Of Winding Ways and Cunning Devices

On the day of Midsummer in the year 3261 of the second era you earned the crimson ribbon atop your lance, the mark of rider who had spilled blood in the service of Numenor, though perhaps it aught to have been not red, but black, the color of the orc blood you spilled upon the beaches in the south of Middle earth and among the crumbling cliffs near Sauron's port of Umbar. The orcs were as fierce and savage as the old takes told, but their crude armor was no ward against the song of the steelbows and the great fire plumps cunningly wrought in the guise of dragon's heads spewed forth a torrent of flame that sent them scurrying out of their holes like rats from a burning wreck.

Lo, that wreck was the of the works of Sauron for Ar-Pharazôn the Golden and all his host traveled through the lands of the slaves of Sauron, striking down his banners and hence his trumpeters proclaimed that these were to be the lands of the King. If the Men of Darkness who dwelt in these lands pay homage and tribute to him than they would be blessed with the guarding hand of Numenor against whom Sauron would not dare sally.

Some men of your company named the king wise for he challenged the wizard to sally forth or see his pride undone before his servants, though others muttered that not even the king with all the council of his alchemists, scholars, philosophers and embalmers from the Houses of the Fallen knew that Sauron Cruel would do. Ular was much in demand on those knights for he knew the lays of Beleriand of the forefathers which had fallen out of fashion outside of the West and those had much to say of Sauron, Lord of the Werewolves.

By the flickering light of the campfires it seemed to you that even the horses shuddered and drew close. But no baying of wolves came out from among the hills, only the cries of orcs driven by the whips of their masters to their doom against the snares and artifices, the pits and well ordered ranks of the Men of the West. The fear of old tales fades away like fog before the noonday sun and soon the men are laughing and placing bets as the bolt-throwers burl blow after blow even onto the trolls that come before you.

At last you come to the walls of Umbar, the great harbor city and capital of Sauron's dark realm, its walls smooth as glass, like proper heartstone and not the crude works of the tribes of this realm and you see there gates thrice closed and many strong towers.

The King sets his pavilion upon a knoll near the landward side of the city, golden silk woven through with rubies from the south that shine like a thousand drops of blood. Seven times the trumpets call out onto the morning light and on the seventh call the fleet draws near the shore their masts like a forest upon the water and it seems to you then as it by sorcery so great is the power and the majesty oft he king. But Ular shakes his head unmoved. "At least we know the heliograph is in order."

"Still you doubt us, still?" you motion to the great host behind you that filled the plain with camps and to the fleet that had no rival on all the seas of the world. "Still."

Your friend lowers his voice, and a friend he is indeed to admit this: "I doubt the wisdom of a man who surrounds himself with soothsayers and corpse defilers and at their bidding sets off to war.'

"Did you not see the lands we passed through?" you ask, amazed at his querulousness. "Are they not fit lands for great lords once the orcs are driven off and the locals brought to heel?"

"There are other lands, if only the king would bear the nearness of far more wholesome folk."

Before you can reply a great hush falls over the host for the thrice barred gates of Umbar open with the heaving of troll-flesh and a clang of iron bars but what comes then to meet the hosts of Numenor is not the howling mob or orcs and barbarians that you had expected, but a single figure garbed in silver and crimson. His eyes shone like silver and silver was the circlet upon his brow.


He was tall, as tall as any man of Numanor and though h wore no armor and bore no weapons he seemed for a moment to loom over all of you as the shadow of the gate wrapped around him and stretched out among the field of tents. Thus spoke the wizard Sauron in a voice sweeter than the sighs of harps: "Behold for I am undone, my servants have fled for before such might their spirits have failed. What can the wisdom of age do against such dreadful vital power. I cast myself upon your mercy oh Son of Light and Lord of the West."

What is Eriol's reaction to hearing voice of Sauron?

You have One (1) Bonus point

[] Fascination, here is one who even in defeat is great and lordly, one of the blood of those lesser men call gods (Cost 1 Bonus Point Gain Trait Black Numanorian, you are one of those who saw the wisdom of Sauron early and in some small way benefited from his rise +6 Learning +3 Intrigue Can learn some of the dark arts he brings to the land)

[] Vindication, behold one of those who was right hand of the Great Enemy as he kneels and begs for mercy of the King of Numanor (Gain 1 Bonus Point)

[] Revulsion, a trick of the light perhaps, a grain of sand in the eye, but as you blink he seems to you kin in spirit to the most loathsomeness men you have ever faced in a duel, killers with a bitter smile oiling their blades with poison (Cost 1 Bonus Point Gain Trait Clear-Sighted, they say the Edain saw through the deception of Morgoth long ago and turned their face from him, perhaps some glimmer of that wisdom shines in your gaze +1 Diplomacy +25 to all rolls to reveal trickery and deception.)

The gates of Umbar are unbarred, a city groaning with the treasures of a hundred conquered lands, the tribute of a thousand fearful princes and other stranger things. Where do Eriol's steps lead him?

First Choice is Free, each one after that costs 1 Bonus point:

[] The treasury, seat of wealth beyond the dreams of avarice, the merest fraction of which would be enough for a temperate man to live a life of easy for life, a less temperate one perhaps less so (Gain Wealth with which to found a small mercenary company, found a merchant house etc...)

[] The armory, more than the crude weapons of the orcs are held here, the craft of Sauron and his disciples in Sorcery (Gain one weapon or talisman of true power, perhaps of wholesome make perhaps.. not)

[] The dungeons, most would not think of the opportunity, but there is sure to be profit in freeing the prisoners of note within (Roll for friendly contacts with one of the other powers of Middle Earth)

[] The Library, books are more fragile than gold and silver, but rarer than gemstones... and unlike them you can both take them in your mind and pass them on (Rare tomes on subjects mundane and arcane Roll 2d6 for subject)

[] The stables, you stumble in and there you find... (A New Friend?)

OOC: First off apologies of Curufin, but that just looks like a better Sauron than all the other ones I found without armor. There were a lot of really cool ones but they were in full black plate and that is not the impression Annatar here is trying to make. Secondly if you were in a room with Sauron just the two of you he would have Eriol eating out of the palm of his hand... but it is not just the two of them, he is one more faceless soldier in the crowd. So while he focuses on the king and the high lords you have the chance to catch the merest glimpse of what he is and of course having done that mere human trickery is going to be easier to catch. Alternatively there are advantages to be reaped in his shadow if you are among the first to fall. Or you can go along with most of the rest of the crowd, be smug about the victory and get a bonus point to spend elsewhere.