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QUENTA NÚMENIAD - The Chronicle of the Númenedain


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The Chronicle of the Númenedain

Penned by

Caraneth Aryantë Arthalion


 


Prologue

   Hereafter is recounted in detail the full chronicle of the Númenedain, told through the lens of a hero’s epic, as is deserved. Yet, one cannot know in truth the meaning of the word Númenedain without knowing first the origins of that people. In the most ancient reaches of their heritage, the folk of Númendil foremostly trace their lineage to Harren the Conqueror, forefather of the Adunic people, and his Kingdom of Idunia. Known to all of course are that ancient warlord's crueler, unclean deeds, and rightly they are held in utmost revilement. Alas, even a sinful father is nonetheless a father, and so he is remembered in cautious solemnity. From Harren's Men do the Númenedain take inspiration in tongue, in dress, and in architecture, but in little else are they similar, for so too have they learned from the Middle-Men in ways of governance and faith especially. And, in fact, not all – though they do form the greater part – of the Númenedain are of Adunic blood, and among them there is a peopling of Adunians, Middle-Men, and even some few Elves, though the latter is rare indeed. Most directly, the Men of Númendil are the children of the Harren'hil who dwelt in Almaris, making their lives as rangers and warriors in their lands of Cartref Mor.

 

    When first the Harren’hil rose to notice, they were led by their Lord Nauthon, who in Common was known as John of the House Marsyr. In those times, the Harren'hil yet strayed from the path of our God Most Mighty, and so despite honorable intention were eventually swayed to darkness. Still yet did honorable hearts dwell among them however, and of those rose to prominence the one known as Uthyr, who is today Tar-Númenatâr Foronathor, and who in those times was but a common knight and mercenary soldier. In the course of his years, by wisdom and might, he who would become king did gather the Harren’hil to his banner, and in so doing, brought them into our Lord's flock. Serving first in the Great Strife of the Middle-Men, and then going on to raise a kingdom from the earth upon the dark-plagued plains of the Barrowlands, he did become far-known, first as knight, then as hero, and finally as King. So began the rise of the Númenedain.


Chapter I.

Exodus of the Númenedain

 

   When the Harren’hil took flight from the darkened lands of Almaris, they traveled not by sea but beneath the earth, driven under by sword, by spear and by encroaching night. Below they traveled, and in nigh endless caverns, black of stone and limned only by the glow of alien fungi, they came to dwell. Feeding upon tasteless lichen and the unscaled fish of the sunless lakes, they languished in that place, bereft of sun and wanting for warmth. Yet even in that darkest of realms, Harren’s Folk did not lose sight of the glory of God, and so inspired onwards did they press. By torch and lantern they braved the shadowed halls below the earth, they walked in long-emptied strongholds and they made battle with sightless beasts of the dark like no other. The Night would not take them, though certainly it did try.

 

   So long did the Harren’hil linger in the stygian depths that many indeed lost mind of day and night’s passing, yet by will, by persistence, and by providence they once more found the Sun’s light. Again, at long last, they were in company of verdant grass, vibrant skies, and waves that lapped at the white-sanded beaches. Spilling out into this land in rejoice, they set to exploration, and in time they established a tower stronghold which came to be known as Minas Amath. Here they dwelt only briefly, yet the conflicts were of some magnitude nonetheless, and they fought off undead, brigand and native alike. Once more, however, the time came to move on to other shores, and so they set to the sea and soon enough the Adunians once more found themselves upon solid earth. In their survey of this new land, the wanderers traveled the banks of a great river, butted on either side by great cliffs of dark stone, and soon they did find a sight most awesome; a grand mountain of shining white, at the foot of which lay an earthen bridge spanning the gorge with jagged, natural arches to hold its mass above the waters below. And here the Harren’hil came to meet another race of Men, though quite unlike themselves. These Sharadûn, as they came to call them, were a strange folk, their faces tawny and scorched by the sun, their dwellings made in houses of stone as well as tents of hide and woven wool. For a time, there was peace between them, and the Harrenites were welcomed happily among the Sharadûn. Yet, it came to pass that venom rose in the hearts of their hosts.

 

   In fear that the Adunians sought to bring them down by treachery and cast them out of their lands, the most dark-hearted among the Sharadûn drew their knives under cloak of night. Striking in secret, they sought to drive the Harren’hil from their holdings, yet did not expect to be met with such resistance as was mustered by the wanderers. Though at first put on the backfoot, the Adunians soon rallied to their king, and the Sharadûn’s fear was by their own hand made manifest. With blade and shield, those that stood against Tar-Uriel and his folk were felled, and those who remained made to bend the knee. Where once their city stood, another was erected, its bricks carved from the white stone of the mountain, and the shrines of heathen gods were demolished and supplanted by a great cathedral to honor the Lord Almighty. It was then finally that Tar-Uriel, who once was Uthyr Pendraic, swore his oaths upon the peak of the White Mountain, Alkayaban, and took for himself the name Tar-Númenatâr, and his new domain he named Númendil. And it was then that those who once were known as the Harren’hil took on the name Númenedain.


