Makkari’s armor and she quickly raced out of the city and ran towards Minas Morgul.
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betabites · 5 months
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Semi-Orktober: Most of these were completed just before the move, but not photographed.
First, we have the pseudo-Istari, because they're just Reaper minis, but there's certainly a resemblance, even ignoring my paintjob. Mostly, I used these as color-tests for the actual miniatures. White remains difficult to paint, but I think actual Saruman was much improved by my suffering and learning on this one. Pseudogandalf was my first attempt at object-sourced lighting; definitely going to have to make further attempts. I don't have an actual Radagast mini, so this one was just for fun.
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The start of my Dead of Dunharrow: the king, three riders and dismounts, and two can either be heralds or bannermen, depending on the needs of the list. The official minis are fine, but I saw these from Fireforge Games, and wanted these distinctly Celtic ones, if only because I see a lot of parallels between the locals of the Westlands (Dunharrow, Dunland) and the early Britons. The Angles, Saxons, and Jutes did not fill a empty land, and neither did the Numenoreans. I went with blue to tie into the usual woad-wearing (as paint and dyes), and also to echo the blue-and-white of the Fiefdoms, and the dark-blue/black and white of Minas Tirith.
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A small unit of Rohirrim fyrdmen - they can be fielded as Rohan Warriors with throwing spears, but they're meant to be part of the Westmark fyrd: ten regulars and two men from Erkenbrand's household (with banner and horn, and swords and armour). My partner expressed an interest in maybe playing Rohan, so this was partially to use up some extra troopers from my Dunland forces, and partially to have a small infantry force to support the endless cavalry.
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So, fun note! There's a line in the Silmarillion about the clash of the Last Alliance and Sauron (from 'Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age'): "All living things were divided in that day, and some of every kind, even of beasts and birds, were found in either host, save the Elves only." Which means that the Last Alliance had orcs fighting against Sauron. Thus, Yarrow and his band, deserters from the power of Isengard, under a sign of a golden-boughed tree.
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I've finished the first member of the Fellowship: Samwise the Brave. Also, the priority token that comes with the Fellowship box (and the Ring), and a pack of corgis to serve as Farmer Maggot's hounds (corgis from Bad Squiddo Games).
Lastly, the Dark Lord unveiled:
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Not impressed with your behavior, young lady!
Morwen Steelsheen being NOT impressed with her granddaughter Eowyn joining the Rohirric army to Gondor
“ÉOWYN ÉOMUNDSDOHTOR!! YOU BETTER EXPLAIN WHY YOU ARE IN GONDOR RIGHT NOW AND NOT AT DUNHARROW WITH LOTHIRIEL AND ELFHILDA!!” 
Morwen might be old, but she was not yet so weak that she was on her deathbed and she still had strong lungs. If her yelling was not heard by others outside the closed door, they would be blessed. Faramir had to look towards the door to see if anyone would storm in, upon hearing the yelling from his future grandmother-in-law.
“It was not for personal glory, ealdermodur, I promise!” 
Somehow Éowyn managed to explain that she had wanted to avoid her brother dying in battle, and that little Elfhilda would lose her father while still being an infant too young to remember him. Morwen was still not impressed with the action of her granddaughter sans the detail of managing to slay the Witch-King of Angmar with some help from Merry, but she did agree that with how Éowyn herself was familiar with the pain of becoming an orphan, this personal reason was far better than an idealized idea of winning glory in battle as a soldier or dying a glorious death.  
“Éowyn, Faramir…if we somehow manage to win this war against the Dark Lord…” Morwen said with a strained smile that could mean anything for those who listened, “Then do everyone a favor and GET MARRIED AS SOON AS IT IS POSSIBLE!! You have been secretly betrothed for years thanks to Denethor being a stubborn fool and not accepting the idea of his younger son being more likely to marry than his oldest! Now when he is dead, stop wasting time and set up a household of your own! If I am intended by the Valar to live until I am one hundred years old, I want to see Elfhilda be joined in the nursery by a cousin from you two, you hear me?! I was 21 when marrying my Thengel and had Laywyn when I was the same age as Éowyn is right now, and Théoden entered the world two years later!” 
Given that Morwen had already been married and a mother at the same age, Éowyn realized that her maternal grandmother was honest in the belief that the best cure to her not repeating this, was marrying Faramir and setting up a household where their possible children would be raised. Besides, this sort of thinking was quite common in both Rohan and Gondor, in order to teach people that their behavior affected others as well.    
