Westernesse: A Númenórean Colony Quest

Telamon · Aug 17, 2019

"Thus it came to pass in that time that the Númenóreans first made great settlements upon the west shores of the ancient lands; for their own land seemed to them shrunken, and they had no rest or content therein, and they desired now wealth and dominion in Middle-earth, since the West was denied. Great harbours and strong towers they made, and there many of them took up their abode; but they appeared now rather as lords and masters and gatherers of tribute than as helpers and teachers. And the great ships of the Númenóreans were borne east on the winds and returned ever laden, and the power and majesty of their kings were increased; and they drank and they feasted and they clad themselves in silver and gold. "

A Lord of the Rings Quest

S.A 2755

It is the Second Age of Middle-Earth.

The mighty island nation of Númenor, founded long centuries ago in the western seas, has become the greatest of all the realms of the world. The men of that land have become the masters of the sea and the coasts of the earth, far outstripping any other kindred of Men in both wealth and majesty. While the people of the Continent have suffered and shuddered under the power of the Dark Lord Sauron, the Númenóreans have prospered and grown mighty, pushing Sauron back from the coasts of Middle-Earth and claiming them as their own.

Yet though they have grown greater than the Shadow, a long darkness has fallen upon the hearts of the Men of the West. Envious of the Elves and their immortality, a powerful faction has arisen in Númenor, calling themselves the King's Men. Speaking openly against the Elves and their iron grip on undying life, they seek to free themselves from the curse of death and take what they believe is their rightful place as the masters of the World. Opposing them are the Faithful, those men of Númenor who remember still the friendship between elves and Men in Elder Days, and do not stand in favor of the conquest of the 'lesser' men of Middle-Earth. Yet for centuries the protests of the Faithful have been in vain, and now the reigning King, Tar-Calmacil, has embarked on a policy of expansion and domination all along the coasts of the world. There will be nowhere the tide rolls, he has proclaimed, that any shall live and not know the glory of Númenor.

At his word, a great bevy of ships has sprung forth from the Blessed Isle. Driven by the proclamations of the King and a desire to see new lands, hundreds of ambitious young men rush to seek the riches of Middle-Earth. Vying to claim a foothold in the new lands, many of the various powers and factions of Númenor finance these new colonies, hoping to grow their influence in Middle-Earth. The coasts of the continent are swarmed with settlers and colonial hopefuls, and now is a time when someone of vision and skill might make a name for themselves in the wide lands across the sea.

Someone like you.

You are a mariner, as were your father and your father's father before you, and have been given special leave by the Guild of Venturers to mount an expedition to found a new colony in Middle-Earth. You will be one of the Sea-Lords of Númenor, a master of cave and cove and shore. Yet it will be no easy task, for though the Númenóreans are mighty in word and deed, the perils of the continent are many -- the foul creations of the Shadow roam every corner of the world, beasts of unnatural shape and cruel strength who serve the Dark Lord in all things. There are many Men of Darkness in the thrall of the Enemy, and many also of your distant cousins, the 'Middle Men' who, though free, do not desire to see their lands and their homes tamed by the Sea-Kings -- and both of these will resist you. And of course, there are always powers back home who desire to control your colony and see it turned to support their own endeavors.

Last and worst of all, the Dark Lord Sauron of Mordor still holds sway over much of Middle-Earth, the ancient and implacable Enemy of all the races of the world. Upon his finger burns the One, the Ruling Ring to command all others, and his power has grown terrible indeed with the long centuries. Beware him, and beware his reach, for his shadow falls far over the world.

The shores of the world are far and wide, yet distance is no barrier to the lords of the sea, who rule the rivers and the coasts. The Guild of Venturers has selected several locations which should prove to be ideal for a colony -- wherever the water rolls, there too is Númenor.

[] The Harnen: Well over 600 miles long, the river Harnen begins at the southern borders of the Dark Land of Mordor, and tumbles down into a great bay which opens into the sea. A colony along the Harnen would be well situated to grow fat and rich off of trade with the dark-skinned folk of Near Harad, who have so long toiled under the service of the Dark Lord. Situated this closely to Mordor, your colony would by necessity need to be vigilant against the power of the Dark Lord, and would act as a Númenórean bastion against Sauron. To the east of your land lies the shadow-shrouded and mysterious plains of Khand, where dwell the Varaigs, the Men of the East. To the deep south lies the Far Harad, a vast and unexplored land of swirling sands and deep jungles. Some ways south of the Harnen's mouth lies situated the great Haven of Umbar, mightiest of the colonies of Númenór. It is ruled by the King's Men and given to conquest and war, and would prove a boon friend -- or a terrible enemy. You will sail up the Harnen and found your colony in Harad, where the stars are strange.

[] The Anduin: The Anduin, the aptly-named Great River, is the mightiest river in Middle-Earth, and spills across much of the wide and plentiful land to the west of Mordor. It is to these plentiful lands that many of the Faithful have fled the strife in Numenor, establishing small colonies and strongholds across the land. Mightiest of the cities along the Anduin is Pelargir, a haven of the Faithful and among the mightiest seaports in Middle-Earth. The land around the Anduin is a wild land still, ruled by Northmen and harassed by raiders from the East under the banner of the Dark Lord. Tamed and settled however, it might prove bountiful beyond belief, a breadbasket of the Numenorean realm. You sail up the Anduin and establish a colony on it's shores, in the land known as Ithilien, the place of the moon.

[] Anfalas: There is a wide stretch of land north-west of the Bay of Belfalas, called Anfalas, the Long-Shore. Few Numenoreans dwell here, or any men indeed, and much of the land surrounding it is held still by wild men and beasts. Untamed and untouched by Numenorean feet, it would be an ideal location for a colony, yet would be far from any aid if disaster should befall. The nearest Numenoran colony is Belfalas, where a mighty family of Elf-Friends has established a powerful colony near the Elven haven of Edhellond. The Elf-Friends and the Elves may well be interested in the gold that is rumored to dwell in the White Mountains to the north of Anfalas. You sail to the coast of Anfalas and establish a colony upon it's shores, in the Long Shore where few dwell.

[] The Isen: There is a mighty river in the central part of Middle-Earth, known as the Isen for it's iron color, which runs through all the lands of Enedwaith. A wild, unforested, and untamed land is Enedwaith, and the men who share that land's name, the Enedwaithrim, are a wild and mighty sort. To the far north of Enedwaith is the land called Eregion, or the Hollin, where once in elder days dwelt the Elf-smith Celebrimbor, who forged the Rings of Power. Eregion is long destroyed by Sauron, but something of the Elves may remain there. To your east lie the Misty Mountains, and the mighty dwarven realm of Khazad-Dum, which has isolated itself from all the world. If one could make friends with the Longbeard Dwarves and their famed mines, then they might become wealthiest of all the colonies of Numenor. You sail up the Isen and establish a colony at it's mouth.

[] Minhiriath: Minhiriath, in the far north of Middle Earth, was the first land settled by the Númenóreans. Deforested by your people in their thirst for ships and later ravaged in the wars against Sauron, this land has been making a slow recovery for centuries. The largest port here is Lond Daer, at the mouth of the River Greyflood. Long ago it was called Vinyalonde, the New-Haven, and was the first Númenórean colony, but it has declined in latter days to a shell of this glory. To the west lies the realm of Lindon, ruled by the High King of the Noldor, Erenion Gil-Galad. The King's Men often avoid these lands, hating as they do the Elves and their ways, and do not trade with those who dwell in Minhiriath, the 'Elf-Lovers', as they call them. In these lands dwell the Minhiriathrim, Men of Darkness who were decimated first by the first Númenórean settlers and later by Sauron. They hate elves, orcs, and men alike with a passion, and will attack your new colony. This far from Númenór, few eyes will be upon you or your deeds, for better or ill. You sail to the shores of Minhiriath and establish a colony there.

Yet a location alone is not enough. Every new colony is sponsored by one of the factions or groups in Númenór, who have interests across the sea and upon the shores. Without support and supplies from back home, a prospective colony would certainly wither and die. Every sponsor has different goals and designs, and keeping them happy and delivering results is perhaps among the main goals of any colony. Who sponsors your expedition?

[] The Guild of Venturers: Based from the massive ship Eambar, the Sea-Home, the Guild of Venturers are a guild of mapmakers, mariners, explorers, and travelers. They have mapped the shores and coasts of Middle-Earth, and their hundreds of thousands of ships sail the furthest corners of the world. Wherever rolls the sea or the tide, there too are the Venturers. Supposedly apolitical and removed from the quarrels of the home isle, Guild-sponsored colonies devote themselves to exploring the far reaches of Middle-Earth and launching great expeditions into the interior of the land, meeting new peoples, and building new vessels with which to search the seas. The Guild will naturally provide you with a skilled Shipwright, a Guild explorer, and enough colonists to act as a base for your first expedition.

[] The King's Men: Proud, warlike, and mighty in strength and wealth, the King's Men are the dominant faction in Númenór. Personally favored by the King, they support actions which increase Númenór's military might and colonial dominions, and will fund military expeditions against Middle Men, Men of Darkness, and the servants of Sauron. They speak Adunaic, the tongue of Numenor, and frown on fraternization with elves, for whom they envy their endless lives. The colonies of the King's Men are large, well-armed, and among the mightiest cities in Middle-Earth. They seek a cure to the curse of death, and a path to life without end, which some among their number hope may be found in the Eastern lands that even the elves know not. The King's Men shall arm you and send you wealth and swords in great measure.

