The Rise and Fall of Calimendil, Fifth King of Cardolan

[rowanberry]

There's more about Mt. Gundabad in Of Dwarves and Men in HoME 12; I'll provide a couple of quotes tomorrow, if nobody else gets there before I do. But now, unfortunately, I don't have time to dig them up.

[Celebrimbor32]

Hail, Simple_Poet, and well met again! I say again, as you and I have met before on these boards, though you may not know it just yet ...Oh ok, I'll give you a hint: my other screen-name has the initials of W_D and I recently took a long road trip from Washington state to Indiana. Ha, ha...If you've figured it out you can go ahead and keep it to yourself for now But feel free to pop in here anytime you wish!

Anyway, thanks for your interest. And thanks for your comments on my narrative. I've tried to remain loyal to Tolkien's style while at the same time incorporating my own style. Hopefully I succeeded. Looking back on this long tale of mine one of the things I'm concerned about is that the second half seems to dominate the first half. At some point I might go back and edit parts of the first.

If fan votes count, I like your idea of the Balin story. I considered doing something like that some years back, but rather I did a Post-ROTK era piece on Moria where King Thorin Stonehelm and Radagast the Brown made a late effort to reclaim Moria for the dwarves, and for Radgast it was a penace sort of quest. The long & short of it is this: It was a BAD story. Any sort of Moria type fan fiction along your line of thought will be welcome.

I wonder why you think your piece was that bad? Did you post it on this site? The whole Moria thing is just fascinating and offers nearly endless possibilities. There's so much to do in there. The whole aptmosphere is very dark and macabre, if you understand me, and I like that. My brother has also encouraged me to write about Balin's last stand against the Balrog. But first of all I don't usually use Tolkien's pre-generated characters. For some reason they just seem to be off limits to me. Besides, I prefer my own characters. Secondly, I'm not sure I know how to write as well for dwarves as I do for men or even elves.

As for a female lead character it would certainly be a challenge. I might have to revolve the entire scenario of the story around that aspect, though. Even a sort of love story such as Tolkien's Aldarion and Erendis would be neat, perhaps set in the Third Age...We'll see. I suppose right now I am leaning towards one of the first two possibilities I mentioned before. But I've still got to finish this story before I start on anything else!

Elrond founded Imladris following your death in S.A. 1697 (or maybe it was that other Celebrimbor...hmmm.) He fled with the remnent of the Noldor following the fall of Eregion. (ROTK Appdx B...Second Age Timeline)

Ah, thanks! I needed to know that in order to clarify something for a part I'm trying to finish now. I've had to rewrite this Epilogue section for the third time now

There's more about Mt. Gundabad in Of Dwarves and Men in HoME 12; I'll provide a couple of quotes tomorrow, if nobody else gets there before I do. But now, unfortunately, I don't have time to dig them up.

Thanks, rowanberry. That'd be great if you get time. I'm curious now!

[Gordis]

Thanks for the reply, Celebrimbor.

I don't have HOME handy, but what I said about Gundabad I remember vaguely from HOME XII. So, if Rowanberry can get an exact quote, it would be great!

I made a web-search, and at tuckborough.net/mountains.html I found the following:

"Gundabad
Mountain in the Misty Mountains. Mount Gundabad was located in the far northern Misty Mountains, near the western end of the Grey Mountains. It was a large mountain and it stood apart from the others in the range.
According to the legends of the Dwarves, Mount Gundabad was where Durin, the eldest of the Seven Fathers of the Dwarves, awoke in ancient times. For this reason, the mountain was revered by the Dwarves.

In the middle of the Second Age, Orcs invaded the mountains and claimed Mount Gundabad, which became their capital. The Dwarves resented this desecration of the waking place of their great ancestor and it fueled their hatred for the Orcs. During the War of the Dwarves and the Orcs (2793-2799), the Dwarves assailed and sacked the Orc stronghold at Gundabad. But the Orcs later regrouped, and in 2941 a vast host of Orcs and Wargs gathered at Mount Gundabad and marched to the Lonely Mountain, where they were defeated by the Dwarves, Wood-Elves, and Lake-Men in the Battle of the Five Armies. "

It is not necessarily exact, as always is the case with web sources.

I have a few ideas lined up so far. Some of them are:

- the Great Plague of 1636
- the last expedition sent into Mordor before Gondor's watch upon it finally declines (early Third Age)
- the Seige and Sack of Umbar
- a dwarven colony of Balin lost in the deeps of Moria and discover the Underdeeps

I know it is not a question of vote, but entirely your choice, , but I like the Great Plague the most. Very interesting period, my favourite Arnor and Angmar. And the Barrow Wights!

As for a female main character... uhm, I have an impression that female main characters are everywhere by the cartloads. All fangirls have the female heroines. On the other hand, perhaps, as a man, you will be able to portray one that is definitely NOT a Mary-Sue. . But having a REALISTIC main female character, who doesn't wander as a warrior all over the ME, and doesn't have all men at her feet, will limit your plotlines a lot. For the plague fic, though, it may really be a good idea.

OOC: Funny, now I got that "Citizen of Imladris" title under my name... Coupled with my "Alliance: Minas Morgul" it sounds a bit disturbing. Beware of spies, Lord Elrond

Best wishes,
Gordis

[A_Simple_Poet]

You scoundrel!

I know EXACTLY who this is One of my TORC acquaintances and/or "Friends in Low places"...sorry, I couldn't resist the implied inside joke there. Hope the move went well.

My Moria piece pre-existed the World Wide Web in my life, and so it made for fertile kindling. The writing, plot, and characterization made the narrative worth scarcely even that. I agree with that sense of hesitation you take with regard to using pre-generated characters. I will usually only develop a pre-generated character providing they have had no dialogue written anywhere by the author. For instance, Bifur & Bofur may have likely had no lines at all anywhere in the entire series (Actually, I think one of them might have somewhere), but I wouldn't feel bad developing a world around a character like that. But I seldom do fan fiction anyway, it makes me feel too inferior to the author itself, but your work with this particular thread does have a peculiarly tolkien feel. I'm impressed.

Come visit my Madness over in The Bird and the Baby in your other ego if you have time... Until then, I eagerly await your work here.

ASP

[Celebrimbor32]

You scoundrel!

I know EXACTLY who this is One of my TORC acquaintances and/or "Friends in Low places"...sorry, I couldn't resist the implied inside joke there. Hope the move went well.

LOL! He, he...Yes, I'm sure you guessed correctly. Actually, this is the ID I use most of the time. I originally created the other name just to participate in the political threads over in Manwe, but I haven't had much time for that lately. Whenever I try and make my pointin those someone gives me a rebuttal and then I feel I need to send them one, and so on, and so on...It takes up too much time.