Spoiler

Hello there! This will be a running, irp record of Númenedain history that I plan to add chapters to as things develop going forward. Check back soon.

 

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good luck on this project astria!

 

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The Silver Tree, Caladhril

 

Chapter II.

Of Caladhril and Carnowindil

 

   Of the traces of Sarai’s folk which linger amongst the Adunians of the modern day, not the least is a love for the natural world and the trees which populate and lord over its forests. Over the years, trees came to great prominence in Adunic art and iconography – and there was a time even when the felling of trees was held in such distaste that it became more law than superstition. Ever were their homes built around forests, and ever did they seek to treat kindly the land upon which they dwelled. And though they have as a people have eschewed such druidic trappings, this adoration for the forests remains, and nowhere is it seen more prominently than in the prayer gardens of the Númenedain. In these tranquil sanctuaries, there dwell a good many species of tree and flower carefully tended and cultivated for their beauty. Of these many plants, however, the most known are the Two Trees of Númenost, Caladhril the Silver and Carnowindil the Red. The latter of the two descended from a stock of tree long-known to the House Arthalionath, but the former was a peculiar thing, first found by Tar-Númenatâr atop the mountain Alkayaban. Hereafter are detailed the lives of the trees, and how they came to dwell before the blessed doors of the Temple of Saint King Caius.

 

   The tree which stood nearest to the entrance of the Temple was Carnowindil, and it as well was the elder of the two. As all trees of its kind – Heart Trees, they are called – it bore a canopy of low-hanging, crimson leaves and ran with sap of the same hue, and it grew rotund and gnarled in the trunk. Grown from a seedling, Carnowindil was of the same stock of the Heart Tree that stood in the godswood of Cair Pendraic, the castle of Tar-Númenatâr Foronathor when he still was known as Lord Uther. Recovered in the aftermath of the castle’s sinking, the tree which itself was unnamed gave rise to two seedlings; one grew well, and the other began its life frail and slow-going. For a blessing, these two seedlings then were carried along, surviving the journey under earth and over sea to the land of Aevos seeming by fortune alone. And with the founding of Númenost beneath Alkayaban, the now-blooming saplings were again given to the earth. The larger and stronger of the two, it was decided, was to be planted amongst the trees of the Aran-în-Eryn – which means King’s Wood – where it might flourish. It remained unnamed. The weaker of the pair, then, was planted before the White City’s cathedral where it might be tended with due care. And by a blessing, it grew strong then, and its leaves no longer grew pale, and its boughs grew with vitality. It was then that it was named Carnowindil, the Red Tree.

 

   Though the heart tree was beautiful in its own right, it was Caladhril that was the fairer and it became known as the Silver Tree. This tree was a peculiar sight indeed at its discovery, for no other of its like had been seen in the time of those who came upon it. With a marble-white body and silver leaves which shone gently alike to moonlight cascading over rippling water, it was by all accounts a thing of singular beauty.  Found not long following the arrival of those who would soon become the Númenedain, it stood as a solitary sapling atop the peak of the White Mountain,  no more than a few feet in height, and when first approached by Tar-Uriel, who now was named Tar-Númenatâr, the tree inexplicably made notice of his presence. In a moment of peculiarity, a single ivory blossom grew then upon its branches, and deposited itself gently at the King’s feet. At once it was given its name, Caladhril, and thereafter, the peculiar tree was uprooted with care and placed within the gardens, just within sight of its crimson counterpart, Carnowindil. For curiosity’s sake, the tree’s seeds were harvested for planting, but were found to grow slowly and to often become sickly. In despite of hardship however, some few survived – though they grew slowly, and seldom grew to any great size – and the kin of Caladhril were named Círdalas, or the Silver-Leaf tree in Common. 

 

   There in the Temple’s garden Caladhril thrived, and it was seen, on occasion, to drop more of its blossoms, marking the presence of newborn babes carried past it, and shedding a fair few blossoms during the city’s first celebrations. For this uncanny ability to take notice of auspicious occasion, Caladhril as well became known as the Seeing Tree, and it dropped many of its blossoms for children, knights and  newlyweds alike. Its most notable gift, however, came at the laying of the final brick within the citadel of Minas Aranath, whereupon it dropped not a blossom, but a branch. It was straight, sturdy and ungnarled, and measured no more than a yard in usable length. Hewn and carved then was the branch of Caladhril, and fashioned into a scepter crowned with an ornament wrought of silver from the mines below Alkayaban, and set with the fairest diamond from the trove of the Sharadûn Khagan. Then completed, the scepter was gifted to the Númenedain King and was named Argaladhael, and it became a symbol of his rule.


 

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