AstriaS

On 6/17/2023 at 4:35 PM, Frymark said:

Numêndil

Princess Caraneth quietly struck out the name on her copy of the invitation and wrote in its place 'Númendil' for the sake of her own perfectionism. "The other one is the funny letter," She said mostly to herself. "But at least I was invited, I love invitations."

Do you agree that Paul Bunyan is a kaiju?

"What?" queried Princess Caraneth.

"This is my favorite store in the Citadel," Said Princess Caraneth.

The First Feast of Númenost

An Invitation to All

Issued 6th of Snow’s Maiden, 132 SA

TO ALL WHO CARE TO ATTEND,

   It is with happy hearts that we Descendants have come, by GOD’s grace, to this new land and established for ourselves homes anew. And though there is no replacing, in any real fashion, that which we have left behind us – homes and loved ones alike – there is yet occasion to be merry and have festivity to mark our victory over our hardships. It is for this purpose that the Royal House Arthalionath of Númendil invites all who wish to join to a great feast to be held in celebration of the founding of our capital, Númenost the Fair. The feast is to be held in the great hall of the citadel of Minas Aranath within the White City, and any who wish to attend may do so and are welcomed to enjoy a banquet of the fine food and drink with which we have been blessed.

Special Invitations are extended to:

All Houses of the Númenedain, and citizens of Númendil

His Holiness, Sixtus V, Vicar of GOD, and all men of the Church

His Royal Majesty, King James I of Aaun and his citizenry

His Royal Majesty, King Georg I of Hanseti-Ruska and his citizenry 

His Highness, King Cyris of Dúnfarthing and his citizenry

Her Highness, Archduchess Renilde I of Petra and her citizenry

The Honorable, Duke Brandt Barclay, and House Barclay of Minitz

The Honorable, Shugo Oijin of Clan Kato, and the people of Sakuragakure

The Honorable, Count Markus Sarkozic of Aldersburg

The Paladins of the Order of the Golden Lion

Signed,

HER ROYAL HIGHNESS Caraneth Aryantë of the House Arthalionath, Princess of Númenost and Minas Amath

OOC:

Date & Time: 5:00 PM EST, Monday, June 12th

Location: The Citadel of Minas Aranath in Númenost (coords: 1032, 140, 1181)

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.

The Trials of Leadership

or

The Truth of the Events of the Exiles’ Isle

    When the men of Barrowton arrived weary upon the isle of exiles, having climbed their way out of those dreadful caverns below the earth, they were aimless indeed, and sought only to survive. Among them, however, was one who approached the challenge with unexpected spirit; none other than the young Princess Caraneth. Even the most mundane laying of bricks or raising of palisades she took to with a sense of glee, which much eased the hearts of those around her. And so, it was then the Knights of Barrowton, Ser Alwyn chief among them, resolved to make a test of it all, and so placed the young Caraneth in charge of this holdout they established – after all, they reckoned, it would be good to gauge the young Lady’s aptitude for leadership. However, in that land of anarchic chaos, the result was something to behold, and in the days and weeks that followed on the isle, a great many tales came to be told of the Princess’ exploits, almost all quite exaggerated – in no small part by spirited Caraneth herself. Hereafter is recorded the truth of the tale, stripped of its bombast and told in earnest.

    Most known, of course, is the war against the brigands. Alongside the Norlanders, the Halflings, the elves of Haelun’or, and a number of volunteers, the Princess of the Barrowlands rode into battle. Together, in the cause of law, order, and peace, they chased the brigands from their fortresses, and secured the surrounding hinterlands. And in the process there was conflict with the roving bands in the wastelands, though of these there is nothing of substance to recount. There were no grand, pitched battles as the brigands were few in number and chose flight for the sake of their own lives, and though those ne’er-do-wells were by many declared guilty of crimes most unholy, no truth was ever discerned on the matter. In truth, it was not even a war so much as a series of small scuffles, raids and chases. Yet Caraneth Aryantë took pride in the achievement, viewing even small victories as victories nonetheless.

    The conflicts with the isle’s native peoples as well were told in glowing, embellished words. Verily was the fighting with those disparate clans fierce, even against united Descendants of every race and creed. With blade and spell alike – and even calling upon the Dark Arts – the natives did struggle mightily to maintain their hold on the isle. Caraneth’s part in this was limited; one blade in the sea of battle. But still it served to prove her mettle, and her willingness to take up the sword. Though perhaps one or two of the natives may have been felled by her, it was largely a group effort that laid them low. As with the suppression of the brigands, however, the Princess again took heart in her achievements, proudly thinking herself alike to her father, Tar-Uriel, in her valor, small though her deeds may have been.