I agree with you that it's ok to write for some of Tolkien's lesser celebrity characters such as the two dwarves you mentioned. Something like that is acceptible, but a lot of folks on these boards have no problem at all writing for Aragorn, Legolas, Frodo, etc...To me it's taboo, though, and I doubt I'll ever do it. However, once I start a new piece I would love to have your feedback on it!

I will certainly come over and pay a visit or two to your Madness thread as soon as I get the chance

Thanks for that info on Gundabad, Gordis! Looks like you are correct. I guess I never knew about that. However, I'll probably go ahead and leave my text unedited for now. Maybe later on after I'm finished I can fix it.

I know it is not a question of vote, but entirely your choice, , but I like the Great Plague the most. Very interesting period, my favourite Arnor and Angmar. And the Barrow Wights!

Yeah, the Great Plague presents some wonderful potential for a dark and creepy storyline. I am sort of leaning towards that one, actually, but we'll see...Hmm. I never even thought of the Barrow wights!

[rowanberry]

Well, took me until today to get here with the quotes, but what Gordis found on that website doesn't seem to be badly off.

About the awakening places of the Seven Ancestors:

(...) only two of them were known to Elves and Men of the West: the most westerly, the awakening place of the ancestors of the Firebeards and the Broadbeams; and that of the ancestor of the Longbeards, the eldest in making and awakening. (...) the second had been Mount Gundabad (in origin a Khuzdul name), which was therefore revered by the Dwarves, and its occupation in the Third Age by the Orks of Sauron was one of their chief reasons for their great hatred of the Orks.

In the Second Age:

The Second Age had reached only the middle of its course (c. Second Age 1695) when [Sauron] invaded Eriador and destroyed Eregion, a small realm established by the Eldar migrating from the ruin of Beleriand that had formed an alliance also with the Longbeards of Moria. (...) Gundabad was re-taken, the Ered Mithrin infested and the communication between Moria and the Iron Hills for a time cut off.

Both quotes are from Of Dwarves and Men.

As for a female main character for your next story, I think you could be able to pull it off quite well, judging from how you carried the character of Eirien in Beleriand.

[bellmaker4]

Hey Celebrimbor32, I love your story. I'm in Chapter 5 right now, and I love how the story flows together! I'm too lazy to look in the appendices of LOTR, so I have to ask:Was Calimendil really a king of Cardolan?

[Celebrimbor32]

Thanks, rowanberry. Yeah, we had a good time with the Beleriand thread, didn't we? We never really gave it proper closure, though. Everyone sort of went their own way, I guess.

bellmaker4 - Greetings and thank you for your interest in my story Well no, actually, Calimendil was never mentioned by Tolkien, nor were any of Cardolan's kings, I believe. The name of Calimendil is a name I sort of 'borrowed' from an old ICE Middle-earth role playing module. Likewise with the names of Cameth Brin and Broggha. But the actually story and plot is my own.

btw, gang! Guess what? I sort of screwed up. I've been going over the dates of the various kings of Arthedain in the Appendix A of LotR. It appears that, if I want to stick with the dates I have set my tale in, Calimendil needs to be the Sixth king of Cardolan, not the Fifth. It doesn't work out that way. Not unless all of the king's of Cardolan lived a very l-o-n-g life! Oh well. Don't be surprised if I change the title to "Sixth King of Cardolan" at some point.

[Celebrimbor32]

My head bobbed up and down in the water of the stream as I drifted along its course to the west. Nothing more could I see or hear of Berandil by then and I never saw him again. I know not what doom he met after he disappeared into the darkness - though one may easily guess at it. A crazed madness took hold of him then that I could not prevent. I doubt not that he perished soon afterwards, yet I have always liked to believe that he fell valiantly defending the body of his father.

I was now utterly alone in the territory of the enemy. I was soaked to my bones and had only a lone dagger as a weapon of defense. No food did I possess, nor knew where to find any even if I had the chance to look for it. My head ached unabated and my body was wracked with weariness and grief. Yet still I could not fall into complete despair, though for what reason I could not guess, for what further use was my life after that night? However, I felt keenly that I must have been delivered from death for a purpose I did not yet understand. Perhaps it was to fulfill the obligation I had made to Calimendil long ago to watch over and protect his family after he was gone. “Amariel yet lives,” I thought to myself, “so also may Bregardil! He at the least I shall try to find so that the king be not without an heir.”

I began to swim now, and ere long I made my way to the raging Hoarwell, where I found a refuge atop a cluster of flat rocks that lay close to the eastern shore. Here I rested for a while in utter exhaustion, heedless of any enemies that might be about. I dared not sleep in so perilous a spot for fear of being washed away by the waves which lapped up against the rocks of my temporary harborage. The narrow shafts of moonlight from above allowed me to catch a glimpse of the land and river, and what I saw was not encouraging. To the north the Hoarwell, set between to tall cliffs of tree-covered rocks, could be seen stretching away far to the north as far as I could see. To the south the river looked to curve around towards the west with ever diminishing walls upon its westward bank. I could not see beyond the lofty embankments on either side of the river, but knew full well that a hidden menace lurked still somewhere to the east. I would not go that way. Even if I could scale the walls of the west bank - what use might it be? To the west were the unending plains of the Arhedainian Oiolad, where few men dwelt. No hope was there in that way either, as I would surely starve to death ere I would be found by anyone. My only chance was to stay with the river to the south. It was a sure course that could not be mistaken. I sat upon the rocks and brooded my evil plight, and ere long fell into a fitful sleep.

I remember waking with a start and with an uncontrollable urge to shield myself with my arms from an imaginary foe. But it was only the waves that seemed to smite me there on the rocks. Yet I was in great fear all of the sudden and I longed to get off that stony islet without further delay. A feeling of watchfulness pervaded my senses all of the sudden and I felt as if I was being watched by unfriendly eyes, though I could not see them. Great looming trees crowned the eastern embankment all along the river and now seemed to blanket me in a dark shadow, almost as if they had extended themselves outwards as I slept upon the rocks. “Even the trees themselves are black-hearted in Rhudaur,” I said to myself.

Once again I began to take thought of flight and considered how best to swim this swollen river to safety. But ere I could come to a decision I suddenly heard a loud crack high above my head. So loud was it that I flinched and covered my ears. But my instinct warned me to leap into the water immediately or die then and there. I quickly rose to my feet and dove headlong into the river. Just after I had struck the water an enormous tree branch (or more than one) fell from the heights of the tree and crashed upon my little rocky refuge with such a noisy violence that it broke asunder into many pieces. Straightaway I felt myself being swept to the center of the river. In shock I gasped for breath, swallowing much water in the process. I struggled to stay above water and feared that I would now surely drown. But the tree’s evil malice was ill-placed, it seems! Many of the broken limbs began to drift downstream with me and I was eventually able to grab hold of one of the larger logs to keep me afloat. Thus the trees of Rhudaur were thwarted in the end, and I was saved from falling to a watery grave.