[] The Faithful: The Nimruzurim, called among themselves the Elf-Friends and the Faithful, are those of Númenór who keep to the old ways, who speak the elven tongues and maintain friendship with the Elves. A dwindling minority in Númenór proper, they have established many colonies in Middle-Earth where their people can dwell beyond the reach of the King's Men. They seek to raise up and educate the Middle Men, though they still war against the Men of Darkness, and keep the elves as friends. They will fund expeditions to find things out of Elder Days and to spread the knowledge of Elenna to your cousins in the dark lands under Sauron's grip. The knowledge and the lore of the Faithful is a boon out of elder days, and they know the old magic of the world that the King's Men have disadained as Elven witchcraft.

[] The Guild of Shapers: The largest of all the guilds save for the Venturers, the Guild of Shapers arms the hosts of Númenór, designs the high towers and sloped domes of her cities, and has made many fair and mighty works in the centuries since your people landed on the Blessed Isle. In recent years, their influence and power has grown enough that they now seek to establish colonies on the mainland and exert their influence on the world. Like all the guilds, they are supposedly apolitical, and are not ill-disposed to alliances with elves or dwarves should it help them better their craft. They seek ever and always new sources of metal for their crafts, and old knowledge long lost to the world. Having sponsored no colonies before, the Guild has thrown all of it's considerable resources behind your new venture, but has deeply angered the Guild of Venturers, who view this intrusion into their dominion in an ill light. With few colonists and few ships, your main resource will be the wealth of your sponsors in the Guild and their knowledge of crafting.

Númenóreans live long lives, longer than those of mortal men. Most will see a century and a half at least before their hair begins to grey, and with such long lives, colonies are defined intrinsically by the men who found them and guide them through their first years. Locations and backers are vital, but a colony's most important asset is it's founder. If he is warlike, his people will be warlike. If he loves the sea, so shall those who follow after. There were many mariners in competition to be selected for this expedition, but in the end, only one won out: you.

Name: What you are called among the tall men of Númenór. To have a name in Adunaic, the mannish tongue, is favored by the King's Men, while names in Sindarin, the Elvish tongue, are favored by the Faithful and the elves. Yours is an old name with an old history...

[] Adunazhôr (strong-star, Adunaic)
[] Elthalion (strong-star, Sindarin)
[] Azruphêl (sea-daughter, Adunaic)
[] Gaeriel (sea-daughter, Sindarin)
[] Imrazôr (great-flame, Adunaic)
[] Belenor (great-flame, Sindarin)
[] Ûrînzil (sun-flower, Adunaic)
[] Elanoth (sun-flower, Sindarin)
[] Write-In

Gender: The great gifts of the Tall Men do not discriminate -- men and women alike are great in strength and skill and length of life. Though ancient tradition and unspoken practice mean that not all are equal on the Blessed Isle, many women of Númenor have abandoned the land of their birth, and so risen higher than their fathers and brothers on the shores of Middle-Earth.

[] Male: You are a son of Númenóre, descended in a line unmingled from the Edain of old.

[] Female: You are a daughter of the Blessed Isle, descended in a line unmingled from the heroes of yore. Some among the Lesser Men may not treat a woman with the same respect as a man -- but what matter this to you? You are a Númenórean, and better than them in every way.

Background: You are a mariner, like many in Númenór -- a child of the seas. In your long years upon the waves, you have seen and done much, and some of these skills may be bent towards your new background.

[] The Battler: You have spent many long years in the south warring against Sauron and his servants in those lands. You have seen the jungles of the Serpent Kings of Harad, and done great battle with the mumakil out of the deep deserts. Horrors you have seen upon the southern seas, and terrible sea-wyrms rising from the deep at the call of the servants of Mordor. You still bear the scars of those battles. You have been selected by the Guild to lead this new colony due to your long experience with war and battle, and many men of war who once served under you flock to join your colony.

[] The Explorer: You have won yourself fame and renown for your explorations of the eastern seas and the further coasts of Middle-Earth. You have seen the wide lands beyond Harad and Rhun, and sailed seas strange and wild beyond the imagination of men. Greatest of all your possessions is your mighty ship that has carried you across eastern wave and southern sea, and brought you at long last to home. The Guild hopes your long experience with foreign places and peoples will serve the new colony well.

[] The Lord: You are the third son of a mighty noble lineage who has chosen to strike out on his own. Your forefathers have long been lords of a mighty port in the east of Númenór, and ruled over the lands there, gaining wealth and influence from this trade. Descended from a long line of sea-lords, you have a ready-made population of people ready to serve you in a new colony, and a sizeable amount of wealth as well.

[] The Shaper: You were one of the Sea-Shapers, the artificers and smiths who sail with every fleet and expedition to maintain their weapons and service their ships. Your works, like the works of all Shapers, are a blending of the magic of the elves and the technological might of men -- ships that sail without sail, lights that glow without a flame, and bows which fire arrows for leagues unerring. Your long experience maintaining the technological marvels of Numenor should serve you well in your new colony.

Traits: No man is the same as the next, and over a hundred years of life have left you with skills and traits all your own. What is it that sets you apart from the other sea-lords? (Pick Two)

[] Pharazôn, the Golden: You sailed as merchant for a time, and grew great in wealth and influence off this trade.
[] Kâthuphazgân, the Conqueror: In you burns a desire to master and rule and hold influence over other men, to see the lands of Middle-Earth bowed low before your name.
[] Nimruzîr, the Elf-Friend: You are counted among the close friends of the Elven race in the Second Age of the Sun, and are held with high esteem in all their lands.
[] Phazân, the Royal-Blooded: One of your mother's ancestors was a prince of Númenór. In you flows the royal blood of the line of kings, which is the blood of elves and gods. You are taller, stronger, faster, and will live longer than most in Númenór.
[] Sakalthôn, the Child of the Shore: You were born in one of Númenór's colonies, not the realm proper. Though derided for this by those born on the island, it gives you greater relations with the colonies and those who rule them.
[] Sapthân, the Wise: You are a Loremaster, learned in the ancient arts of the world, in the history of the elves and men, and in the old words that could shape stone and bend sea. Lesser-minded men might call you a wizard.
[] Miyâtan, the Twinned: You were born doubled, and are an identical twin. Sailing with you on your journey is your twin brother, like you in spirit and form.
[] Izindu-bêth, the Farseeing: You were born with the rare gift of Sight, the ability to see glimpses of the shifting future in dreams. This ability is revered among the Middle Men, and respected in Númenór.
[] Balkumagân, the Shipwright: You are a Shipwright, studied and learned in the secret ways of the Guild of Venturers, capable of making and shaping the mighty ships of Númenór which may sail for days without wind and are the mightiest vessels ever set to sea. The Shipwrights are a class of their own in Númenór, sacrosanct and revered above all save the King, for their knowledge is the bedrock of the empire.
[] Azgadûn, the Warrior of the West: You were once one of the Azgadûn, the elite guard of the King of Númenór. Tireless, sleepless, and undefeated in battle, the prowess of the Azgadûn is feared wherever the sails of Númenór are known, and are perhaps the greatest warriors among all mortal men.

On a dim summer day in the 18th year of the reign of Tar-Calmacil, who was called by the King's Men Ar-Belzagar the Conqueror, you and your fleet set forth from the eastern coast of the Blessed Isle to fling the shining lamp of Westernesse into the darkness of Middle-Earth. The colonies and cities you shall found, the deeds you and your people shall do, will doubtless be the stuff of legend in later days.

Telamon · Aug 17, 2019

The City-Under-The-Stars

At the mouth of the black river Angren, on the shores of the Belegaer, lies the Númenórean colony known as Târ Nîlon. Founded by Imrazôr the Shaper in the eighteenth year of the reign of Ar-Belzagar the Conqueror, it stands as Númenór's premier outpost in the middle lands of the continent, straddling the wide land between the great wilderness of Minhiriath and the eastern sprawl of Rhovanion. Though small and newly-founded, the city burns star-bright in the shadow of the Misty Mountains, a glimmering reflection of the glory which is Númenór.

Population

The city's population is diverse, drawing from across the vast breadth of Númenór. The greatest bulk of the initial colonists hail from Andustar, in Númenór's west: bold Faithful stout of heart and strong of spirit who have settled along the spine of the Angren, near the running waters of the black river. Large numbers of Romennans, born seamen, have settled along the shores of the Angren, where they may gaze out across the sea. An enclave of Hyarrostari, the small and shrewd men of Númenór's south, have settled on the outskirts of the city, helping to tame the thick woods around the river. Scattered among these are a number of Forrostari, stout workers hard of body who have thrown their backs into the development of the city proper. A handful of Mittalmari round out the colony, hardworking King's Men whose experience tilling the soil has proven valuable in the colony's early days.

A great number of Middle-Men have settled in the lands around the city, throwing up solid homesteads and farms.

All together, these number some two thousand and six.

The colony is almost two years old, and the King's Men have emerged as a solid group, united primarily in opposition to your deepening friendship with the elves. The larger portion of the Middle-Men in the city call themselves the Men of Sunlight, and, grateful for their new livelihoods, have quickly formed a solid block of strong support for you and your rulership. The colony is politically organized into divisions of a few hundred each, each of which is represented by an elected Speaker who informs the Sea-Lord of the views of his constituents. There are currently 7 Speakers.

Military

The 'army' of the colony is small, but growing daily, and consists currently of some nine hundred able-bodied folk that could be raised to the colony's defense in an emergency. This militia is roughly organized and semi-trained, and many of it's members are equipped with weapons of brittle bog iron. There exists also a small scout force of Rangers, lightly armored scouts equipped with bows who number some sixty-odd men and women.

Your fleet consists of the fourteen ships which carried your people and supplies here, though they are not built for combat, and of Inzilbeth's pride and joy, the Pillar of Heaven. A fully crewed Númenórean warship with bristling masts and a gleaming hull, the Pillar is more than a fair match for any other ship upon the seas.