    Of the battle against the undead of the isle, the least of all was exaggerated, for that was the enemy which presented the greatest danger. Not a night passed upon the isle that worry did not linger, for often and unexpectedly would the necrotic beasts appear. With each wave, more and more of their black guts and ensorcelled bones would litter the ground, and it was against these enemies that the Princess truly showed to all the strength of her spirit. In the midst of one of the foul onslaughts, the Knights came to face a great giant wrought of the flesh from many corpses, stitched together by black sorcery. The creature stood some few meters taller than the largest of the knights, and it spoke in terrible, wordless groans. For a frightening time it tested their strength and their steel, until finally a Knight’s blade took one of its legs at the knee to sunder it and bring the monster low. Then daringly – or perhaps desperately – Caraneth began to scale its foundering form and latched onto the back of its shoulders. And finally, with a number of chops and sprays of foul gore, she loosed the beast’s rotting head from its shoulders, ending it finally, and for a short time after folk gave her the moniker ‘Giantslayer’. Even this glory, however, came to be short-lived and soon enough after it came time to once more depart for new lands.

    So is told the truth of the events of the Exiles’ Isle. Though the young Princess Caraneth was not quite a conquering hero worthy of song, she had nonetheless accomplished much in that place. Though Minas Amath, as she named their small holding, was not a radiant citadel – in fact it was but a small, fortified tower surrounded by cottages – it was yet a place where people’s spirits were eased and they could feel secure in spite of their recent misfortunes. And it was rightfully so that her deeds, exaggerated and less-than-grand though they were, earned her the title ‘Princess of Minas Amath’.

Powerful.

Alara Camian, usually quite icy in demeanor and unemotive, showed a rare hint of sadness upon hearing of Vesta's departure. "Unfortunate indeed that the Mori got in the way of my lessons with her... But I will hope that she is sufficiently armed with what I was able to impart. May the Spirits guide her well."

I love this creature and I need five of them.

Warlord-Princess Caraneth Aryantë had not yet even finished erecting her new border markers when the scouts told her of the mustering of natives in the wastes. As she had become accustomed to doing, she began frothing rabidly in bloodlust and warlike glee. "GOD Almighty as my witness, these axe-wielding, demon-summoning savages will be crushed beneath the iron boot of the Adunian!" She then proceeded to order a cadre of passersby to deliver a cart of rotting undead heads and entrails to the natives as a threat.

Princess Caraneth Aryantë Arthalion was still wiping the sleep from her eyes as she was informed of this. Needless to say, the young Warlord was very pleased to learn that she was winning even during nap time.

It Came From the Sea

Dated 18th of Snow’s Maiden, 130 SA

    As if cannibals, wasters, brigands and conjured demons were not enough, yet again Harren’s Folk have been tested! This time, however, our enemy was twice as evil and half as good-smelling. As in the Eastern Marches so too in the forests just beyond Minas Amath the dead were made to walk, and presaged by malicious laughter the shambling corpses did come to do us ill. Yet we of Minas Amath are not so easily taken, and most valiantly we took up shield and sword. By the Grace of GOD and our own skill at arms did we put those unholy beings to rest once more, slaying them in such numbers that the land became slicked with their black blood and rotting entrails. And yet still our trials had not yet ended, for soon after was conjured, by some unknown sorcery, a great three-headed demon of smoke and malice. Verily, to stand near it was to feel one’s lungs blacken. With the aid of forces unseen, however, this foul being too was laid low and Minas Amath was returned at last to peace. May the dark forces which set these beasts against us mark our fury and our might.

AURË ENTULUVA!

Signed,

Her Royal Highness, Caraneth Aryantë Arthalion, Princess of Minas Amath, Conqueror of the Failorian North, Scourge of the Undead, Giantslayer, Harrenite Warlord

Princess Caraneth Aryantë Arthalion could not help but feel that she had been passed over in this affair, but she was far too busy slaying giants to pay it much mind in any event. With all the violence she held in her youthful Warlord heart, she did indeed wish ill upon the baby-eaters.

The Troubles of the East

Dated 15th of Snow’s Maiden, 130 SA

Artist’s Depiction of the Giant

    Heed well, fair folk of beautiful Failor, for in the East there is evil. In our blessed coalition’s patrols of the newly secured Eastern Marches, we found not the cowardly cannibals we sought to drive from those lands, but rather the Undead. They stood sentinel upon the battlements of the abandoned fortress, and again we made entry, this time with holy work to be done. Yet, even as sword and axe cleaved necrotic flesh and shattered bone, a greater evil arose. From the earth was raised a great behemoth, a beast formed of the conjoined flesh of a great many corpses. But even in the face of such terror, not a man among that heroic band faltered, and least of all the mighty Princess Caraneth. With righteous fury in her heart, the young Harrenite Warlord set upon the beast. Putrescent flesh sloughed from its aged bones as she cut into it, and in vain she wailed upon the creature. At last, she resolved to scale the beast, climbing inch by up its form to finally drive her blade into its skull, and at last the giant was returned to the earth.