My second day alone upon the river was no better than the first. I was glad of my floating log that I clung to as I drifted downstream, but I longed to get out of the water for good, and by nightfall I began to feel sick. Though I am more than half Dunedain by blood I felt my body beginning to succumb to weariness and cold. A sense of loneliness that I could not shake off began to cling to me by then as I pondered the events of the last two nights. It seemed unjust that I should be the only one selected to survive the war and bear the grievous tidings to Queen Amariel of the death of her husband and son. The news would be devastating to be sure.

When I felt that I could bear the water no longer I paddled my log to the western embankment, which by now was no higher than my head. To stay on the east bank was unthinkable, for though I had not seen any sign of orcs for a good while there was still the ever-present danger of trolls, which roamed the lands at will. I spent a miserable dark night huddled under the bushy undergrowth along the riverside in a state of shivering cold. The moon had already waned by then and nothing at all could I see. The only sound that I could hear was that of the occasional gusts of wind blowing the river Hoarwell along its appointed course.

Hunger began to gnaw at me without restraint by the third day. I began to despise and curse the very river that aided my flight; feeling that it would yet be the bane of me ere I ever reached Cardolan. My prophecy nearly proved true! The current of the river began to quicken and white foam began to surge around me in the water. Rocks of many shapes and sizes could now be seen flying past me as I drifted down river. Had I collided with them I would surely have lost my grip upon my floating log and drowned. Yet despite it all I avoided most them and remained free of any further injury.

I tried to occupy my mind with thoughts of food again, and began to consider catching fish to eat but knew not how I would ignite a fire so that I may cook them. Instead, I took my chances upon the eastern bank and foraged for food among nearby woods. I found wild berries and a few acorns but little else before I gave up on the idea.

The fourth day of my flight upon the river the terrain began to change again. Both banks became rocky and steep and were soon unclimbable. But then I descried a lofty bridge high above the river off in the distance to the south. This was cause for joy to me, for as I drew closer to it amid the river I knew that bridge to be the one that allowed access across the Hoarwell by way of the great east-west road, wrought in the days of old by the engineers of Elendil. I could see strange shapes of things being suspended from the railings by ropes. They were dead bodies – the bodies of orcs! There they were - dozens of them, hanging lifeless by their necks on both sides of the bridge. No doubt they had been slain and hung there to serve as a warning to others of their kind. As I passed under the bridge I could see three more bodies laying amid the rocks along the eastern bank, all of which were orcs.

Coming over to the east bank I inspected the dead. Their bodies were crushed and disfigured from the fall from the bridge. But on two of them I discovered pouches in their pockets which contained some kind of dried meat, though from what beast or creature it had come I dared not guess. Yet in my desperate hunger I took the rations and resigned myself to consume them if no help came to me in one more day.

That night it began to rain again and I found it difficult to find any better shelter than where I already was. The wind picked up and began howling through the valley of the river, blowing the rain hard against both stone and tree. Yet that was not the worst of it. What I had mistaken as the howling wind was something quite different. It was the howling of wolves! Soon there was no doubt about it. More harsh cries were heard in the distance, as if in answer to the first. I sat amid the rocks of the eastern embankment and shielded myself from the elements and prying eyes as best as I could. Sleep could no longer be warded off by then and I gave in to its temptation despite the danger of it. Yet I was startled out of my slumber in the late hours of the night by a loud and sudden crash in the river, only a few yards away from where I sat huddled under the shadow of the bridge. Instinctively, I recoiled in alarm from the splash of water that drenched me. All around me was dark and I could see nothing, which heightened my fear considerably. From atop the bridge I could hear the wolves now, chewing and gnawing at some grotesque prey they had found. “Perhaps they are feasting on the dead,” I thought to myself, “and one of them may have fallen from the bridge in their curiosity.” It was too dark to investigate the cause of the noise and much too dark to try and escape. I huddled again in my hiding spot as I listened to the commotion of the beasts far above my head, hoping they could not navigate the steep cliffs leading down to the river.

The rain ceased with the arrival of the gray dawn. I had suffered no assaults or molestation during the night, and for that I gave thanks to the Valar. Seeing or hearing no one, I arose and investigated the area of the crash during the night. There, only a few paces away from me, was another body laying face down in the shallows of the water. It was one of the orc bodies that had been hanging from the bridge. The wolves must have gnawed through the cords that suspended him in the air! I thought myself very fortunate that the falling body had not struck and killed me. His face and body were mangled beyond description, but I noted that he bore the devices of Mt. Gundabad upon his uniform. “They are all from the far north,” I said aloud to myself. “Perhaps the orcs of Gundabad have been worsted by the Dunedain! Amariel secured help from Malvegil after all. If so, it is too little too late, I fear.”

Finding nothing of use on any of the dead along the river I resigned myself to move on. Wanting to avoid submerging myself in the water again I attempted to make my way along the eastern riverbank, which was exceeding stony and provided unsure footing. Slowly I made my way southwards in this manner for many miles (or so it seemed). By midday the embankments on both sides of the river began to give way to lower ground. This allowed me to move at a quicker pace, but also left me exposed to assault, and ere long I saw that sight which I had dreaded – two wolves had made their way down the eastern bank behind me! Slowly they began to follow me, stopping occasionally to cry aloud their echoing howls to the rest of their pack.

It occurred to me then that my miraculous escape would end in disaster after all. I was hardly in a condition to engage in a battle with wild wolves, being both weary and sick, and only armed with a single knife. I began to see more of the beasts arrive along the top of both riverbanks now. I could think of nothing to do but to turn and let them see the bright steel of my dagger in an act of intimidation. This accomplished nothing other than anger them all the more. My situation was grave and I could think of nothing else but to begin shouting at them with all the volume my faltering voice could muster up. I cursed them under cloud and sky and began to throw rocks at them, hoping to dissuade them.

Then a most incredible thing happened. All of the sudden I saw arrows fly out of the tangled underbrush and strike the two wolves that followed me from behind. Then more arrows flew through the air at the beasts that lingered above me upon the embankment. The wolves cried aloud in pain ere they turned to face their hidden attackers. I crouched down and listened silently, hoping not to feel the bite of a feathered shaft in my back. The sound of voices was now plainly audible off to the east. They were talking to each other in the Sindarin tongue! As I waited for the sound of battle to end I could hear them coming closer to me now. They had slain or driven off the wolves and were coming to rescue me, or at least I hoped so.

Presently, five figures emerged from the thickets on the eastern bank. To my shock they were not men at all, but elves! They were clad all in green and brown and all had bows with arrows knocked and pointed at me. “Stand where you are and do not move!” said one among them in the Sindarin tongue. I froze in my tracks, though my knees must have quaked before them, weary as I was. “A strange thing is this!” he continued in his fair voice, though a hidden authority lay behind it. “Few men ever navigate the Metheithel in this country nowadays. And none have we ever beheld swimming its length until now, though perhaps you do not choose to do so willingly. Do you understand me, O mortal man? Who are you?”

