Lenny

Argelion Zôrzagar, The High King of Idunia, was proud to observe the work of the Sword of Owyn. He looked forward to finally concluding the journey for the squires who had been waiting for so many years to ascend!

“At least they finally realized they are no longer ‘superior’ to Man.” Argelion Zôrzagar, The High King of Idunia, replied to the Crown Prince of the Empire of Man, Hadrian Tiberias, as he tapped the bowl of that smoking pipe in his hand. @Werew0lf

Númendil as a nation has stood the test of time, by facing enemies of the faith, man and creation. Formed by my great-grandfather, Tar-Numenetar or simply Uther, it was made clear to him the purpose and redemption of our people after the sin of Harren of what he had to do and in his tenure his daughter, Tar-Caraneth, saw to fulfill and upkeep his mission in wars and purpose alike. Through many years, sons and daughters, this mission was soon fulfilled by the hands of my father; Anorhil Carandir, who brought it to a conclusion and sanctified our lands from the mistakes of our progenitor. During the tenure of his High Holiness Harrentzadek, my father, Tar-Carandir, began his ministry for the preservation of the Temple and the stewardship of the Pontifical States, organizing the allies, policies and politics of the Curia as well as becoming a stalwart theologian to bolster the Temple’s authority. Notable families such as the Glennmaers and Vourkehardts were crucial for the support behind the throne, lending great strength within Númendil to secure its own position to aid the Temple. At the tumultuous occasion of the renewed Schism War, Númendil and Burgundy remained the last two faithful thrones, preserving the priesthood, restoring the Temple and finally ending the Hyperwar. Though this was soon followed by a sly attempt by yet another case of churchly feudism, it soon saw conclusion by the hand of the righteous; the True Faith. And in the present day, having stood before man in the clash of steel, seen the Númenedain act and thrive, the tradition of our people take hold, it has become clear; the day has come. “The twenty-first year after the fall of the holiest city, the Lord’s Aengul Artifai descended before Harren and spoke with him. The Aengul said ‘Harren, you are chosen for the vocation of your father. Come, and receive the Lord’s prophecy.’“ Book of Scattering, 31 - 32 The Church, since my birth, has been problematic in service to the Númenedain on the common grounds with frequent visits from the clergymen and soldiers of holy purpose who claim righteous involvement, only to overstep boundaries. The familiarity with abuse of position, and power, which has caused a rift to form between my people and the Church’s mission. The question of the faith’s involvement in the realm, the station and vocation of King and Queen, Prince and Princess, Knight and Ranger, et-cetera, it all boils down to the core creation of Aeradar, the pious nature of man and the virtuous path which the Númenedain have followed till this day, yet has frequently been disturbed. And even in the face of this disturbance, the people have always answered the call of battle and the pursuit to correct the wrongs of the realm. However, to be faithful is not merely to kneel in the temples or echo the prayers of our fathers, it is to live in a covenant with the Creator, to raise one's blade in face of injustice, offering mercy in the shadow of cruelty, and to stay true to one’s word. Each vocation is a liturgy, each labor a prayer, each act of virtue a psalm sung unto the skies. And even when the Church falters, the people remain steadfast in their beliefs. Where leaders have stumbled, the faithful have stood. And even in the face of the disturbances which threaten the peace, the pious path is never broken. This has been the station of the Númenedain for so long, and what it means to be faithful, to be Idunian. Yet, even in the face of such declarations and in the face of some of its servants have faltered, the institution itself has long stood as a pillar of our nation and it is through its order that kingdoms have risen, wars have been halted, and most importantly, justice has gained its place. To dismiss the Church entirely is to ignore the source from which our people have both drawn strength and solace from. It is, without question, the compass which has pointed us toward righteousness. Therefore, as we press onward into the uncertain, but certain, future, allow the truth that the Church, for all its issues, remains bound to us and us to it. Prayers that echo, rituals for remembrance, and