“Do not make me ride all the way to Minas Tirith and show that you are not too old to be canned with my walking stick for this action, young lady!” 
“Yes, ealdermodur…” 
Giving her granddaughter one last glare which promised that they had not had the last talk about this with running off in disguise without telling anyone and cause the whole family to become sick with worry about something terrible happening to her, Morwen muttered something about Éowyn “having too much free time” and clearly not being busy enough with her responsibilities back home in Meduseld, if she was running off into danger on a battlefield like a thoughtless adolescent, the sort of not-yet-of-age maidens who thought that they could impress others or prove themselves proper warriors with such behavior.
“I will stay here in Minas Tirith and not go anywhere, ealdermodur. It is not like either I or Faramir will be allowed to leave the Houses of Healing before we have fully recovered, anyway.” 
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Little snippet for @tolkiengenweek
Isengard swims in murky water, Mordor founders in ash, and yet there is still work to be done. The Fords of Isen are trampled and many villages between there and Helm’s Deep sacked or destroyed. Rohan has its fair share of wounded soldiers marching home. Some would count Éowyn among them.
Éomund’s daughter does not wish to be a soldier anymore and she has never been content with complacency. Her king begs her to recover, to rest. King he may be, and she’ll obey him, but he’s also her brother. His commands are subject to interpretation.
She haunts the wagons carrying the sick, watching, listening, helping. Where there are bandages to change, she changes them. When poultices need to be mashed, she happily obliges, relishing the twinge in her once-dead arm. It’s satisfying to come back from the brink, even more satisfying to have proof of resurrection.
Scars are evidence you survived, she assures her patients, and they believe her. After all, she killed the Witch-King. The hand that wipes their sweaty brows is a few degrees too cold, as if dunked in ice water. Despite of King Elessar’s efforts, she does not think the lingering touch of death will ever fade. 
The old man in charge of the train of invalids is cowed by her, the king’s sister. His middle-aged deputy, a spinster from Dunharrow who chose to follow an army to war, is not. She is a volva, a rural sort of witch that went out of fashion in Edoras when her grandmother Morwen lived there. Gondor has its own wise women, a stay at the Houses of Healing taught her that. It does not respect them as it should, preferring pompous loremasters and surgeons.
Éowyn knows the value of a knife. Some day she’ll return to the Houses of Healing and learn how to cut for the stone and pare away tumors. She might even tolerate a lesson from the intractable Warden, if he can be convinced to teach rather than lecture. For now, however, she’s determined to make herself a student of this witch.
It’s no easy task to convince her. The woods witch (her name is Ymma) either takes Éomer’s threats to tie her to a stretcher and carry her home far too seriously, or worse, agrees with him. Demonstrating her capacity through vigilante chores is only more proof of her sickness addled mind, as far as the woman is concerned.
“If you just narrate what you’re doing I won’t even stand up,” she negotiates, speaking loud to carry over the whimpers of injured men.
Ymma grimaces. “I shan’t wake the sleepers,”
“Then come over here,” Éowyn pleads. “Shouldn’t a lady know how to care for her people?”
That, of all tactics, works. The bowl balances at Èowyn’s hip, the little bags of herbs go next to her pillow, and Ymma shows her how to make a tonic for sleep.
“Poppy seed, would be good if we weren’t all out. Instead we’ve got hops, valerian…”
That night, for the first time in weeks, her dreams are easy.
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parmandil · 2 years
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‘Her malady begins far back before this day, does it not, Éomer?’ ‘I marvel that you should ask me, lord,’ he answered. ‘For I hold you blameless in this matter, as in all else; yet I knew not that Éowyn, my sister, was touched by any frost, until she first looked on you. Care and dread she had, and shared with me, in the days of Wormtongue and the king’s bewitchment; and she tended the king in growing fear. But that did not bring her to this pass!’
[...]