“If he does not know our tongue,” said another, “then he is no friend of ours. Let us take no chances. Shall we shoot him, lord, so that we may be on our way? More orcs may be nearby.”

A sudden silence fell among all of us as I stared at their company in uncertainty. I had expected them to welcome me, but now I realized that I might very well be shot and left for dead at any moment. At last I spoke to them accordingly, “Yea, I am fluent in the tongue of the Eldar, and I am not an orc. Nor am I of the Hillmen or any other folk that dwell here. I am Iliandor, man of Cardolan and councilor to King Calimendil. I do not navigate the river in this fashion by choice. I was nearly slain by the orcs and was forced to throw myself into the river to escape them. Will you not help me, for I am destitute and without hope of survival. Not much longer shall I endure this torment, for soon I will be spent in both body and mind.”

Two of the elves spoke in hushed whispers together ere they spoke again. The others remained standing as still as stone, there feathered shafts aimed at my breast. “You are a councilor you say. Yet where is your king? Or has he perished in the orcish onslaught like many others of your kin?”

“Alas. He is dead. All others, it seems, are gone as well, save only myself,” I answered. But one among their company shook his head as if in apathy to me, saying, “So it ever goes among men, I fear; beginning wars and griefs that they cannot finish to their own detriment. And now you have stirred up an angry bee’s nest here on the borders of our lands, yet comfortably far from your own homes. Who now shall remain here and contest the rising evil in the north?”

But their captain rebuked him and said, “Peace, Maerod! One could make similar accusations about our own history and troubled past and be not far from the truth. Yet little good does it do us now. The Witch King is an evil that does not discriminate. He hates us no less than the men of Westernesse; from whom, I deem, this lost wanderer is no doubt a descendant. It is only proper now that we lend him our aid in his need.”

I was too weary and wayworn then to take any offense at the elf’s harsh words towards me or my kin, and instead offered my introductions to them. They would not reveal to me whence they had come but only that they were on an errand to secure passage of the Last Bridge and prevent any foes from seizing possession of it. But I could not resist the urge to beg for tidings of the orc armies that had overran much of Rhudaur. To this Orowe, their leader, answered, “We drove out and slew a horde of orcs that had attempted to cross the bridge over into Eriador, as you no doubt must have seen as you crossed beneath the bridge along the river. If any remain they have fled and hid themselves. But rumors report that they have taken much of northern Rhudaur and driven forth or slain most of the Dunedain that did not make it out. There now can be no doubt that they were summoned from their holes in the far north by the lord of the Hillmen. An evil alliance exists now between Rhudaur and Angmar that will be difficult to break, and I forebode that your kingdom of Arnor will be put to the test in the years to come.”

Then the elves took me into their escort and gave me food and dry clothing, and even lent me one of their horses. I spent several hours with them in a patch of thick trees nearby where I was given a remarkable warm liquor that soothed my innards and unburdened my mind of grief and anguish for a while. Quickly I told the elves my tale of all that had befallen our great host upon the battlefield and of my flight afterwards. The sat round me in silence as I spoke and listened attentively, being especially interested the fall of King Calimendil. But when I again told them that I was the only survivor of the disaster Orowe checked me and said, “In this I think you may be mistaken, Iliandor. For our scouts that guarded the Last Bridge reported that they descried two men in a small boat floating down the river not more than three days ago. My folk did not attempt to waylay them, as they looked to be men of the west and were fully armed. Yet the description I was given of their garb closely resembles that of your own attire.”

This bit of news sent a wave of shock through me and I pondered deeply what it might foretell. It would be beyond all hope that one of these two men might very well be Bregardil, now the King’s only surviving male heir. I thanked Orowe and his companions many times ere we parted company. They would not come with me on my road southwards, but assured me that I would encounter no orcs south of the great road. “Soon you will come into that land, which you men call the Angle,” he said. “Its inhabitants have not been directly touched by your war yet, though I fear that that day may come soon. Indeed, not even Cardolan will long endure against the power that grows apace in the north unless you men of the West put aside your petty quarrels and unite against it. Is not the history of my own people evidence enough? The war that you have initiated was ill-timed and ill-fated, I deem. Yet even still we offer you our condolences for your loss. Remain close to the river as you go south and go not eastwards. I can offer you no further counsel at this time. After you return to your home harbor our horse for one night than let him return to us. He will know the way. Go in peace. Farewell!”

The elves departed swiftly thereafter and I never saw them again. But being now strengthened in mind and body by their aid I mounted my new steed and rode south in great haste. Ever as I went I pondered the tidings they had given me of the two survivors that they had seen, hoping against all hope that one of them might be Bregardil. I forded the Hoarwell in the south of the Angle, and at last crossed into the territory of Cardolan. My eyes were filled with both tears of joy and sorrow as I once again trod upon my own home soil, and on the third day from parting with the elves I at last came within sight of Dol Calantir under a cloudy sky of rain. Even as the guards came to take me in I felt my hands tremble with a loathing anticipation. The time had come for me to face Amariel the Queen, and look her in the eye and tell her of the horrible story of the disaster of Cameth Brin...

[Gordis]

Awesome chapter, Celebrimbor!

So full of action, so many things: huorns (?), orcs, wolves, not-too-friendly elves, smimming down the racing river.

The finale is approaching. Please, update soon!

Gordis

[Celebrimbor32]

Thanks Gordis Actually I'm about finished now. All that is left is for me to complete the concluding Epilogue, which I am working on now. I deleted a lot of it and am rewriting it, which I hope to post here in perhaps two segments...Also, I know I said I plan on writing another ME piece next, but first I am going to write a sort of essay on my thoughts and opinions on the sorry state of Classical Music today and the musicians that perform it (of which, I admit, I am one). This is something I promised my wife I would do after I finished my Cardolan piece. But I still hope to begin another ME tale sometime perhaps in the Spring!

btw - I went ahead and joined that Henneth-Annun website that you recomended and have just begun to post my story on it. My screenname is the same as it is on this site.

[Valandil3430]

Hi Celebrimbor32! Gordis recommended your story to me. I've read all but the last 3-4 posts. I'm the author of the "Letters of Firiel" she mentioned - would love to have you slip on over to Entmoot to see them (where I am simply 'Valandil' - the name was taken here), and tell me what you thought.

I had noticed that about how Calimendil should be at least the 6th king of Cardolan. You could explain it that somewhere along the way, the crown passed from a king to his grandson, if the heir in between had already been slain. Or - maybe they just married later than the line in Arthedain. I also wonder if the kings of Cardolan and Rhudaur would have been subject to shorter lifespans than those at Arthedain - assuming Arthedain was the true 'legitimate' kingship (I'm a bit prejudiced on that account ).