the thread of faith which draws us all together; unified toward a greater future. From the moment of my birth, I was prophesied and elevated in the path of some grand quest which I did not understand then, but it has become clear to me now. The mantle of Númendil has weighed heavy upon my shoulders, yet Aeradar does not burden a man without granting him the strength to bear it, and the trials which followed came swiftly, and by Providence were met with steel, resolve and faith which naturally saw victory. It was I who brought the Númenedain to the long delayed slaying of the Gilded Queen, once the emblem of the House Pendraic, my great-grandfather’s line, and brought to heel by the very blade wielded by his hand. Its death marked the triumph of the son over the drakelings, declaring the rulership which was to come. It was I who stood within the fractious lands of the Norns, where the word “honor” was long thought folly. Yet, by the united hand of man- led by Providence- the realms of Norland found themselves drawn into the Empire. It was I who took the call to face the rebellion of the Sigismundites, at the call of a dear friend and ally, when the state of Drusco sought to defy order and faith. With our banners raised, I called forth our allies and people who answered; the Eulers who roared and cut through the air unmatched, the Petrans of cut through like an unstoppable river, the Vourkehardts who stampeded forth upon their steeds, the scyflings of House Colborn who rallied beneath the command of their Knight and Commander, and the many- many soldiers of Idunia who stood shoulder by shoulder, as brothers and sisters, ready to protect the innocent and correct the wrongs of the ‘usurpers’. Girded by the fellowship of our Princes and Peers, united beneath cause, treachery was struck down and proved once more that the Idunian do not stand alone. Númendil as a realm has never been a perfect creation, mistakes have been made throughout its journey and certainly by my own hand. It has been a lesson to take with us, as a people, into the future as we continue forth our legacy and the new age beckons us in. All these victories are not mine alone, but the inheritance of a people who have endured. Númendil, at its core, has shown itself too great, too resolute, and too sanctified to remain bound to this simple station. We have slain beasts and foul spawn of darkness. We have tamed rebellion and war. We have gathered allies and nations. We have always answered the call. Therefore, by the right of blood and divine sanction and the will of my people, I, Argelion Zorzagar, Prince of Idunia and King of Númendil, hereby declare: The High Kingdom of Idunia has been formed. A new age dawns, and the people of Númendil shall now be the people of Idunia; tested by prophecy and trial but guarded by the faith which has united humanity. The birth of a Kingdom whose roots lie deep within redemption, and has long endured in the path to redeem with its trunk being faith and now whose branches shall stretch across generations. With its formation, the new capital of Idunia shall carry the name of ‘Alduun’, standing as the center of the tribes and bringing the name to life once more. Númendil shall be, unless declared otherwise, be afforded to one of my children to maintain; both culturally and ensuring the legacy remains intertwined with our people as the formation of Idunia shall not be forgotten nor left behind; it will be ingrained. With heraldry carefully painted by the excellent hand of Ser Heledd of Garenbrig, Idunia shall pridefully host her work upon its banners, allowing them to flow in the winds for the prosperous future ahead. Her work has solidified the leap forth, and ensuring the history of Númendil remains upon our very flag. Signed, HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, Tar-Zôrzagar Argelion Anorion Harren Arthalion, High King of Idunia, Prince of Númendil, Chief of the Númenedain and the Tribe of Harren, Defender of the Númenaranyë, Sovereign of Númenost and Alduun, Knight of the Realm, Slayer of the Gilded Queen, Master of the Sharadûn, Protector of the Adunians THE HONOURABLE, Ser Heledd Calenthan Glennmaer of Tir-Glas, Templar Justiciar of Saint Michael the Archangel, Knight of the Realm & Order of the Dawn, Lady of Tir-Glas

Argelion Zôrzagar, The High King of Idunia, grimaced upon observing the Xionist drivel pinned upon a wall which regarded this Synod as a ‘great’ one and words about ‘Black Gods’. His hand rose to tear it down, and chucked it far off into the distance before he wandered on!