Guild Influence

The Guild of Shapers have the greatest influence over the city at the moment, providing most of your backing and resources. They have poured a great deal into this venture, and stand to lose much should it fail.

The Guild of Venturers has little direct influence over the colony currently, though the foundation of a colony by the Shapers has greatly angered them towards you, causing them to place an embargo on all Guild dealings with your colony, harming your trading potential greatly. Dealings with them will be sour until you make steps towards appeasement.

The Guild of Workers has no influence on the colony at the moment. Their power in the continent is weak, and your colony does not even have a large enough workforce to currently even merit a guild representative.

The Guild of Striders has no influence on the colony at the moment. There are mercenary companies and exploratory groups across the continent, and they trust you will have need of their services sooner rather than later. The Nardū̆ are patient.

The Pharazarim have no influence over the colony at the moment. There is no wealth to be found here just yet.

Heroes

Imrazôr, the Sea-Lord of Târ Nîlon: Yourself. A distant descendant of the royal line of the Kings, you are a studied Shaper and a skilled loremaster, an expert in many arts. You are counted among the Wise, a master of old songs and secret words, studied in the deep secrets of the world and the old songs of the elves. The colony is yours, and by this right you are not only a master Shaper, but a Sea-Lord of Númenór, a lord of cave and cove and shore.
Ûrîphêl, Lady Shaper: A brilliant, cold, and ambitious Lady Shaper, Ûrîphêl is one of the greatest students the Houses of Learning have ever produced, and the youngest Lord Shaper in the history of the Guild. Despite all this, she abandoned a prestigious career and a life of luxury in Armenelos to accompany you on this colonial venture, for reasons as yet unknown to you. She brings with her her household, her retinue, and her own unmatched mind. Inscrutable to say the least, she is an enigma even to those close to her.
Inzilbeth, the Seastrider: Inzilbeth, called the Seastrider, is the famed captain of the Pillar of Heaven, who for years served as a renowned warrior in the fleets of Númenór, and afterwards continued to serve the Blessed Isle as an explorer and a venturer. She has seen the furthest corners of the world, and has earned herself a legendary reputation among the mortal men of the continent, whose grandfathers' fathers have for generations passed down awestruck tales of the Pillar of Heaven and it's captain. One of the most accomplished mariners to ever grace the western seas, she has joined your decidedly land-bound venture out of obligation for your old friendship.
Barazîr, the First-Ranger: Barazîr, captain of the Rangers of the City and foremost among your hunters, is an odd man to define. He is short of stature and dark of hair, speaking little with others and preferring instead to spend his days in the wild far from friends or companionship. The only time his icy heart stirs, it seems, is when the hunt begins. He has strange old eyes, and it is said among his followers that he fears neither death or doom, and laughs --harsh and terrible, like the baying of the hounds-- only when the hunt is on.

They tell many tales of him in the wild, and he is beloved of the Middle-Men.

The Realms of Middle-Earth

Numenor is mightiest among the powers of the world in the Second Age, but they are not alone among the realms of Middle-Earth. The Elves and the Dwarves survive and persist still, in their golden forests and their iron halls. Here are listed those who would claim to be peers of the Blessed Isle:

Lorinand: The Land of the elven King Amdir, and his son Amroth. Beneath these golden eaves are gathered many of the Sindarin Elves, but also many of their cousins, the Noldorin Elves who survived the war with Sauron in the early Second Age, and so hold much of the knowledge and power of the dwindling Elven Race. The warriors of Lorinand, known as the Amdirim, are matchless in war.
Edhellond and Dor-en-Ernil: In the lands between the Anduin and the Gwathlo have settled a great host of Silvan Elves, the wood-elves of bough and birch, at mighty city called Edhellond, the Elf-Dwelling, ruled by the Lady Galadriel and the Lord Celeborn. Their settlement on the shores of Belfalas coexists with a settlement of Numenoreans called Dor-en-Ernil, and it's inhabitants are elf-friends who share land and love alike with the elves.
The Woodland Realm: Beneath the eaves of the mighty northern forest of Greenwood dwells Oropher the Elvenking, and his people, the Sindarin elves. Reclusive, isolated, and powerful, the Sindarin Elves dwell in relative peace in their sprawling northern forest, and deal little with Men or other Elves.
The Nenuiathrim: The Lake-Men of Evendim, ancient friends of the Numenoreans in days long gone by, who have soured into strangers in the long years since.
The Byriaig: The primary dwellers of Enedwaith. Ancient cousins of the House of Beor through many years, one-time enemies of Numenor and masters of Eriador, now reduced almost to nothing. Their clans are still many, and proud, and clever. Their chieftains were kings in all the north once, and dream of being so again.
The Fisherfolk: In the swamps of Enedwaith dwell a long-limbed people with sharp eyes. They are an odd and surly people, given to shadow and water, but they speak the tongue of the Men of the West, and so are reckoned among your people as Men of the Twilight.
The Kingdom of Lindon: Known as Ossiriand in Elder Days, the land now called Lindon stands beyond the Ered Luin, the Blue Mountains, far to the north of Minhiriath. Here are gathered the last of the High Elves of Elder Days, who once brought ruin and fire upon the world. Their High-King is Ereinion Gil-Galad, greatest of the Elvenkings.
Khazad-Dum, the Dwarrowdelf: Beneath the Misty Mountains in the heart of Middle-Earth, the Longbeard Dwarves have tunneled a vast and mighty kingdom under the stone. Richer and more beautiful still than even the spires of Armenelos in Numenor is the Dwarrowdelf of Durin's Folk, greatest of all the mansions of the dwarves, that few men living have ever seen.
The Naûdmegin, the Dwarf-Friends: In the moors north of Rivendell lies a confederation of many rich tribes of Men, ancient dwarf-friends of yore, who have many wonders given as gifts by their friends beneath the mountain.
Rivendell, the Last Homely House: In a valley in the north of Minhiriath lies a mighty mansion fair and great in the wild, a place of learning and brotherhood unlike any in the world still. This is Rivendell, the Last Homely House, where dwells the Elf-Lord Elrond Halfelven and his people.
Mordor: In the east of Middle-Earth lies the Dark Land, Mordor, ruled by a spirit of horror and terror out of elder days: Sauron, the Dark Lord, called by men the Enemy and the Wizard. In centuries gone by, he tricked the elves of Eregion into forging the Rings of Power, and created the One Ring to rule them all. His armies are vast and mighty, and though Numenor has grown to become a match for him, the Dark Lord is yet a force to be reckoned with.
Gundabad: Once called the Mountain of the Dwarves, Gundabad was among the most revered sites of all the dwarven race. Orcs rule there now, goblin-princes and uruk-kings who dwell in the defiled halls of stone and tunnel their vast empires in the dark under the world. A power has arisen there now, a Master with dominion over the squabbling orcs, a Power whose hand might soon stretch out over all the west. Gundabad stirs.

If you have little to no experience with Tolkien's universe, that's fine. Here, I'll lay out some of the most basic elements of the quest, so that you can read it without being baffled. The informational posts provide in-depth looks at various (canon and quest-invented) parts of the universe, but the absolute most need-to-know is this:

What is Númenór?
The Blessed Isle, the Land of the Star, Westernesse, Andor, or simply The Gift -- it has many names, but to put it simply, Númenór is a star-shaped island in the western sea off the coast of Middle-Earth, raised from the sea as a paradise for the Men of the West. It's the westernmost settlement of mortals in all the world, and from the western shore you can glimpse Valinor on the horizon. According to Tolkien, it's the fairest realm in which men have ever dwelt.

Woah, that's a whole lot of concepts! Who are the Men of the West?
The Men of the West, or Edain, were those men who sided with the elves and the Valar against the Dark Lord in the First Age. They suffered a lot, but for their bravery were rewarded immensely: their lifespans were doubled, they became taller than all other men in the world (six foot on average), and were taught many things by the elves. Now they call themselves the Númenóreans, and they've become very good sailors and explorers -- it's said they've sailed all the seas of the world.

Okay, so wait, what's a Valar? And what's Valinor?
The Valar are the Powers Of The World, great spirits who built the earth itself from scratch. You might be tempted to call them gods, but they're not. They're actually servants of the big guy, Eru Iluvatar (aka The One) who's more hands-off than most deities in fantasy. Their job is to make sure creation is nice and safe for the Children of Illuvatar -- those being the races of elves and men. They're very powerful, but rarely interfere in mortal affairs. Valinor is their kingdom in the far west, where mere mortals are not allowed to sail.

Okay, and what's going on with the Elves? They live in forests and sing and stuff, right?
Some of them do, but not all. The Elves are the oldest of the races of the world, and the most weary of it, since they can never die. In the First Age the Elves had many powerful kingdoms and fought great wars against the Dark Lord (and sometimes each other). After the epic battle that ended the First Age, many of them got tired of the world and left over the sea to Valinor to wait out eternity in paradise. But there are still a lot left, running their own kingdoms and cities all over the continent (only some of which are in forests).

Right, so is there anything else I need to know?
Middle-Earth is a big continent. There's a lot of stuff kicking around. The Dwarves have their kingdoms in the mountains (you'll run into them later), and there are various groups and civilizations of men running around, though a whole lot of the land is wild and unsettled at this point. The continent continues far the south and east, but most people don't know what lies in those directions (except the Númenóreans, who've explored a lot). Other than the Dark Lord, there's not really much else to --

Wait, wait, the Dark Lord? You mean Sauron? I thought this was before Lord of the Rings?
Indeed it is. But Sauron's defeat in Lord of the Rings is only the endpoint of several thousand years of making everyone everywhere very miserable. See, Sauron survived the war that ended the First Age, when his boss, the first Dark Lord (long story) was defeated. He created a kingdom of his own, called Mordor, and started pumping out orcs, trolls, dragons, and other nasties. He's been terrorizing the world for thousands of years at this point.