I thought it a bit odd too that Calimendil's father died the same year as Celebrimbor - 1272.

And - to get all my 'picky' things out of the way at once - I think in an early post you had Calimendil going to Fornost in 1191 (the year Celepharn died) - but then it became apparent it must have been the late 1260's or more likely the early 1270's - though I could have misread that one. Also - at one point when they're in Rhudaur, you have a rider stop a 'league' from Calimendil's army to speak with him - but a league is three miles. I suggest a 'half furlong' or something (which would be just over 100 yards).

I wish I had written notes as I went along (I think Gordis does that nicely) - so I'm just going off the top of my head - and might be misremembering some things.

Anyway - I don't want you to get the wrong idea... I'm certainly enjoying the story and appreciate the effort it has taken you to get it all cranked out.

As Gordis knows all too well, I'm a big fan of the Dunedain of the North. Between all my other life commitments, I would just love to write a "Chronicles of Arnor" compiling all sorts of stories from the time of Elendil to the time of Aragorn II. So far I have a very modest start. I have a different version of things in Cardolan and Rhudaur of course - but I'm not familiar with the ICE games you mention (except that I've seen some of the cover art).

In addition to my "Letters" - I've written a short story which is meant to be the first in a mini-collection called "Tales of Nolduryon" - this first one is about how Eldacar son of Valandil met his wife. And - I've made an outline of the reign of each king (including those of Cardolan and Rhudaur) which is much like the narratives about Numenor's Kings in UT. My outline is about 24 pages in Word though (my "Letters" are about 40 and my other story is 12 - this one of yours must be over 100!). I haven't posted my outline because it's a work in progress, but I've shared it with a handful of friends.

I'm trying now to get my rear in gear to wrap up a story I began last March and have let sit since. It's set in the early years of Arthedain - a few centuries before your story. I hope to post it by Christmas.

(EDIT: Oh - for a story idea with a female lead, how about someone who is middle-aged or older? Maybe even the wife of Tharbad's mayor in 1636... he dies in the Great Plague and she has to take various measures to minimize the losses and save the people. She might even be of noble or royal birth herself... perhaps a daughter of the great King Araphor of Arthedain - maybe she was born ~ 1500 or so. Just a thought - and gets you a female, the Plague and Tharbad)

Once more - nice work and carry on!

[Celebrimbor32]

Hail Valandil3430, and welcome Thank you very much for taking time to read my lengthy tale here and providing your coments. Let's see:

I'm the author of the "Letters of Firiel" she mentioned - would love to have you slip on over to Entmoot to see them (where I am simply 'Valandil' - the name was taken here), and tell me what you thought.

> I would be happy to read your tale! I might have some time to check it out this weekend. But is the Entmoot on a different website? If so, what is the addy?

I had noticed that about how Calimendil should be at least the 6th king of Cardolan. You could explain it that somewhere along the way, the crown passed from a king to his grandson, if the heir in between had already been slain. Or - maybe they just married later than the line in Arthedain. I also wonder if the kings of Cardolan and Rhudaur would have been subject to shorter lifespans than those at Arthedain - assuming Arthedain was the true 'legitimate' kingship (I'm a bit prejudiced on that account ).

I thought it a bit odd too that Calimendil's father died the same year as Celebrimbor - 1272.

> Thanks for the suggestions. However, since I am eager to bring this story to a close once and for all (I've been working on it for well over two years!) I'll probably just change the title to "Sixth" king, as I have already done on the other website. That way the dates I have mentioned will correspond more closely with the timeline Tolkien gives us in the Appendices in RotK...As for Celebrimbor, he was slain in the Second Age by Sauron, was he not?

Also - at one point when they're in Rhudaur, you have a rider stop a 'league' from Calimendil's army to speak with him - but a league is three miles. I suggest a 'half furlong' or something (which would be just over 100 yards).

> Ah! Thanks. I've always been a bit confused as to the old fashioned style of measurements. I will try to go back and edit that part as you suggested.

As Gordis knows all too well, I'm a big fan of the Dunedain of the North. Between all my other life commitments, I would just love to write a "Chronicles of Arnor" compiling all sorts of stories from the time of Elendil to the time of Aragorn II. So far I have a very modest start. I have a different version of things in Cardolan and Rhudaur of course - but I'm not familiar with the ICE games you mention (except that I've seen some of the cover art).

> Yeah. As interesting as the whole Gondor history is, I have always had a preferance for the History of Arnor. It's fascinating! Great pity Tolkien didn't elaborate more on this subject! A Chronicles of Arnor would be a terrific undertaking, though it would take a lot of work and research. I, too, would love to try and tackle something like that sometime. Perhaps we should collaborate on this project at some point?...As for the ICE modules I am lucky enough to possess about 75% of them! About half f them are still in mint condition! The cover art is mostly great, but it is the wonderfully detailed maps inside that I treasure most of all!

In addition to my "Letters" - I've written a short story which is meant to be the first in a mini-collection called "Tales of Nolduryon" - this first one is about how Eldacar son of Valandil met his wife. And - I've made an outline of the reign of each king (including those of Cardolan and Rhudaur) which is much like the narratives about Numenor's Kings in UT. My outline is about 24 pages in Word though (my "Letters" are about 40 and my other story is 12 - this one of yours must be over 100!). I haven't posted my outline because it's a work in progress, but I've shared it with a handful of friends.

I would love to read your works some time, Valandil. Can't you post one of them here on this site? Funny you mentioned making a outline of the Arnorian Kings, as I was going to provide my own outline of the Cardolani Kings at the tale end of this story as a sort of encore. I, too, was going to make it similar to the Numenorean outline in UT However, I would still like to see what you've come up with as well...Also, great ideas on a female lead for a new story! I'll give it some thought.

btw - my story on Microsoft Word is about 76 ppgs so far and a little over 50,000 words! Much longer than I ever intended it to be. Again, it would be fun to collaborate on a Chrinicles of Arnor project sometime! But, as I mentioned before, I promised my wife I would write a critical essay on Classical Music before I do another Tolkien piece. But perhaps in the Spring?

[Valandil3430]

Ooops! CeleBRINDOR! I've caught plenty of people on that one - how silly to mess it up now!

Let's see if this works as a link to the first of my "Letters of Firiel" - then keep going through the thread. There are 12 altogether:

http://entmoot.tolkientrail.com/showthr ... post372975

And this is the "Tales of Nolduryon":

http://entmoot.tolkientrail.com/showthread.php?t=12310

Entmoot is a different site. I COULD post my stories here as well, but I already have them both at three sites now (Entmoot, The Tolkien Forum and SF-Fandom). I don't know if I should clutter up the 'net with them any more than that. Entmoot is where I mostly hang out.