Issued and averred by the office of the MAGISTER MILITUM & HIGH INQUISITOR BENEATH THE LOFTY ELVEN CITY Under HAELUNOR is naught but ROT, and what lies beneath is only the true form of the surface. The Sohaer has been complicit in hiding the daemon underneath their city since the initial colonization of the land. From miles across the continent, those with the nose to smell it could feel its lingering scent tingling their sense and causing disturbance. It had become akin to common knowledge that the proceedings beneath the city were transpiring, so say many in the number of Alduun, which aided in the razing of daemonic constructions, so say they that even the King of Idunia knew and wished to extrapolate them; however, there was no strike, until this Saint’s Day. WHAT LAY BENEATH Upon arrival at the gates of Haelunor, Prince Llewyn and Lord Vander demanded entry to the city with their retinue in tow; however, surprising both figures, the Haelunorians denied entry and spake: “We need not let you in, we are a sovereign entity; come back when you’ve a meeting with our Sohaer . . .” This, however, was not enough to stop the host, scaling the walls where they found entry. After some time, a hovel was found on the outskirts of the city. Sorvians aiding the darkspawn were brought before it and asked to open it- when they refused the bars before the part were instead cut down- so too the Sorvian was put to the sword for their false denials. Beneath the city abounded a labyrinth of devices which the malificar utilized. Children stolen from their beds in the night, stragglers on the road ambushed by daemon. What lay beneath the settlement of Haelunor was nothing more than the largest cultic amalgamation within settled lands. While the forces of His Imperial Majesty’s Inquisition, Alduun, Garenbrig, and the Trostine Guard smashed away at evil shrines, many of the city’s inhabitants- Elven residents and Sorvian constructions began to run, for they knew that if they stayed, they would be slaughtered for the complacency and active abrasion to the forces of good they had shown. A depiction of the daemonic shrines found beneath the city. WHAT BECOMES OF ROT What becomes of ROT when found in a home? What becomes of a parasite when located on the host? The rot is removed, the parasite extracted. This is not the only pit of festering worms; there are more. Thus, the order has been given, those of faith you are compelled: SEEK AND DESTROY. SUMMONS: THE SOHAER AND OFFICIALS OF HAELUNOR ARE CALLED TO STAND TRIAL IN ALDUUN. FAILURE TO COMPLY WILL RESULT IN THE COMPLETE DESTRUCTION OF THE CITY AND THE DISPLACEMENT OF ITS POPULATION. SATURDAY 5PM EST A depiction of the Righteous Host before the daemonic shrines. AVE IMPERIUM! H V M A N I T A S I N V I C T A “Für Gott und Kaiser,” HIS IMPERIAL HIGHNESS, Hadrian Tiberias of the House Horen, Crown Prince of the Empire, Prince of Burgundy, Lord Justiciar of the Imperial Privy, Duke of Grense. HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, Tar-Zôrzagar Argelion Anorion Harren Arthalion, High King of Idunia, Prince of Númendil, Chief of the Númenedain and the Tribe of Harren, Defender of the Númenaranyë, Sovereign of Númenost and Alduun, Knight of the Realm, Slayer of the Gilded Queen, Master of the Sharadûn, Protector of the Adunians ALEA IACTA EST HIS EXCELLENCY, Aetius Vanderius, Legate of Legion II. Magister Militum of the True Faith. VAE VICTUS

Argelion Zôrzagar, The High King of Idunia, smiled the sun’s smile upon hearing the news from his dear friend, Iudas. That veiled hand of his rose, signing the ✠︎ Rhodesian Cross ✠︎ before he continued on his way with a mutter to himself ... “May Aeradar’s light continue to guide the Magistry and our people. The banners of virtue shall continue to flow in the winds within Alduun. GOD WILLING! GOD WILLING!”