    To rest and tend their wounds, then, the gathered men returned to the Halfling village, whereupon they were joined by the Silver Elves of Haelun’or, much to their surprise and rejoice. Once well-rested, the men of the great coalition again set out, and once more they searched the Eastern Marches for their flighty quarry. Yet again did they catch the trail of those foul creatures and their grey-skinned, axe-wielding masters, and they tracked them into the blistering sands of the wasteland. There, they found and made war upon the cavern stronghold of these creatures. The Failorian natives and their demonic allies fought with the ferocity of rabid beasts, and back and forth their battle did rage. Great charging quadrupeds and flame-flinging wraith alike were in time felled, and the barbarian stronghold was scoured. Yet even then, the battles of the day were not yet ended, for when the warriors emerged from that cavern, they were faced with the roving madmen of the wastes. Though wearied by their many contests already, the brave and glorious men of the coalition again proved their mettle, and by skill at arms did they win, at last, a path to return to their homes.

Beware to those who travel in the East, for the troubles there are without cease.

AURË ENTULUVA!

Signed,

Her Royal Highness, Caraneth Aryantë Arthalion, Princess of Minas Amath, Conqueror of the Failorian North, Giantslayer, Harrenite Warlord

46 minutes ago, Zolla_ said:

As he smoked a pipe next to the halfling village and observed the coalition members who were preparing to ambush him and his envoys, Adaranth would glance at the missive with a smile. He would then turn to Friedrich and say, "These Norlanders, and Halflings, they definitely love punching air, they have been doing it a lot for the past two saints days," he'd laugh for a second before asking, "So.. Where to next?"

Princess Caraneth quietly looked over a report she had received from a loyal, handsome and brave coalition scout. "They went back down to the Underdark to hide from us? Quite the run, that."

Where Hides Our Enemy?

Dated 13th of Snow’s Maiden, 130 SA

TO THOSE RIGHTEOUS FOLK OF FAILOR,

    Let it be known to all that, in the face of the combined forces of Minas Amath, the Norlanders, the Hobbit-Lord’s host, and our blessed coalition’s auxiliaries, the Men of Darkness who dwell in Redclyf have been driven to such fear that they do not even muster to defend their holding. By heroic and valiant effort did a band of warriors make entry into their fortress, armed and ready to take the heads of the baby-eaters, yet even as we checked under the beds and in the closets, there was not even a pair of boots for the would-be defenders to quiver in! Thus, with their holding abandoned, and by the assent of the Thain Cyris, we do declare that the fort of the Redclyf folk is now under the dominion of Minas Amath. Henceforth, Ser Adrielle of Barrowton shall be appointed as the Military Governor of the Eastern Marches. To you Men of Darkness that yet hide from justice, submit yourselves before our authority, and face your impending crucifixions like men.

AURË ENTULUVA!

Signed,

Her Royal Highness, Caraneth Aryantë Arthalion, Princess of Minas Amath, Conqueror of the Failorian North, Harrenite Warlord

TO DO UNJOLLY THINGS

Issued Today (We lost our calendar.)

TO THE SUBJECTS OF MINAS AMATH,

    Dire is the news of the day. As has become known to we inhabitants of beautiful Failor, the men of Redclyf are alleged to have slain and consumed the flesh of infants, and to have as well menaced women whose children are yet unborn. And most troublingly, these savages dwell not in the far off corners of this land, but just beyond our eastern border. Needless to say, this looming shadow cannot be permitted to grow and fester. Already, the Norlanders – though they may yet refuse the mercy of our GOD Most Glorious – rally to the cause of righteousness. Let us march with them, Righteous Men of Minas Amath, to secure our border against these barbarians most wicked! May these Men of Darkness come to fear the blinding righteousness of the White Flame of GOD, the Retribution of the Archangel Michael, and the austere, blessed penance of the ‘T’!

AURË ENTULUVA!

DEATH TO THE BABY-EATERS!

BARBARORUM DELENDA EST!

Signed,

HER ROYAL MAJESTY, Caraneth Aryantë Arthalion, Princess of Minas Amath, Harrenite Warlord

Caraneth, Princess of Minas Amath, thinks that this will surely affect the trout population, and so she laments.

The Raising of Minas Amath

Dated 24th of the Amber Cold, 129 SA

TO THOSE WAYWARD,

    Let it be known to all that in the Northwest of this brave new land we Descendants have set upon, there has been raised the great fortress of Minas Amath. Those who seek shelter from the elements and good earth to till we do invite to share in the safety and security of our newly conquered lands. Those who wish for farmland may be granted such, in exchange for a tithe of their crop. Furthermore, we extend a promise of shelter to any men of the cloth who may yet lack accommodation in this place most untamed. Beneath the stalwart battlements of our fortress tower, may all find an easy, fulfilling life as we leave behind our lost homes in Almaris.

Signed,

Her Royal Highness, Caraneth Aryantë Arthalion, Princess of Minas Amath, Harrenite Warlord

I prefer past tense mostly because I think that my emotes sound and feel better that way, and it feels more like a story.