If the links don't work, Gordis gave you the "Letters" one - and the "Tales" is in a subforum there called "Writers Workshop".

So - give them a look and tell me what you think.

[rowanberry]

Valandil, the links work perfectly.

I only had time for the first three letters of Fíriel, but will read the rest of them later, as well as your other story; they seem well-thought and well written to me.

[Valandil3430]

Thanks Rowanberry.

Brace yourself for the fourth - it's the longest. The 11th is almost as long - and there's another long one in there (maybe 7 or thereabouts). Glad you like them.

[Gordis]

Thanks Gordis Actually I'm about finished now. All that is left is for me to complete the concluding Epilogue, which I am working on now. I deleted a lot of it and am rewriting it, which I hope to post here in perhaps two segments...Also, I know I said I plan on writing another ME piece next, but first I am going to write a sort of essay on my thoughts and opinions on the sorry state of Classical Music today and the musicians that perform it (of which, I admit, I am one). This is something I promised my wife I would do after I finished my Cardolan piece. But I still hope to begin another ME tale sometime perhaps in the Spring!

btw - I went ahead and joined that Henneth-Annun website that you recomended and have just begun to post my story on it. My screenname is the same as it is on this site.

Oh, you are a musician! I admit I have never thought that Classical Music were in a sorry state, but if you say so... Good luck with your essay.
But still I will be waiting eagerly for your new ME fic.

I have tried to look for your story at Henneth-Annun, but couldn't find it there. Perhaps it doesn't show yet? Anyway it is a good and easily searchable archive.

I see Valandil finally made his way here and enjoyed your story. Yes, we both are Entmoot-dwellers, he is the High King and I am the Eight Nazgul . We participate in an early Arnor RPG, "On Wraiths and Kings and Friends and Rings", set in Tharbad in TA 49. Come have a look one day, Celebrimbor, it is on entmoot.com

I also wonder if the kings of Cardolan and Rhudaur would have been subject to shorter lifespans than those at Arthedain - assuming Arthedain was the true 'legitimate' kingship (I'm a bit prejudiced on that account ).

I told you many times, Valandil, that the only true legetimate King of Arnor was His Royal Majesty the King of Angmar! His long lifespan is another proof of his legitimacy.

[Celebrimbor32]

Oh, you are a musician! I admit I have never thought that Classical Music were in a sorry state, but if you say so... Good luck with your essay.

> Yeah, I play cello. I was actually a music major in college. I guess, IMO anyway, the Classical Music scene today is sorely lacking in originality and spontaneity among its musicians and proponents. So I plan on voicing my complaints in the form of an essay, which I plan on giving to some of my music friends. Maybe I'll even post it in a thread over in the Choirs of Eru forum after I'm finished, though I doubt I'll get very much response from it on this site...At any rate, I will certainly write another Tolkien piece soon, though probably much shorter than my Cardolan story.

I have tried to look for your story at Henneth-Annun, but couldn't find it there. Perhaps it doesn't show yet? Anyway it is a good and easily searchable archive.

> Really? Hmm...I wonder why? Perhaps I still haven't figured out how to use that site yet. I know my submission went through ok and I have been able to view it without any problems. Do you know what the difference between a "Beta" story and a "non-Beta" story? ...Maybe I should just join the Entmoot site instead with you and Valandil and post my tale there.

I see Valandil finally made his way here and enjoyed your story. Yes, we both are Entmoot-dwellers, he is the High King and I am the Eight Nazgul . We participate in an early Arnor RPG, "On Wraiths and Kings and Friends and Rings", set in Tharbad in TA 49. Come have a look one day, Celebrimbor, it is on entmoot.com

> Interesting. Yeah, I used to participate in the RPG's here with rowanberry, as she can verify We had one simply entitled, BELERIAND, which lasted a long time. That was a lot of fun. I was also in one called, "Of Helcaraxe and the Passing of the Noldor", which we never really finished. There was some really nice writing in that one, too...I should have some extra time this weekend, so I will check out the Entmoot and see what's going on there. I will also take some time to read more of Valandil's Letters, which I've only just skimmed so far, but they look great!

btw - anyone know who finally won the WCA awards for writing? I started browsing thru some of the pggs in that thread a few days ago but got weary of it after a while.

[Gordis]

I have tried to look for your story at Henneth-Annun, but couldn't find it there. Perhaps it doesn't show yet? Anyway it is a good and easily searchable archive.

> Really? Hmm...I wonder why? Perhaps I still haven't figured out how to use that site yet. I know my submission went through ok and I have been able to view it without any problems. Do you know what the difference between a "Beta" story and a "non-Beta" story? ...Maybe I should just join the Entmoot site instead with you and Valandil and post my tale there.

Well, if you mean at henneth-annun.net (HASA story archive) no, it is not there. If you can see it, could you post a link? Perhaps I was looking in a wrong place?

"Beta-ed" story means the story was read and corrected by someone, called a "beta-reader". For some authors, not very good in English, it makes a world of difference. Your story, I believe, doesn't really need one, and we have beta-ed it here... Unless the HASA only accepts appointed beta-readers, though I don't think so.

Yes, sure, I would be glad to see your story on Entmoot. Valandil may know more about rules etc. there, as he is a super-mod.

Interesting. Yeah, I used to participate in the RPG's here with rowanberry, as she can verify We had one simply entitled, BELERIAND, which lasted a long time. That was a lot of fun. I was also in one called, "Of Helcaraxe and the Passing of the Noldor", which we never really finished. There was some really nice writing in that one, too...I should have some extra time this weekend, so I will check out the Entmoot and see what's going on there. I will also take some time to read more of Valandil's Letters, which I've only just skimmed so far, but they look great!

Both you and Rowanberry are welcome to join, if you like the story. It is long already, more than 500 posts, and there are some well written posts. I believe, the Forces of Goodness and Light (FOGAL-block) are sorely outnumbered now by FOEAD (the Forces of Evil and Darkness) . Especially, our King Valandil has mostly his sword for companion. He may use some kindred spirit, or so I think.
Here are the links
Info thread: http://www.entmoot.com/showthread.php?t=12545
Game thread: http://www.entmoot.com/showthread.php?t=12439

btw - anyone know who finally won the WCA awards for writing? I started browsing thru some of the pggs in that thread a few days ago but got weary of it after a while.

I believe it was Lalaith Elerrina. She is so ... congenial with the general spirit of the forum.

[Valandil3430]

Yes, sure, I would be glad to see your story on Entmoot. Valandil may know more about rules etc. there, as he is a super-mod.

It's pretty easy. As a moderator at one site though, I want to be careful about what I say in regards to promoting it here on someone else's site. I don't want to be disrespectful or detract at all. And certainly don't want to cause hard feelings, because I did not come here to steer people elsewhere, and don't want to make anyone think so.