[!] A missive is posted upon the city boards and carried by ravens to neighboring vassal keeps and taverns, the parchment clearly carrying a smell of spice and wet leaves whilst being faintly damp. 🕯️To the Templars, Knights, and … of course … wayfarers; With the settling upon this island, the tasks of delivering goods and items back to its recipients have been of paramount importance! However, my caravans have been met with … delays … during their travels, which needs to be corrected. Therefore, even though as much as it pains me, I need capable men and women to aid in the delivery. The withered trees, where the sun seldom breaks, are often concealed by the island’s fog and my men have spoken of shapes moving within the mists, distant howls, and company-men who have disappeared during loading. Still! Coin always beckons courage, and those who bear witness to this missive are invited to escort the Veerlan Caravan to its destinations … with potential for payment. The merchants are … wary, and the rumors certainly have spooked them. Thus, capable hands are sought.

Argelion Zôrzagar, The High King of Idunia, has always reached out to the Prince of Tir-Glas, formerly Garenbrig, through many ventures. Their expertise within the martial, and the willingness to explore the unknown was inspiring even if he did not express it to them quite enough. The memory of riding atop the back of the Prince’s steed in the battle against the Gilded Queen, and through the ventures into bloodshed shoulder-by-shoulder … how could he not regard them highly? “Their people’s courage burns bright,” Argelion commented to his father near, Carandir. “May GOD-Aeradar- bless them, and ensure good health till the end of our days as he always has, as dawn follows dusk.”

Argelion Zôrzagar, The High King of Idunia, smiled the sun’s smile upon the thought of the Eulers, a family whose proficiency with arms had proven more than necessary within the recent battles and he recalled the brief interaction with one ‘Stefan Euler’ and his babbling of a Turtle Knight. “Funny,” he mumbled to himself, before continuing on with his day. Perhaps to go visit the settlement of Adria!

aura

aura

why do you wear chains on the train?

Argelion Zôrzagar, The King of Idunia, jumped in joy after the news of finally leaving Aevos reached him.

The King of Idunia, Argelion Zôrzagar, returned to Minas Aranath to take his rest. The battles' aftermath, the parley with the captures, and the shedding of blood upon his own royal soil had certainly wearied him deeply and demanded respite. In the stillness that followed he wondered, so greatly, what had become of the hawks? @Samateur

VICTORY REIGNED UPON THE 7TH OF THE AMBER COLD, 247 S. A. https://youtu.be/ZUqBglpHTO0?si=3IhnN_8Bi7WO4y32 ROM THE MARENO’S guard post within the Imperial city of Grense, the host of Idunia assembled, banners of their arms lofted high– snapping in the wind across the heights. The levies of the Principality of Myrine and Blackvale alongside them, each soldier’s heart steeled by the promise of vengeance on behalf of long-mourning grievances. At the head rode CALIAS II, Princely-Heir of Myrine, commanding the warband, flanked by his mother, the steel-clad Princess MADELIEF. From the centre, SIR GHETSIS MARENO and CAPTAIN VANDER raised their war cries, and the lord of horses AROKAS intoned a throat-song, a chant that threaded through the cries across the valley. The warband thundered upon the road to Silasia, hooves drumming the earth. The Druscans, quivering behind their fragile parapets, trembling in their false fortifications, had called themselves warriors; yet they were soon revealed as mere baying curs, cowering behind walls that were nothing more than their kennels. Arrows blackened the sky as the first volleys fell; shields raised, hammers rang against steel, and the clash of blades echoed like the judgment of GOD. The Druscans sallied out of their hole, floundering and faltering, their horses stumbling as easily as their courage, riders flung to the dust of their own hubris. Their fleeting defiance was ground beneath our boots; ladders scaled walls that could not shield them from the grip of our wrath. The Druscans charged once more, pitiful and desperate, only to shatter under the weight of inevitability. Close by, MARTIUS and CAROLUS VAN AERT held their levies steadfast, while RUDI KIRK AND HELMER swept along the flanks of the keep, cutting through the Druscan ranks as easily as wind through wheat. The Sword of Owyn, VALANÓR VOURKEHARDT, and his father, DUKE VIAGO VOURKEHARDT, lent their seasoned experience to the charge, guiding the Númenedain host to the siege that would ultimately collapse the Druscan defenses with terrifying efficiency. Here and there, the shadow of SER HELEDD’S hammer ablaze, struck men to their knees. FREDERICK EULER and his retinue of Eulers struck through their forces with uncontested conviction. At the forefront, ROGER, consumed by his own impotent fury, found no succor; His men laid down their arms, abandoning him, leaving him cornered and humiliated within his own keep, wherein the Archduke and his son had bound him, then SUDDENLY, he vanished before their very eyes, as if swallowed by the shame of his own failure. Others, desperate to rescue him, were driven into the inner keep, bound and brought low, the fortress itself a witness to the futility of their pride. Ranks dissolved, cries of panic rose and fell, and nearly all were bound in chains, their spirit subdued. By day’s end, fifty-five had become just three, the Druscan host captured and their pretensions shattered. Walls, arms, and arrogance alike were brought low beneath the iron will of the Myrine, the Númenedain, and their allies of Blackvale and Ubersreik. Prisoners were gathered within the fortress of Minas Aranath, released only to bear the bitter memory of their UTTER defeat. L E T I T B E W R I T T E N: The Blackvale Levyman, REINHARD BEHR, has felled a hundred in this battle. ROGER vanished. The Druscan spine has been crushed beneath the weight of their pride, devoured by the very hands of those they dared defy. Idunia stands eternal, unbroken, its justice a shadow that shall haunt the Druscan memory until the end of their days.