What about these Valar guys? You said they're very powerful, they're just letting this happen?
The Valar are supposed to be hands-off, and they try to be, even though they do sympathize. Unless the world is about to be destroyed (or something equally serious) they won't step in. And Sauron doesn't have the juice for that.

What about the Númenóreans? The Valar taught them, can't they do something?
Yes they can, but for a very long time they didn't care about Middle-Earth. But the elves appealed to them for help when Sauron invaded their kingdoms, and finally they got off their asses and defeated him. Very easily, in fact. He ran back to Mordor with his tail between his legs.

Easily? But that's the bad guy of the whole Lord of the Rings! The Númenóreans must be very strong.
Oh, they are. Maybe too strong for their own good. After beating Sauron, the Númenóreans have started to settle the coasts of Middle-Earth, creating colonies of their own. Sauron hasn't liked this one bit, and regularly sends forces to attack them -- which is just fine by the Númenóreans. Nothing like killing a couple thousand orcs to make the centuries fly by.

What's the problem? Sounds like everything's fine for everyone.
Oh, it is. It's a golden age. This is the best the race of Men have ever had it. But the Númenóreans, remember, are still mortal. They might live for 200, 300, even 400 years, but they do die. And they start to hate that fact, especially in light of the fact that the elves get to be immortal and ageless. They can see Valinor from their island, and some of them start to get it into their heads that it's going there that makes you immortal. A few of them have even begun to whisper that the Valar are hoarding immortality for themselves.

Oh no. I think I see where this is going.
The Númenóreans start to get more and more pissy about the whole thing. They start turning away elvish visitors and refusing to praise the Valar or give them respect. Many of them quit speaking the elvish languages they were taught and start using their own language, Adunaic, out of spite. They grow more warlike and cold, and their wise men become obsessed with finding a cure for death out of spite. They begin coming to Middle-Earth not as friends or helpers, but as masters and rulers. They don't mess with the elves directly just yet, but other, regular men are fair game, and there's little those guys can do to resist them.

And? What next?!
And nothing. That's where the story starts. A shadow lies over the hearts of the Númenóreans, though they're now more powerful than any other mortal realm has ever been. As I bet you've gathered by now, the path they're on doesn't lead them to a nice place...but you'll have to play on to find out.

Telamon · Aug 18, 2019

Here is gathered information on the Kingdom of Númenór, the Men who rule it, and the state of Arda in the closing years of the Second Age.

The History Of Númenór

In the dark days of the First Age, there were two sons born to Earendil the Mariner, greatest of the heroes of the world in those days. Earendil was one of the Peredhil, the Half-Elven, and the Valar, the gods, loved him so that they granted his sons and all Peredhil born of his line the ability to choose which half of their blood to follow -- to decide whether they wanted to be mortal men or deathless elves. The first of Earendil's sons, Elrond, chose immortality and undeath, and so became in later days the wisest and greatest of all the lords of the elven-race remaining in Middle-Earth. His twin brother, Elros, became a man, greater and mightier in stature than any other, and his lifespan, and the lifespan of his sons, stretched far greater than that of mere men, or even Numenoreans.

For the actions of the race of men in the First Age against Morgoth, the first Dark Lord, the Valar granted the Edain, the men of the west, a mighty island in the Western Seas to call their own. Elros, now crowned a King of Men, led his people across the oceans to the island, which they called Elenna, the Blessed Isle, for it was the closest of all the realms of men to the Undying Lands of the Valar. Elros named himself Tar-Minyatur, the First-Ruler, and the realm he and his people founded on Elenna was called Numenor, and ever after it was the greatest and mightiest of all the Realms of Men that ever were and would ever be. Elros lived long, five hundred years of the Sun, and when he passed, his sons succeeded him.

And so his line continued, from Tar-Varmadir to Tar-Amandil, and the Kings of Numenor were mighty in their day, until the time of Tar-Atanamir, the Great. In his day, the Numenoreans began to speak against the Valar. Despite all their long life and great knowledge, death, the Doom of Men, took them in the end. A great lust for immortality began to sour their hearts, and in his end Tar-Atanamir refused to relinquish his rule until his death, and ruled into senility. So began, some say, the darkness that would be the downfall of Numenor. After him, the Kings of Numenor turned against the Valar and the Eldar, and refused to speak the tongues of the elves, and there were many in Numenor who followed, naming themselves the 'King's Men'. Those who did not became the Faithful, and remained friends with the Eldar for long after.

As the ages passed, the Numenoreans grew more and more assured of their own power, and threw up settlements along the coast of Middle-Earth, dominating the 'lesser' men who lived there. The Numenoreans even began to reject the titles of the Kings, naming themselves not in elvish Quenya, as their fathers had, but in Numenorean Adunaic. They subjugated much of Middle-Earth, and their pride became greater than ever before, for they imagined themselves lords without equal. To feed their empire's hunger for ships, they deforested vast swathes of inland Middle-Earth, driving back all who lived in the forests and devastating the lands. The Middle Men who lived in these forests, their distant cousins, tried desperately to defy them -- to no avail.

In the centuries since, Numenor's power and pride has openly swelled, growing to rival even that of the Dark Lord Sauron, who is the principal enemy of the Numenorean people in these later days. Common cause against Mordor has kept Numenor unified this long, but as the Blessed Isle quickly outstrips the Dark Lord in power and influence, the hearts of Men grow darker, and ancient grudges wake to new hatred. The mightiest enemy the Numenoreans will face in the coming years may not be any thing of Shadow, but the Numenoreans themselves.

The Guilds

The Guilds are among the principal powers of Numenor. Early in her history, they were merely associations of like-minded craftsmen and skilled workers, but over the long centuries have grown into massive organizations which are themselves vital to the continued operation of the burgeoning Numenorean empire. There are dozens of Guilds, but the five most powerful are the Guild of Venturers, the Guild of Shapers, the Guild of Striders, the Guild of Workers, and the Pharazari, called by some the Guild of Gold. A representative from each of these guilds (save the Pharazari) sits upon the Council of the Sceptre and advises the King. These representatives are known collectively as the Guildlords of Numenor.

The Guild of Venturers: The first and the oldest of the guilds, the Guild of Venturers was founded in the year S.A 750 by King Tar-Aldarion, the great explorer and sailor. Based upon the titanic ship Eämbar, the Sea-Home, the Guild controls all of Numenor's non-military naval ventures, such as exploration and colonization. They have mapped all the coasts of Middle-Earth from East to West, and sponsor constant expeditions to distant lands to fill in gaps in their knowledge. All ports have a guild office and a representative, and all harbors are their domain. Most powerful among the Venturers are the guild-within-a-guild, the Balkumagâni, or the Shipwrights. It is the Shipwrights alone who know how to build and maintain the mighty ships of Numenor, which sail without wind and do not sink in storms. The guildlord of the Venturers is elected by lot from among their captains, and is called the Balkhuzan, the Steerer of the Ships and the Great Captain of Numenor's fleets. The current Balkhuzan is Anduroth of the High Hand, captain of the Ember of Arda and famed for his wide travels.
The Guild of Shapers: With centuries to live and entire generations with which to perfect their craft, the Numenorean craftsmen have advanced in skill and might beyond even the greatest works of the Elves of Elder Days, or so they tell themselves. Several hundred years after the founding of the Guild of Venturers, the various builders, the smiths, and weaponmakers of Numenor gathered together to form an organization to represent their interests and work towards the advancement of their common knowledge. Thus was born the Guild of Shapers, who call themselves Zimrailai, the Men of Jewels (Mirrim in the elvish speech) -- after the Elf-Smith Feanor, and his jewels of living light that were the greatest works ever crafted in all the world. Their guildlord is called the Zimrakhor, or the High Shaper. The current High Shaper is Berecil Elendoriliath, long hailed as the greatest smith on the isle.
The Guild of Striders: The Guild of Venturers, being primarily sea-based, hires former soldiers and mercenaries to explore inland on their behalf when they have the need for such, and map the inland regions of Middle-Earth. Just fifty short years ago, some several hundred of these explorers banded together to form the Guild of Striders. By far the youngest of the Guilds, they do not have much influence or power in Numenor proper, but their necessity to the Guild of Venturers and their expeditions has quickly made them vital in the colonies and outlying provinces of the empire, where they serve as scouts and mercenaries, and are often the first and only line of defense between a lonely colony and the forces of Sauron. They refer to themselves as the Nardū̆, the soldiers, and their guildlord, the Azgarban, is elected from among the most successful of their captains. The current Azgarban is Erentur the Ship-Breaker, lord of the mercenary company known as the Nine Hundred.
The Guild of Workers: After several centuries, the constant pressure which the Shapers put on those who built their mighty towers and delved their mines was too much for the common workers of Numenor, who banded together to form a guild of their own, the Zabathani -- literally, the Humble Ones, called also the Magâni, or the Builders. In their power, they now control all miners, builders, and laborers on the Blessed Isle itself, granting them an immense amount of negotiating power with the other Guilds. To escape their influence, the Venturers and the Shapers often outsource their projects to the colonies, where the influence of the Guild of Workers is less. The workers have no single leader, and rule by committee, but one of their member is elected to represent them on the Council of the King.
The Pharazarai: Least loved of all the Guilds, the Pharazarai (lit. Men-of-Gold) are not an official guild, but rather a collection of merchants, wealthy lords, tax collectors, and colonial governors dedicated to one purpose alone -- the enrichment of all it's members. Controlling much of Numenor's trade and wealth among themselves, most of the Pharazarai are counted among the King's Men, but care little for the King save beyond how he can further fill their coffers. The Pharazarai have glutted themselves on the colonies, stripping Middle-Earth of it's riches and deforesting mighty stretches of land. They have their fingers in every pot in the realm, from funding the expeditions of the Venturers and Shapers, to paying the wages of the Striders and Workers, yet are most hated of all for their greed. They are called sarcastically the Guild of Gold, for if the guilds are named after what they stand for, then the Pharazarai stand for nothing but coin. The King has of yet refused to grant them a guild charter or a spot on the Council, which rankles them deeply.