Then Éomer was silent, and looked on his sister, as if pondering ́ anew all the days of their past life together. But Aragorn said: ‘I saw also what you saw, Éomer. Few other griefs amid the ill chances of this ́world have more bitterness and shame for a man’s heart than to behold the love of a lady so fair and brave that cannot be returned. Sorrow and pity have followed me ever since I left her desperate in Dunharrow and rode to the Paths of the Dead; and no fear upon that way was so present as the fear for what might befall her. And yet, Éomer, I say to you that she loves you more truly than me; for you she loves and knows; but in me she loves only a shadow and a thought: a hope of glory and great deeds, and lands far from the fields of Rohan.’
really didn’t recall that this scene was just hit after hit after hit
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geetimesthree · 3 years
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I blitzed my old blog and redirected. It also blitzed my old follower list. I’m tired of being scrutinized by people who see me as a threat. So expect more stuff here I suppose. Here’s my old Hobbit/LOTR stuff. I’m sorry if you lost anything in the move, but if you reblogged it you should still have it anyway.
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farawyndaily · 3 years
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The Lord of the Rings Meme: Four Colors [2/4]
→ Green
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arofili · 2 years
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men of middle-earth ✦ middle men ✦ headcanon disclaimer
          The Men of the Mountains were descended from the first Men who wandered to the West in the First Age, but unlike the Three Houses of the Edain they never crossed the Blue Mountains into Beleriand. Instead they settled in the White Mountains, and over the centuries divided into several distinct groups, including the Bree-men, the Dunlendings, and the Mountain-men themselves.           Of all those kindreds, only the Men of the Mountains ever fell into Sauron-worship, fearing and revering the dark god who threatened conquest of the whole world. When the kingdom of Gondor was founded and Sauron’s might was contested, King Rioc felt hopeful that his people might be freed from the Shadow’s influence and agreed to meet with King Isildur upon the Hill of Erech. There Isildur had placed a great black globe, an Oath-stone, and Rioc swore upon the stone that he and his people would aid the Dúnedain in their time of need.           At that time Rioc was but a young man, newly come into his crown, and when Isildur called upon the Men of the Mountains to fulfill their Oath, he had fallen into old age, though his liege remained young and hale. His queen, Annaig, had recently died at the hands of Sauron’s orcs, and he saw this as retribution from the Dark God for straying from his worship. To make matters worse, his only daughter Bravantel had dallied with a Dúnadan soldier and had a child out of wedlock, ruining her prospects of marriage among her own people. All this culminated in Rioc’s refusal to honor his Oath, for which Isildur cursed him and his people to never find rest until they fulfilled their sworn duty.           Rioc dismissed this threat, and his people were relieved not to march to war against their Dark God, but upon their king’s death the true extent of Isildur’s curse was revealed. Though his body perished, his wraith endured, trapped in his mountain halls, and one by one each of his people followed him. No more children were born to the Mountain-men, and they grew to hate the living and curse their faithless king, and it was foretold by Malbeth the Seer that they would not find peace until they stood once more at the Stone of Erech and heeded the call of Isildur’s heir.           The wraiths of the Mountain-men haunted the caverns beneath the Dwimorberg and the valley of Harrowdale, and came to be known as the Paths of the Dead. None among the living who walked those paths ever returned to tell the tale; most notable of these foolish souls was Prince Baldor of Rohan, who endeavored to prove the Oath of his own fathers, much like the one taken by King Rioc, would not have such horrific repercussions if broken. Baldor embarked alone upon his journey into the darkness, where he was lost in an ancient temple of the Mountain-men to Sauron, starving to death after the vengeful ghosts broke his legs.            Baldor’s skeleton would not be discovered for five centuries, when Aragorn II Elessar embarked upon his own journey through the Paths of the Dead. Aragorn’s quest was marked by a different fate: he and his companions survived, for he was Isildur’s heir, and called upon the Oathbreakers to fulfill their oath at long last. King Rioc and his people had grown weary of their half-existence, and agreed to take up arms against Sauron as they had sworn to do. They joined Aragorn in his crusade through the south of Gondor, and for their aid Isildur’s heir granted them their freedom, and they vanished from the world, free to receive the Gift of Men after centuries of dwindling in the shadows of the mountains.
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Ghost king: so I’m supposed to respect you because you have a sword? Does it burst into flames?
Aragorn: no
Ghost king: it doesn’t even burst into flames
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hollywoodwhispers · 12 years
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"The dead? Summoned?! ... I knew that. Heh, heh. Very good, heh heh. Very good-- LEGOLAS!!"
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paigekniight · 5 years
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The Dead? Summoned?  ...I knew that.
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yranigami · 5 years
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Lord of the Rings
Dunharrow King
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