The flame had gone out. Argelion knew this day would come … how could he not? Uther had lived longer than any mortals in his station had the right to, serving a century and more past the measure of Kings. Too, the state he had seen in recent years, it was all a matter of time. It is a … bitter thing. A legend, remembered across our city with statues and through the staples of traditions which my own blood- father, grandmother, sisters, brothers, cousins and all of our people engage and learn from. I could never put into words how much faith I held in you, and I wish even now in the wake, that I had grasped the moments to cherish for my own children and to carry the tale of your quests for our next generation. Argelion’s hand laid against his temple as whispers continued. A long breath was drawn, with the threat of tears continuing to hang in the air … You witnessed too many of my mistakes, and still, you exercised restraint and love. I could never forget you and I grieve, O great-grandfather. Yet ... though it is difficult-- I will not mourn, for that I reserve for those lost beyond reach. And you, even if you are now gone from our touch, your spirit will always remain with our people and of that I am certain with our patron. Where you fell, in the sword you raised, in the House you have established, in the blood we all share, in the stubborn flame that burns in the blood of our kin. I have no doubt that Malchediael and Jophiael shall house you well, perhaps better than any of us ever could. Your spirit shall live on with the Arthalionath and the Númenedain. And yet, knowing this, I still weep. I did not think I would, but when the tidings reached, I felt the breath leave my chest as though a spear had finally made its mark. Only the young boy who wished he might have sat at your side, and been told a tale or given advice. I think of the stories I had not asked, the wisdom I had not sought, the chance to hear your voice one last time. And to the Númenedain, our House, and Aeradar; our line shall not fall and your memory will not fade. We shall stand, as you once stood, for the helpless and our people, until the very end. The future will continue to burn brightly in your wake, and your legacy shall continue to be whispered in the very forests of the Godswood, carried with our people till the end of our days. For Idunia “Rest well, great-grandfather, in name and in spirit.” “May Aeradar’s blessings continue to stay with you, even beyond our reach.” “Lothron i Arat car Arthalionath vedui uir.” Tar-Zôrzagar’s hand fell down to the blade at his side, the promise which never saw fulfilled. A deep breath escaped him as he set out to leave the halls of Minas Aranath, in pursuit of both his grandmother, Caraneth, and the call to battle was developing with the mountain and the middlemen alike. Thoughts carried with, and the blood which stained his path was not far behind. To do right by family and people was the priority now, to see peace and prosperity among the Numenedain, and it would come.

uncle oldhead lol

@KidKrinkles congratulations.