The Colonies

Numenor has established many colonies across the width and breadth of Middle-Earth. Many of these only have populations in the hundreds, but the largest are among the most powerful cities in the world. The colonies in the south tend towards the King's Men, and are more warlike, while the northern colonies are comprised mostly of Faithful who have fled to the continent to escape the growing political strife in Numenor. What follows is a list of some of the greater colonies of Numenor, and their political leanings:

Pelargir, the City of Ships: Founded as a city of the Faithful some 400 years ago, Pelargir is among the greatest ports in Middle-Earth, and is the central Numenorean city west of Mordor. The great harbors of Pelargir are home to many of the Venturers and Striders who explore the coasts and inland regions of Middle-Earth, and despite it's status as a city of Faithful, Pelargir is eminently valuable to the King's Men as a powerful location from which to attack Sauron and control the north of Middle-Earth.
Umbar, the Golden Fortress: The northernmost settlement of the King's Men, Umbar is located on the southern coast of the Bay of Belfalas, and is the mightiest fortress against Mordor in all the world. It is a powerful bastion, with high walls and many armaments, and it's harbor is packed thick with ships of war. Were it not for Numenor herself, Umbar might be the mightiest city in all the world. It is from Umbar that the King's Men lead their wars against Sauron, and have long attempted to drag the war with him southward, that they might rely less on the Faithful and Pelargir.
Adûnayar, the Jeweled City: Deep within the jungles of far Harad lies the southernmost of all Numenor's colonies, Adûnayar, known as the City of the Jewels for the immense wealth which has been found there. These spoils have made it among the fairest of the cities of the Númenóreans, and it sits like a golden star upon the coast of Harad. The mines of Adûnayar are the greatest in the empire of the Numenoreans, and fund the wars of the King's Men. It is from Adûnayar that the King's Men and the Pharazarai have launched their mighty conquests of Harad, sending great armies marching through the thick jungles and the sweltering deserts of the Haradwaith. The men of Adunayar are tanned dark by the sun and speak with the thick accent of the Haradrim peoples they have subjugated.
Lond Daer, the Great Haven: Known in older days as Vinyalonde, this once-great port was the first colony of Numenor, and was founded by Tar-Aldarion, the explorer-king who founded the Guild of Venturers. It was from here that the first settlers deforested much of the thickly wooded lands of Minhiriath and Eriador to build the great fleets of Numenor, and for a time Vinyalonde was the central city of the Guild of Venturers, from which they launched their many expeditions. As they stripped the land bare, however, their wealth dwindled, and when the eyes of the King's Men swung south, Lond Daer slid into a steady decline from which it has never recovered. Many of the Faithful who still speak with the Elves travel through Lond Daer to reach the elven realm of Lindon.
Sûzâyan: Called the Black March and the Prince's Gift, Sûzâyan is both the term for the great swath of land in southern Harad recently conquered by Tar-Calmacil's son Gimilzagar, and for the fortress-colony he has established to rule it. With four companies he has driven Sauron's servants into the deserts, seizing all the coasts of that land for himself and subduing many of the Haradrim tribes. This conquest has won the second-born prince much acclaim and honor on the Blessed Isle, where he rises ever higher in his father's favor.
Azhathani, the Outpost: Far to the southeast, beyond Harad, in the strange islands where Men wear brightly colored clothes and shave their heads bare and paint their faces as women do, the Guild of Venturers has established a Haven, little more than a cluster of ships around a port of mud and brick, named Azhathani. It takes months or even years to recieve news from this far outpost, Númenór's voice in the distant corners of Arda, and as such it is little affected by the political squabbles of the mother island. The Venturers here busy themselves with exploring and mapping the strange and distant continent known as Southernesse. There are periodically rumors from Azhathani of lands and seas even further to the east, and of warlike golden-skinned folk who sail upon the seas in boats of living metal, bearing the banner of the Eye.

The Realms of Middle-Earth

Numenor is mightiest among the powers of the world in the Second Age, but they are not alone among the realms of Middle-Earth. The Elves and the Dwarves survive and persist still, in their golden forests and their iron halls. Here are listed those who would claim to be peers of the Blessed Isle:

Lorinand: The Land of the elven King Amdir, and his son Amroth. Beneath these golden eaves are gathered many of the Sindarin Elves, learned in the ways of the wood, but also many of their cousins, the Noldorin Elves who survived the war with Sauron in the early Second Age, and so hold much of the knowledge and power of the dwindling Elven Race. The warriors of Lorinand, known as the Amdirim, are matchless in war.
Edhellond and Dor-en-Ernil: In the lands between the Anduin and the Gwathlo have settled a great host of Silvan Elves, the wood-elves of bough and birch, at mighty city called Edhellond, the Elf-Dwelling. They follow in the company of the Elf-Lord Celeborn and his wife Galadriel, two of the High Elves and among the mightiest elf-lords remaining in Middle-Earth. Their settlement on the shores of Belfalas coexists with a settlement of Numenorean Faithful named Dor-en-Ernil, elf-friends whom it said share land and love alike with the elves. The loyalty of the elf-friends is ever in question, and many on the Blessed Isle wonder whom they would serve should Numenor and the Elf-Realms ever come to strife -- the King, or the Lord and Lady?
The Woodland Realm: Beneath the eaves of the mighty northern forest of Greenwood dwells Oropher the Elvenking, and his people, the Sindarin elves. Reclusive, isolated, and powerful, the Elves of Greenwood dwell in relative peace in their sprawling northern forest, and deal little with Men or other Elves. Should the Sindar be roused to war, however, they will prove as mighty as any among the Firstborn.
The Kingdom of Lindon: Known as Ossiriand in Elder Days, the land now called Lindon once stood upon the eastern borders of the continent of Beleriand, which is now lost beneath the waves. Here, the last of the High Elves of Elder Days, the Noldor who once brought ruin and fire upon the world, are gathered under the rule of their High King, Gil-Galad. The High Elves are mighty still, and though the King's Men have often wondered if Lindon might fall before Numenor, all know in their hearts that such a war might leave Middle-Earth crippled and forever scarred.
Khazad-Dum, the Dwarrowdelf: Beneath the Misty Mountains in the heart of Middle-Earth, the Longbeard Dwarves have tunneled a vast and mighty kingdom under the stone. Richer and more beautiful still than even the spires of Armenlos in Numenor is the Dwarrowdelf of Durin's Folk, greatest of all the mansions of the dwarves, that few men living have ever seen. Beneath the earth in the halls of stone, the children of the mountain work gold and silver and steel fairer than silk. In these mountains is mined mithril, the starsteel, the strongest and fairest metal in all the world. The Shapers rely on dwarven mithril for their armor and their great projects, which has made Khazad-Dum wealthy among the realms of the world.
Rivendell, the Last Homely House: In the north of Minhiriath lies a mighty mansion fair and great in the wild, a place of learning and brotherhood unlike any in the world still. This is Rivendell, the Last Homely House, where dwells the Elf-Lord Elrond Halfelven and his people. For all how their hearts have soured against the elves, the King's Men still hold Elrond in a place of high respect, for his brother Elros was the first of Numenor's High Kings all those many centuries ago, and he is counted as a cousin of all Numenoreans.
Mordor: In the east of Middle-Earth lies the Dark Land, Mordor, ruled by a spirit of horror and terror out of elder days: Sauron, the Dark Lord, called also the Enemy and the Abhorred. In centuries gone by, he tricked the elves of Eregion into forging the Rings of Power, and created the One Ring to rule them all. His attempt to conquer Middle-Earth was beat back by the combined armies of Numenor and the Elves, and in the centuries since he has been under assault from Númenor and her colonies. Numenor is at constant war with his vast armies of orcs, trolls, and enslaved Men, led by his terrible and dreadful servants, the mysterious spirits called by Men the Nazgul, or the Nine. His dominion extends far to the south and the east, where vast continents of enslaved Men toil in his shadow, building mighty temples in his name. His armies are vast and mighty, and though Numenor has grown to become a match for him, the Dark Lord is yet a force to be reckoned with.

Telamon · Aug 19, 2019

Here are named and told the Nine, the Great Lieutenants of the Enemy who bear the Rings of Power.

The Nine

We deny our maker.
We cling to the darkness.
We grasp for ourselves power and glory.
Now we come, the Nine, Lords of Unending Life.

Of all the Enemy's servants across the world, most feared and hated of his lieutenants are those spirits known to the elves as the Ulairi, and called by men the Black Riders, the Ringwraiths, or simply the Nine -- the Nazgûl in the Black Speech of Mordor. Each of them was once a mighty and great lord of the race of Men, powerful in his day -- and each of them, in time, were corrupted by the power of the Dark Lord and seduced into the Shadow. They bear Nine of the Rings of Power, and are no longer mortal, but forever flesh-cursed, dead without death, alive without breath. They cry with voices of horror, and the very sight of them sets armies to shatter and breaks the hearts of men.