Uploading at Entmoot is rather easy though. I have not tried to upload a story here, but it seems similar, as far as I can tell.

[Celebrimbor32]

It's pretty easy. As a moderator at one site though, I want to be careful about what I say in regards to promoting it here on someone else's site. I don't want to be disrespectful or detract at all. And certainly don't want to cause hard feelings, because I did not come here to steer people elsewhere, and don't want to make anyone think so.

> That's perfectly understandable, Valandil. Having said that I doubt anyone will raise any eyebrows in regards to your intentions here. In fact, I believe I was the one who brought up the subject of other websites. I, for one, enjoy this site very much and have no intentions of leaving it anytime soon. Yet I still wish to explore other Tolkien related sites as well. I will scoot on over to Entmoot today and begin reading your Letters, and perhaps also get acquainted with the site via your provided links.

So you are a Mod on Entmoot?

I believe it was Lalaith Elerrina. She is so ... congenial with the general spirit of the forum.

> Uh-huh. Right - well that just goes to prove that what I said earlier tends to be true. In order for such a contest to be taken seriously there needs to be an impartial group of jurists to act as judges.

[rowanberry]

I believe it was Lalaith Elerrina. She is so ... congenial with the general spirit of the forum.

> Uh-huh. Right - well that just goes to prove that what I said earlier tends to be true. In order for such a contest to be taken seriously there needs to be an impartial group of jurists to act as judges.

Well, Lalaith-Elerrina has quite a following here (and not exactly among teenagers, unlike one could imagine!). I haven't read her stories in the Reading Room; but, in real life, she's a published writer, as far as I know, so she probably doesn't write totally awful fanfic either.

But, it is true that, the awards tend to go to people that are well known on the "social" forums. As another member of the WCA Committee said, there are dozens of talented, knowledgeable people on this site who post only on a couple of forums, and therefore are practically unknown to the majority of the members.

As for the RPG on the Entmoot, I'll check that one too, but I'm not sure if I have time for it at the moment.

[Celebrimbor32]

Well, Lalaith-Elerrina has quite a following here (and not exactly among teenagers, unlike one could imagine!). I haven't read her stories in the Reading Room; but, in real life, she's a published writer, as far as I know, so she probably doesn't write totally awful fanfic either.

> No she doesnt. Not at all. Actually, after skimming some of her stuff, it looks pretty good! Coherently and thoughtfully written, no doubt. Though I did notice that she chose to use Tolkien's pregenerated celebrity characters from the LotR. But that's fine too. Again, I certainly don't wish to tear down any of the other authors on this site. I just think that popularity is the main characteristic that wins awards in here. Off the top of my head I can think of two other stories that were more than worthy of winning the award, though they are quite old by now. One is called The Corruption of Sauron, which is buried somewhere in the back of the RR. The other one is a historic tale about one of the earlier kings of Rohan written by Denethor (his screenname), which I thought was excellent. Pity he never finished it. It's somewhere here in the Writing forum, way in the back by now.

At any rate, here is my next post. One or two more posts and it'll be a wrap!

[Celebrimbor32]

“Our work here is nearly finished, my love. Even as I prophesied so it has come to be – Broggha is trapped and will not come out of his hole. Our siege upon Cameth Brin is a success, and thus this war, which I know you loathe, shall conclude soon. The Hillmen cannot last very long upon the Naked Hill without nourishment, which they lack. Dol Duniath in the north is ours once again. No help will come to Broggha from that way. Greatly shall Arthedain admire our victory here and look upon Cardolan with envy thereafter…I am in good health, as are our sons. So take heart, my precious one! With good fortune you and I shall be together again by the autumn!” ~ final letter from Calimendil to Amariel, composed during the siege of Cameth Brin, June, 1319

The guards received me with astonishment upon my return to Dol Calantir. They seemed to have full knowledge of the disaster of Cameth Brin, and at that I marveled. They did not anticipate the arrival of anyone from the King’s host out of Rhudaur, for they had been told that all had perished, save two men only, who had thence returned from the north only three days before my own return. As they took me to the stables I immediately asked the identities of the two survivors, hoping desperately that one of them would be Bregardil.

“Alas no, lord,” replied the guards, “the survivors are Odhril and a man who calls himself Vilthya, one of the king’s mercenaries from the other side of the mountains. Yet they have come bearing grim tidings of the war and the death of Bregardil.” Upon hearing this I very nearly quailed. The news was like a dagger to my heart. Everything was now lost. The end of things had come at last. The King was dead, as were both his sons. Berandil with his keen glance and sharp wit, Bregardil with his fierce determination and pride – both men had been well esteemed by their peers and loved greatly. High hopes had been penned on both of them in succeeding their father as worthy successors to the crown. They should have gone on to be valiant men; exemplary in holding true the noble line of Thorondor, First King of Cardolan, who was in turn descended from old Elendil himself. Now they were gone. Only in Calime, daughter of the king, was there any hope now of preserving the bloodline.

All of these thoughts passed through my mind at once as I left the guards and marched around to the gate of Dol Calantir. I thought now of the two names I had been given. Vilthya I knew not at all. But not so Odhril. He I knew full well, for he had been the King’s banner-bearer. He had been given the honor of that position by Calimendil himself, who did so only at the request of Orodril, an influential prince who resided near the great downs of Tyrn Gorthad. Orodril petitioned the King to accept Odhril as one of his esquires during his march into Rhudaur. I counseled the King to refuse the request. Small love was there between the King and this haughty prince. But Calimendil was eager to unite the realm under his banner ere he marched away to war, and acquiesced to the request.

My mind flashed back to the night of the first attack by the orcs as we encamped about Cameth Brin. I vividly remember Odhril coming to my tent that night to alert me that I was wanted by the King. Yet I did not recall him following me out to the King. Nor did I ever recall seeing him in battle alongside the King, as was his duty. He seemed to vanish from sight shortly after the fighting had begun! There was little doubt in my mind that Odrhil had chosen to run and flee in the face of danger. My heart was hot with wrath now and I was eager to face him.

It was not long after I entered Dol Calantir that I was swarmed by folk who immediately pummeled me with questions. Already crowds were converging upon the court of the King to take in whatever tidings they could. Rumors would soon fly abroad of the death of Calimendil and his heirs. Lesser princes and nobles from all corners of the country were arriving each day to “offer their condolences and support to the Queen”, or so they would proclaim openly. Yet in secret they would take thought of what this sudden change of the wind would bring. Already tongues were wagging among the princes with thoughts of usurpation.