bladee or thaiboy

A COLBORN’S KNIGHTING, S.A 243 After their settlement within the Númenaranyë, The Colborn had dedicated themselves to a series of quests in the name of Aeradar by the guidance of Tar-Carandir, where they set out to re-claim their honor and virtue. Now, one has set themselves on the path of redemption to re-earn their title of Knighthood and to take the vow to act in the best interest of not only himself, but our Creator too. Years have passed since the war, and now it was time to claim and start anew. In the pursuit of cultivating our tether to the patron of our nation, Caspian of House Colborn went through the Rite of Knighthood as one of the first. Caspian raised a blade from his back, a longsword wrapped in blackened leather. “This blade may not look like much, however its history is something to be known, see this blade I wielded against the people of Númendil in the war for Haense, its metal is coated in the blood of your brothers, I sacrifice this because it is not the history that I shall keep, my service to Númendil has been pure and will continue to be so, without our violent history clouding such.” - “I burn this blade in the name of those it felled, alongside my own blood” Caspian drew the metal from the sheath and ran it along his hand, causing the crimson ichor to once more coat the steel. “We burn as one.” With the well of Malchediael roaring with the divine intensity it contained, Caspian approached the well and laid his blade into the flames, allowing it to melt away and be consumed. Tar-Zôrzagar stepped closer to the bonfire, where he reached out for a pair of tongs to place the ring within and held it over the searing-flame. The ring would quickly begin to take upon the heat, turning to a golden white hue. . . The gauntlet was removed, and with the Errant’s Code sworn, the Ring of the White Tree was placed over his finger, burning through flesh and bone. However, even through the cruel act, the now-Knight stood tall, unwavering none, remaining STALWART and FAITHFUL. The Oath had been sworn, duties concluded, and Ser Caspian Beowulf Colborn III now rose as a Knight of the Realm.

Declarations of The Harren Court Issued the 12th, in the Year 240 of the Second Age FOREWORD By decree of His Royal Highness, Argelion Zôrzagar Anorion Harren Arthalion, let it be proclaimed throughout the realm that a royal court shall be convened within the halls of Minas Aranath, wherein matters of great import–such as the appointment and the continued guidance of our institutions–shall be presented and discussed. This missive serves to inform all subjects of the topics to be addressed at the forthcoming court, issued under seal and signed by the royal hand. I. The recent change in the station of Her Distinguished Excellency, Athaenis Vourkehardt, and the responsibilities henceforth entrusted to her by the Crown will be addressed during court. II. The position of Hand of the Crown shall be conferred upon another individual, with the appointment to be formally addressed during court. III. The positions of Royal Speaker and Master of Ledgers shall be conferred upon new appointees, with their appointments to be addressed during court. IV. Matters concerning the realm’s military, its chivalric orders, and the recent threat across Aevos concerning The Mountain shall be discussed before the court. V. Vassals of the Realm which have not been ennobled are formally summoned to court to be properly ennobled and affirm responsibilities entrusted to them. @Smol@Barbarus@resurectionist IN WITNESS WHEREOF, the parties hereto have executed this agreement as of the day and year first above written. Signed, His Pious Majesty, Tar-Anorhil Carandir Antonius Caranethion Harren Arthalion, by the Blessings of Aeradar, Apostolic King of Idunia, High Priest of the Temple of the True Faith, Successor of Saint Clement, Chief of the Númenedain and the Tribe of Harren, Master of the Sharadûn, Templar Justiciar of Saint Michael the Archangel, Knight of the Realm, Protector of the Adunians and the True Faith. HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Argelion Zôrzagar Anorion Harren Arthalion, Crown Prince of the Númenaranyë, Prince of Idunia, Vicar of the Apostolic King, Templar of Saint Michael the Archangel, Knight of the Realm, Slayer of the Gilded Queen HER DISTINGUISHED EXCELLENCY, Athaenis of the House Vourkehardt, High Chancellor of the White Throne, Steward of the Númenaranyë, Warden of the Harren Court, Lawgiver of Harren, Founder of Grimday Day, Champion of the Lowland Grasp, Slayer of the Gilded Queen