The False King: The first and the strongest of the Nazgûl is the one most hated among the Men of Numenor, for once long ago he was named among the finest Lords of the Blessed Isle, a Prince of the Star and a heir of Elros in a line unmingled. Mûrazôr he is called now, which means the Black-Fire, but in elder days he was Tanarmil, a younger son of Tar-Ciryatan, the twelfth king. Known in his time as the Black Prince, he was among the proudest and the greatest of all the lords the Blessed Isle ever produced, a warrior and sorcerer of skill unmatched, who led mighty wars against the Dark Lord in younger days. However, along with his brother Tar-Atanamir, he was the first of the Numenoreans to speak against the Elves and their grip on immortality. His pride and power made him fitting target for the manipulations of Sauron, and he was given by the Dark Lord one of the Rings of Power. The Ring made him great in skill and strength, and for a long time he was more loved in Numenor than even his brother the king. But his days did not end, and in time his flesh began to fade and his soul grew still, and a darkness overcame his heart. When he was five centuries old, he sailed to Mordor and walked through the black gates of Barad-Dur, seeking a way to overcome death. When he emerged again, he was mortal no longer, a sorcerer without equal among the living or the dead, a lord of terror unmatched by any save him whom he now served. He lays claim still to Numenor by birthright, and is called by his servants Ar-Mûrazôr the King. The Middle-Men call him the Witch-King and the First of the Nine, but the Numenoreans know him now and forever as the Black Prince and the False King.
The Black Easterling: Long centuries ago, in the distant east of the world beyond Mordor, in the sun-scorched land of Rhun, there arose a warlord among the nomadic tribe known as the Balchoth. His name was Khamul, and in a violent war of conquest, he led the Balchoth to unify all the easterling tribes of Rhun. His vast hordes thundered wild and unbroken across the plains of the east, and even the power of Mordor could not stand against him. But even the mightiest conquests must end -- all empires must fade, all hordes must disband, and even the mightiest conquerors are forgotten, in time. They would never forget his name, Sauron promised, for as long as men drew breath. And indeed, they have not, for now he rides for-ever deathless and immortal as the Second of the Nine, the Black Horseman, the Easterling.
The Betrayer: Aside from the Black Prince, four Numenorean Lords have ever turned to the Shadow. They are hated and reviled above all others of the Nine, and alongside their lord are known as the Kallabân, the Fallen. They are the chief foes of the Numenorean race, and entire armies have ridden to their deaths for but a chance to slay one of the Fallen. More hated even than the False King is the black rider called now the Betrayer, who but a few centuries ago was Ithiriel (lit. lady-crowned-with-moonlight), greatest of the war-captains of Numenor, known as the Maiden of Umbar. She was a hero and a warrior of the Faithful, among the best and brightest of the daughters of the Blessed Isle. She was strong of heart, and her seduction by the Enemy lasted centuries -- so it was all the worse when she fell. After bearing the ring for nearly two hundred years, she led a great army from Umbar into an ambush by the Dark Lord's forces, where she turned on her own men, slaughtering many. Ever after, during her service under Sauron, she was called the Betrayer, and when she rode again in later days as a spirit of terror, men knew her as Nâlanî, the Lady of Shadow, Third of the Nine.
The Southron: Aside from the Black Prince, four Numenorean Lords have ever turned to the Shadow. They are hated and reviled above all others of the Nine, and alongside their lord are known as the Kallabân, the Fallen. They are the chief foes of the Numenorean race, and entire armies have ridden to their deaths for but a chance to slay one of the Fallen. The spirit now known as the Southron has had his name struck from every record, but it is said he was once a Lord Shaper in the southern colonies who sought knowledge beyond any other, and in search of it turned to the Shadow. His ring made him wealthy and powerful beyond measure, respected as a Guildlord and a Sea-Lord, trusted in the intimate counsels of the King. For long centuries, he was considered to be the wisest man in the Blessed Isle. His betrayal came when he opened the gates of his city to the Dark Lord's forces. He is called by some Sârdulakhôr, the Southron, the Black Sorcerer who is Fourth among the Nine.
The Defiler of Hope: The Fifth of the Nine hails from the far land called Khand. Little is known of his origin by the men of Numenor, but legend holds that he was one of the Men of Khand who have so long served the Dark Lords. What tales exist say that he led a great rebellion against the Dark Lord in ages past. He overcame the man Imhraphor, one of the Kallabân, and took from his corpse his Ring of Power, which he hoped to use against the Dark Lord. It is said the power of the Ring allowed him to wage war against the Dark Lord for lifetimes, growing great and strong as a king among his people. But the Ring soured his heart even as it gave him long life, and he turned slowly but surely from a savior to a tyrant. In time, he bound his people in the same chains which he had once sought to free them from. In the East he is called Kaipharon, the Defiler of Hope, the Black Huntsman, Fifth of the Nine. They say he alone among the Nine knows regret.
The Serpent King: Far to the south in the jungled dunes of Harad arose a sorcerer fell and mighty, scion of the Serpent Kings who have ruled there for generations and served the Dark Lord. A bastard son of a second son, he would never sit the Red Throne of Haradwaith -- or so it was believed. He traveled to Mordor and bargained with Sauron, returning to Harad with one of the Nine Rings. He proceeded to murder all of his brothers and sisters, until he was the only prince of the Blood still living. Then he fed his father to sand-worms and seized the Red Throne, beginning a reign of terror unequaled in all the world -- and has been a loyal servant of the Dark Lord ever since. That was centuries ago. His kingdom is dust and his people memory, yet he lives still, a crowned spirit of hate and death until the end of days. He is Sula, called the Serpent King of Harad and Sixth of the Nine.
The Outlander: Called Agabêthân (lit.shadow-speaker) by the Men of Numenor, the Seventh of the Nine does not hail from any land that any among the Men of the West has ever seen. He was a king-of-kings in a distant realm far far to the east, or so it is told, an emperor great and proud who attempted to resist the power of Mordor. He failed, and is an emperor no more. His wails are louder than the wails of the other Nine, for his hatred is a thing of legend. Those who hear his screams find their hearts filled with rage, and turn swords on their fellow man. Called the Outlander and the Black Stranger, he is the Seventh of the Nine.
The Chieftain: Greatest in enmity of the Men of Numenor is the Eighth among the Nine, who was once a great chieftain of the northern men known as the Gwaithurim. When Numenor and her colonies came to the north, he alone of his people welcomed them with open arms -- to his own detriment. They cut down the woods in which his people lived for their mighty fleets, destroyed his home and left it bare. He united the clans of his land against them, but to no avail. When Sauron led his armies against Numenor and Eregion, he gave the northmen a chance to revenge themselves by granting him a Ring, an offer he accepted willingly in the hope of saving his people. Save them he did, but as the long years stretched on, he grew into a tyrant more bitter and cruel than any that had ever come over the sea. A century after he should have died, he bent the knee to Sauron, and rose again as one of the Nine. He has an especial hate for all Numenoreans, and takes great delight in torturing them. Called the Northling and the Chieftain, he is Eighth of the Nine.
The Oathbreaker: Aside from the Black Prince, four Numenorean Lords have ever turned to the Shadow. They are hated and reviled above all others of the Nine, and alongside their lord are known as the Kallabân, the Fallen. They are the chief foes of the Numenorean race, and entire armies have ridden to their deaths for but a chance to slay one of the Fallen. Called once Sakalakhôr, the last of the Nine was once a mighty lord of ships under Tar-Calmacil's great-grandfather, a famed general of Numenor who led her to many victories. He was one of the Shipwrights in the prime of his life, and knew the secrets of the sea. The Ring he was given gave him long life and great wisdom, and to his own credit, he resisted it for nearly three hundred years. In this time, he served three kings in his turn, swearing oaths of fealty to each of them, outliving them one after the other. But the Ring was slow and patient, and in time it overmastered him, and he bent the knee to the Dark Lord, betraying the deep secrets of the Shipwrights as he did so. For this he is despised among the Venturers and the King's Men as an arch-traitor, called the Black Captain and the Oathbreaker, last of the Nine Ringwraiths.

Êruhînim dubdam ugru-dalad

Telamon · Aug 21, 2019

[X] Plan Royal Forge For the Last Alliance
-[X] The Isen
-[X] The Guild of Shapers
-[X] Imrazôr
-[X] Male
-[X] The Shaper
-[X] Phazân, the Royal-Blooded
-[X] Sapthân, the Wise

Your name is Imrazôr, which in the tongue of the Men of the West means the great-fire, and you are a Shaper, one of the smith-lords who work the many miracles of the Blessed Isle. You were born to a noble family from Orrostar, in the east of Númenór. In you thunders the old blood -- your mother was a daughter of a Prince of the Star, one of the blessed line of Kings descended from Elros himself, the first High King of the Men of the West. You are too distant to hold any claim to that royal throne, but there is a strength in your line -- even as a youth, you were taller than the other children, and faster too, able to run many long miles without tiring. Númenóreans live long lives, but your mother lived longer still than most, and so shall you, the Healers say -- perhaps not as long as the Kings themselves, but your blood will snatch another fifty or so years from the Void.

You spent the first thirty years of your life beneath the gilded domes of the Houses of Learning in Armenelos, learning at the feet of the mightiest artificers and smiths in all the Blessed Isle. You are a swordsmith and an armorer and a jewelmaker, a ringmaster and an architect, studied in the centuries-old lore of the Zimrailai, the Men of Jewels. Your pursuit of knowledge did not stop there, however. You have spent long years studying the ways of the loremasters of old, the Wise who were learned when men were young. There is much lore on Númenór that survived the First Age of the Sun, and though many shun it as the work of elves, you have delved deep into the old ways. You have learned the songs the High Elves sung to hold back the Shadow in Elder Days, the words of power that were laid on hill and stone before ever men awoke. You know the Speech that shapes the world, and you are a wielder of the sacred Flame of Anor that was born across the Western Seas long ago. You are counted among the Wise.