I was whisked away by the guard to the chamber of the Queen, who had already received word of my coming. When I came into her chamber I saw Amariel gazing silently out her window as I entered her chamber alone. The room was very dark with only the light of the fireplace to provide illumination. Turning slowly to face me I could see that she had been crying well before I arrived. I immediately dropped to my knees before her and begged her forgiveness for my failures abroad and at home. But the Queen was merciful and forgave me in all things in regards to the war, in spite of her grief. Amariel was a remarkable woman of high intellect and wisdom, as many knew all along. We spoke long together that night in secret and I began the long and tedious labor of telling her the true tale of what happened to the army of the King in Rhudaur. Without any movement whatsoever Amariel sat in front of the fireplace in eerie silence as I spoke, seldom turning her unblinking eyes away from the glow of the flames. When I at last spoke somewhat of the death of her husband the Queen shook her head and bade me halt, saying suddenly and with great emotion, “Speak no more of that final misery, lest my heart altogether fail me! I feel the house of my spirit now on the verge of collapse, Iliandor. It stands on the brink of a black abyss that has no bottom. If I fall now never again shall I emerge from it as one whole. All the men of my family are gone. My authority here will be short-lived, I fear, and I will have need of much strength in the days to come, though I know not where I shall find it.”

Though I was weary from travel the Queen questioned me late into the night. I spoke no more then of Calimendil’s death to her. But I soon learned that Odrhil, having arrived three days before me, had told her that the king had given him orders to accompany Bregardil down into the village of Tanoth Brin, which I knew flatly to be a lie. Further, he had told a story of terrific proportions upon his return to court, which exaggerated his role in what is almost certainly a mythical battle between some of the king’s men and the Hillmen from Broggha’s tower that had attempted to waylay Bregardil. The story, as he has told it to many since then, goes to say that he accompanied Bregardil down into valley beneath the Naked Hill upon orders of the King. Upon reaching the village below they found reinforcements already waiting for them just outside the walls of the town. Scores of well-armed Hillmen from the tower above made their way down into the village by way of the old dwarf tunnels inside the hill and immediately launched an attack upon Bregardil and his men. A bloody and confused battle ensued in the dark. Bregardil ordered an immediate retreat towards the river, where they would surely find boats to carry them away. But Bregardil was struck from behind by an arrow and unable to reach the riverbank unaided. Odhril himself, for so he told it, gathered a handful of men to guard Bregardil’s flank after ordering one among them (who turned out to be none other than Vilthya himself!) to assist the King’s Heir down to the boats. After defeating, or at least staying the assault of the Hillmen, Odhril fled into woods that lined the eastern side of the river until he had at last come to the banks alone. There, in pitch darkness, he successfully traversed the steep cliff down to the raging waters of the Hoarwell, where Vilthya and a mortally wounded Bregardil, who lay dying in the boat they had stolen, soon found him. Together the three of them tried in vain to navigate the wild and rapid river, but ere long their boat foundered upon jagged rocks in the stream and was torn to shreds. Bregardil was drowned and hence came never back to Cardolan, his home.

Odhril and Vilthya made it over to the western shore and began to take the southward road on foot. On the third day of their hike they claim that they were discovered by the rangers of Arthedain, who took them in their camp and gave them nourishment and shelter before assisting them on their return to Cardolan. Now let it be remembered that I, myself, was forced to take to the terrible river for several days upon a broken log, as I have already described. With King Calimendil ordering the original retreat from Cameth Brin to the south and east my escape would naturally have brought me far to the south long before Odhril and Vilthya’s flight upon the river. Never once did I see any sign of them or any others that go about on two legs until my encounter with the Noldor. If their tale had any degree of truth in it I would have certainly seen them on their return flight from Rhudaur at some point. I did not.

I retired to my quarters late that night for I was spent and longed for the feel of a warm bed. Feeling assured that the Queen and her daughter were safe at least for one more night I fell asleep almost instantly. But I remember waking up suddenly several hours before dawn that morning with a sudden start and I quickly reached for my dagger, which I kept under my pillow out of habit. Realizing that my fears were nothing more than a dream I sat up on my bed in a cold sweat. A terrible feeling of loneliness suddenly overcame me and quenched my spirit with melancholia. I got up, left my darkened bedchamber and proceeded alone outside to the King and Queen’s private gardens.

I wandered back to a far corner of the lush enclosure where many of Calimendil’s favorite royal fountains stood spraying their watery mist upon gentle pools within silver basins. I sat silently upon the intricately chiseled bench of stone by the fountain as I began to recall the days of happiness that I had spent at court with Calimendil, my friend and King. It was upon that very bench that we sat together many years ago as he asked me to become his most trusted advisor and protector to his family. I then tried to rise from the bench but my legs would not comply. I suddenly felt overwhelmed with emotion and despondency and I wept. I wept long and hard and unleashed my tears as the scene of the King’s wicked death and the fate of his sons unfolded vividly in my mind. Calimendil was gone and would never return. I had failed him in the end...

[Gordis]

A very nice chapter, Celebrimbor! I loved the Queen's reaction and the very end in the garden.
I am intrigued by Odhril and Vilthya. Are they simply cowards or spies and murderers?
Gordis

[Celebrimbor32]

Thanks Gordis! Only one or two more posts to go, I should say. I'm having a devil of a time writing the ending. I've already re-written it twice now. Just can't seem to get it right for some reason. It might be another week or so before I get it up here. Then after the final post I was thinking about making one last encore post listing all of the Cardolani Kings up to Calimendil with a brief bio of each.

[Valandil3430]

Hang in there, Celebrimbor. No need to rush it. Just be satisfied with the outcome.

I'm trying to wrap up a story I wanted to post by Christmas. I think I'll go ahead and post it here at The One Ring, along with my other place(s).

[Celebrimbor32]

It's sometimes hard not to rush through the ending of my tale, as I am eager to finish it once and for all. But I'm rewriting the ending now for the third time. Should be done soon

Valandil, what is your present story about, btw? I shall look forward to reading it once you get it posted up here!

[Valandil3430]

Don't want to tip my hat on it too much - I'm hoping some of the things may create some surprise, but I'm not sure they will... and I hate to endanger what little chance they have.

I will say this much though - the other two I've mentioned have been more focused on romance (Did you get a chance to check them out yet? If not - no big deal.). This next will definitely be an adventure story. I hope I'm up to the task of keeping it interesting.

If you want to watch for it though, I believe the title will be "Visitors Come to Court"

[Celebrimbor32]

I will say this much though - the other two I've mentioned have been more focused on romance (Did you get a chance to check them out yet? If not - no big deal.)

> If you mean your "Letters of Firiel", yes I have, actually. I've read the first three of them, I believe. Quite good and very interesting! Kind of reminds me of the Lewis and Clarke journals, which I've always enjoyed. However, I'm a little confused. I noticed other writers are also posting in that thread with entries of their own. Is that thread for all others to contribute whatever they want as well, even though they may not have anything to do with your Letters? ...I haven't registered on Entmoot yet but will continue to read through them. I usually have more time on the weekends to read and write.

I will be looking out for your new story here on TORC. So what Age and time period did you settle on for your next one? Or is that a secret too?