Lesser men might call you a wizard, and there are some even on the Blessed Isle who name you sorcerer and elf-friend -- but what care you for they?

You enter your second century as a lord of wisdom with few peers among the men of the west, and a Shaper the equal of any on the Blessed Isle. If you remained on Númenór, in a decade's time you might have been raised as one of the Lord Shapers, and in half a century (certainly no more) you would have sat on the Council of the Sceptre as a Guildlord, the youngest in living memory by a century or more. Yet a lifetime of politicking in marble halls does not appeal to you, nor do centuries of bickering with other old men while your beard grows white. You wish to walk the wide world while there is still strength in your arms, to learn the secrets of Middle-earth which even the Númenóreans do not know. Wise they call you, and perhaps you are, for you see also the rifts growing among your people, the cracks spreading and widening. Númenór will soon no longer be a place for those learned in the ways of old.

That is why, to the surprise of many, you have convinced the Guild to sponsor you to found a colony in Middle-earth. It took some work, to be sure, but it was easier than you had expected. Many among the Lord Shapers were all too happy to see you gone across the sea, relieved to not have to defend their seats from you in a few decades. You will not be a Lord Shaper, no, but you will be a Sea-Lord of Númenór, a master of the coasts of the world. Better that, and freedom, than the 'power' to sit in an ancient hall muttering atop a mouldering seat until you withered away, like so many of these 'Lords'.

The Guild of Shapers has never sponsored a colony before, and while their wealth is vast indeed, the very act of announcing a colonization has badly angered the Guild of Venturers. Though required by law and tradition to aid you in scouting and selecting a colony, they have worked to hinder you in every way possible. Your ships are leaky and creaking, rotting things four centuries old. None of Númenór's ships have ever sank, but looking at these gives you doubt.

As the leader of the expedition, you have the right to select where your future colonists are primarily recruited from. Each of the various regions of Númenór was settled by different clans of the Edain, the Men of the West who became the Númenóreans, and each one has it's benefits and drawbacks, depending on what sort of colony you intend to found. Your ten ships can only hold so many men, so you will have to be selective.

[] Hyarnustar: The southwest region of Númenór, Hyarnustar was settled long ago by the men of the House of Hador, most warlike of the tribes of the Edain, and the soldiers of the Blessed Isle are still drawn primarily from here. The men of Hyarnustar are tall, well-muscled, and quick to anger and quicker to laugh, like their ancestors who were warriors when the world was young. They are fickle and proud, and do not take chastisement or mockery well -- and know little of humility. Colonists from here would prove able guardians of their own lands.
--[] Gather a few colonists from here. (1 Ship)
--[] Gather a sizeable amount of colonists from here. (2 Ships)
--[] Gather a large amount of colonists from here. (3 Ships)
--[] Gather a great amount of colonists from here. (5 ships)
[] Rómenna: Known as the City of the Shipwrights, Rómenna is the greatest port in Númenór, and perhaps the world. Though one might expect it to be dominated by the Venturers, it is so massive a port that every Guild has interests here. The mariners of Rómenna, and the nearby region of Orrostar from which they are drawn, are famed for their bravery, daring, and skill upon the sea, the finest mariners in a race of mariners. They are known to shorten week-long voyages to days, and are popularly said to have 'tamed' the waves. Colonists from here would no doubt continue this tradition of sea-mastery, yet it is often said that the mariners of the City of Shipwrights could not till a field to save their very lives.
--[] Gather a few colonists from here. (1 Ship)
--[] Gather a sizeable amount of colonists from here. (2 Ships)
--[] Gather a large amount of colonists from here. (3 Ships)
--[] Gather a great amount of colonists from here. (5 ships)
[] Forostar: The northernmost region of Númenór is populated by strong, hardy men fair of limb and strong of body, who have long worked in the mighty stone-quarries of Ondosto, the Grey City. These men are mighty miners and skilled workers of stone, which might make them able colonists by any measure, but they have a deep distrust of Shapers, who once worked them to their deaths in the stinking mines before the Guild of Workers was formed. That was centuries ago -- yet Númenóreans live long lives, and have longer memories.
--[] Gather a few colonists from here. (1 Ship)
--[] Gather a sizeable amount of colonists from here. (2 Ships)
--[] Gather a large amount of colonists from here. (3 Ships)
--[] Gather a great amount of colonists from here. (5 ships)
[] Andustar: Andustar is the westernmost region, home to the proud and mighty Lords of Andúnië, greatest among the Faithful. Here of old settled the Men of the House of Beor, wisest and slowest to rage of all the kindreds of the Edain. Andustar has long been a land of scholars and Shapers, fair of heart and brave of tongue. The warriors who hail from this land are not the strongest or the fastest, but their hearts are sure. Yet Andustar is ever and always a refuge of the Faithful, and here dwell in great numbers the last of the Elf-Friends of the Blessed Isle.
--[] Gather a few colonists from here. (1 Ship)
--[] Gather a sizeable amount of colonists from here. (2 Ships)
--[] Gather a large amount of colonists from here. (3 Ships)
--[] Gather a great amount of colonists from here. (5 ships)
[] Mittalmar: Great plains of fertile land lie in this central part of Númenór, and as such this land is populated by the most hardworking farmers on the Isle, men who know well how to tend the land and work the earth. They are capable warriors, as well, but Mittalmar's population is loyal to the King almost the bone. The great capital of Armenelos sits at the eastern end of Mittalmar, and growing up within sight of the golden towers has seemingly made all the men of this region into diehard partisans of the King.
--[] Gather a few colonists from here. (1 Ship)
--[] Gather a sizeable amount of colonists from here. (2 Ships)
--[] Gather a large amount of colonists from here. (3 Ships)
--[] Gather a great amount of colonists from here. (5 ships)
[] Hyarrostar: Last but far from least of all is the heavily-wooded southeastern region of Hyarrostar. It is here that the quiet and reclusive House of Haleth settled long ago. Nearly destroyed in their entirety during the First Age, their descendants have been slow to recover, and though they walk with Numenorean pride and Numenorean strength, they are still a quiet and reserved sort, shorter than most Numenoreans, slow to violence and capable of blending into the woods like no other. Master woodsmen and consummate adventurers, the Men of Hyarrostar are often chosen by the Guild of Striders and the Host of the King to serve as scouts and explorers, for they can move long miles unseen by beast or foe.
--[] Gather a few colonists from here. (1 Ship)
--[] Gather a sizeable amount of colonists from here. (2 Ships)
--[] Gather a large amount of colonists from here. (3 Ships)
--[] Gather a great amount of colonists from here. (5 ships)

Once the colonists are boarded, there is just enough room to bring a little extra with you -- and more besides. The wealth of the Shapers is vast, and they have pooled much of it into this venture, allowing you freedom of purse that most prospective Sea-Lords do not have. (Pick up to three, but remember that all debts must be paid)

[] The Shapers: You are already taking a few Shapers along with you, but you could ask for an entire detachment of 100. They would have to be returned in a few years, of course, but would prove a great boon to a newly-founded colony. The Guild would feel owed for such a large gift.
[] Númenórean Iron: The white stone dug in Orrostar is like none other in Middle-earth, and when worked with special enchantments and reinforced by the secret ways of the Shapers, it becomes a material to rival mithril. It is stone still, but reinforced thus, it is ten times harder than steel and blacker than samite. A structure built from it could stand ten thousand years and not show a single crack. The Lesser Men call it Númenórean Iron, and though it is no iron, the name has caught on among your people. This much of it is worth a small fortune, but the Guild has paid it happily -- with promise of future repayment.
[] Tongues of Fire: Great steel-coated cylinders wrought from Númenórean iron, these 'Tongues of Fire' are alchemical miracles created by the Shapers. When the proper materials (strange chemicals from Harad) are mixed and lit ablaze, and the proper words said, they will belch great gouts of flame that destroy anything in their path. Hard to aim and difficult to resupply (the materials are not cheap) the Tongues have largely been abandoned by the army, but are ideal for the defense of a city. The Lord Shapers frown when you ask, but agree grudgingly.
[] The Company of the Fourth Star: Mercenaries --though they prefer the name Striders-- are not uncommon in the colonies, and the Gimilkarasai, the Company of the Fourth Star, founded long ago by a fourth-born Prince of the Star (hence the name), is among the most well-known. Some two thousand footmen and five hundred horse strong, they have fought in Harad, in Minhiriath, and in further lands of which you have not even heard. They are skilled, and they are not cheap.
[] Ships: The guild goes out of it's way to finance four extra ships for your expedition, capable of carrying even more colonists. This is a serious expense, especially with the Venturers fighting them tooth-and-nail, and the Guild will want to see it repaid tenfold.
[] Shipwright: No Venturer-licensed Shipwright will sail with your expediton. Against all odds, however, the Guild manages to find a retired Shipwright, a bent old craftsman who must be paid multiple exorbitant sums to leave his mansion and his twenty-five great-great grandchildren to come join you. The Lord Shapers tell you in no uncertain terms that your children's children will still be paying off this debt in five centuries.

After the ships have been filled, there is just enough space for your own personal entourage. You are allowed, as is tradition, to handpick several people to accompany you on your expedition, should they wish it. A hundred years of life has made you many acquaintances and people who might even be called friends. You call on them now. (Pick Two)

[] The Captain: There are many great captains among the Venturers, but none half so experienced as Inzilbeth, called Inzilbeth Seastrider by the Middle Men. Born the daughter of a Faithful lord in a distant colony, she took to the sea from childhood, becoming one of the finest mariners upon the waves. Her mighty boat, the Pillar of Heaven, is one of the most loved in Númenor's navy, having many times won the day in grim battles on the southern seas. You sailed as her Sea-Shaper in younger days, keeping her boat afloat during daring maneuvers and sorcerous storms called down by the Dark Lord's servants. Her service long completed, she has spent her later years mapping the further shores of the world, each time returning with more grey in her hair. She has seen things men would not dare dream, she says. Seas redder than blood and mountains that spit fire, dragons that fly without wing, lands ruled by giants and men who ride massive spotted cats to war. Few men living could chain the Seastrider to land, yet you are one of them -- if you call, she will answer, with her famous vessel and her hardened crew.

[] The Last Lord of Eldalondë: In days long gone by, when Elves still came sailing across the Western Seas to Númenór, the Haven of Eldalondë was the fairest city on the Blessed Isle. It's shining gardens flowered with trees from the Undying Lands, and visitors standing on it's farthest shores could glimpse a glimpse of far-away Valinor. But the elves have not come in lifetimes, and Eldalondë, that was once so high and fair, has diminished with the passing of the years, now little more than a sad ruin on the western shore. The Lords of Eldalondë have diminished as well -- once, they sat on the Council of the Sceptre and were renowned among the Lords of Númenór, yet now those days are past. Hallatar of Eldalondë is the latest of these lords, a youth of forty-three who is no longer content to sit among the ruins of his land and wonder on better days. He is a skilled swordsman and a bold leader of Men, and he brings with him some three hundred men from shrunken Eldalondë. It is hard to tell who he hates more -- the kings who rejected him or the elves who never returned over the sea.

[] The Knight: Your personal friend, Belzathan is a tall lord whose acquaintance you made on hither shores in distant days. Ever a consummate warrior and a bold fighter, he fought by your side against mumakil and sea-drakes and worse things still, terrors out of the furthest east that need no naming in the tongues of the West. He has risen since then to the esteemed position of one of the Azgadûn, the fabled Knights of the Sceptre, guards of the Royal Palace in Armenelos itself. This alone serves to name him as one of the deadliest men alive. He is loath indeed to leave his position at the side of his King, but if you request it of him, he will not deny you -- he owes his life to you ten times over, and is a man of honor and faith.

[] The Twins: Arnuphazir and Calmacil are the twin sons of your friend Belzathan. The spitting image of their father in youth, they are as bold and brash as he was in younger days. Lads of but twenty, they are eager to see the wide world and test their blades against orcs and the enemies of the Blessed Isle. They bring with them a band of rowdy youths, disaffected lordlings and cast-off third sons all biting at the bit to see lands beyond the rolling sea. They are eager to see war in only a way those who have never seen it can be. It is said the younger brother, Calmacil, sees strange things in his dreams.

[] The Lady Shaper: Among your earliest and oldest acquaintances in the Houses of Learning was the Lady Ûrîphêl. Harsh, cold, and demanding, you have never called her a friend, but nearly six decades of working side-by-side (sometimes together, sometimes at odds), you would not quite call her an enemy either. Shrewder and more intelligent by half than most men in the Guild, she all but brute-forced her way to the position of Lord Shaper at the unprecedented age of ninety-three. Ten years later, it seems she is bored of it. When she heard of your expedition, she merely showed up at your estate in Armenelos unannounced and declared her intention to go. She brings with her her sizeable household of tight-lipped, cold-eyed soldiers, and a dozen or so apprentices.

[] The Man of Gold: Mere weeks before your expedition launches, you are visited by a tall man with golden hair and amber eyes, and a thin smile that never reaches his eyes. He is Minalzîr, a member of a group of merchants (called certain disparaging names by their enemies) with great interest in controlling the trade between the northern and southern colonies, which they would be perfectly placed to do in your new settlement on the Isen. He is prepared to offer you an immediate and vast lump sum of gold, for exclusive trading rights in your new colony for half a century, and logging rights to the lands around it. Minilzîr himself would accompany you as a sign of good faith and as a representative of his consortium. (Can pick one extra Purchase option without worrying about the debt, specify it below this vote)

On a dim summer day in the 18th year of the reign of Tar-Calmacil, who was called by the King's Men Ar-Belzagar the Conqueror, you and your fleet set forth from the eastern coast of the Blessed Isle to fling the shining lamp of Westernesse into the darkness of Middle-Earth. "The colonies and cities you shall found, the deeds you and your people shall do, will doubtless be the stuff of legend in later days" -- so goes the proclamation by the priest who sends you off, a doughty man with enough weight on him that you wonder how he climbs the Meneltarma to make his adorations every day.

You pass unmolested over the vast eastern sea, the Belegaer, and come after a week of good sailing to the mouth of that black river known in your tongue as the Angren, and called by the Middle-Men the Isen. Your first sight of the lands you will rule as Sea-Lord is from the deck of your leading ship, peering through the mist with sharp eyes. You see the mountains first, rising out of the sea-mist like towers in the night, towering white and cold above the world -- the Misty Mountains, beneath which dwelt the dwarves. Half a hundred miles distant, and yet they loomed clear as day.

As you approached, you saw indeed that the river under your ships seemed to run iron-black, for the dark stones at it's bottom. The Middle-Men believed it cursed, a place of power. But as you look at the trees crowding every bank, at the lush land, at the stars crowding above like a thousand silver eyes on the dark field of heaven, you know that it is perfect. Already in your mind's eye you see the city that will rise here on this river of iron, that will tower over the land under these bright stars and these misty mountains. You see the high walls and the shining towers, the arched domes and port thick with ships, voices Elvish and Dwarvish and Mannish ringing in it's streets.

Unbidden, it's name springs to your lips:

(This vote does not need to be in a plan, and will be tallied separately)

[] Angalasse, the Iron Shore (Elvish)
[] Navarang, the Iron Mouth (Elvish)
[] Angaros, the City of Iron (Adunaic)
[] Agakhibil, the Iron Spring (Adunaic)
[] Târ Dalad, The City Under The Mountains (Adunaic)
[] Târ Nîlon, the City Under The Stars (Adunaic)
[] Angaroth, the Place of Iron Foam (Adunaic)
[] The Isenmouth (Westron)
[] Minas Angren, The Tower Of Iron (Elvish)
[] Minas Giliath, The Tower of Stars (Elvish)
[] Minas Carnil, The Tower of the Red Star (Elvish)
[] Ost Angren, The Iron Fortress (Elvish)
[] Adunazhôr, the Flame of the West (Adunaic)

It begins.
It will end in sorrow, as all great things must.
QM ANNOUNCEMENT: No votes not in plan form will be accepted. There Is a twelve hour moratorium before voting can begin. No votes before this time will be accepted.

Reaction posts and Omakes are rewarded.

Telamon · Sep 27, 2019

[X] Plan Of Shapers, Ships and Shipping
-[X] Rómenna
--[X] Gather a large amount of colonists from here. (3 Ships)
-[X] Forostar
--[X] Gather a sizeable amount of colonists from here. (2 Ships)
-[X] Andustar
--[X] Gather a great amount of colonists from here. (5 ships)
-[X] Mittalmar
--[X] Gather a few colonists from here. (1 Ship)
-[X] Hyarrostar
--[X] Gather a large amount of colonists from here. (3 Ships)
-[X] Númenórean Iron
-[X] Ships
-[X] Shipwright
-[X] The Captain
-[X] The Lady Shaper

-[X] Târ Nîlon, the City Under The Stars

As you sail down the iron river, you gaze up at the stars above, white and gleaming in the dark blanket of heaven, a field of crystal-lit eyes gazing down upon the world. The stars here are clearer and fairer than you have ever seen, amid the lamps and torch-towers of Númenór. You know, in that moment, what your city will be named: Târ Nîlon, the City Under the Stars.

Your ships make land at the mouth of the Angren, that river which the Middle-Men call the Isen. The land here is fertile and fair, and thickly wooded -- the last such land remaining in the east of Middle-Earth. Middle-Men watch you from the trees, their dark eyes gleaming as they dart shadowlike between the treetrunks. The boldest few emerge from the treeline to peer at your vessels, but none approach any further. When any of your settlers approach, they flee, barking unintelligibly in their barbarous tongue. Your people soon learn to pay them little heed, for they do not bother the members of your expedition overmuch.

The first few weeks go exceedingly smoothly -- better, indeed, than you might have dared to dream. Your people and supplies are loaded off the ships, and you immediately set to work constructing the bones that will become your city. A Shaper, you have long decades of experience in craft and structure, and though your people are armed only with wood and axes, you have soon cleared out a great space along the River Isen where your city shall be founded. Of great assistance in these early days is the Lady Ûrîphêl. Though harsh and overbearing, under her whiplike tongue, adequate housing is constructed for most of your colonists within the month.

Perhaps the first true issue that faces you as Sea-Lord of Târ Nîlon and master of the Isen is the actual matter of settling. Some of your colonists, in particular the men hailing from Hyarrostar, wish to range out further and establish homesteads further from where the central city is springing up. The more astute of your councilors, steely-faced Shapers with flowing grey robes, point out that this will make the city harder to plan as it expands, and that it will be necessarily more difficult to offer protection to those outlying holdings, especially in this early stage of the colony.

[] An Open Hand: Let the colony grow as it will, and let men plant their stakes where they wish. The resulting sprawl will, of course, make the future colony more difficult to plan and harder to protect, but offer your colonists a greater degree of freedom, which all men, even Numenoreans, value dearly. But once given, freedom is not easily taken.
[] An Ordered Land: You let it be known that no man can settle where you have not given him leave to, and that land will be parceled out and strictly divided up according to your design. Settlements and homesteads will be closer to the city, and future city/colony planning will be easier -- yet your people will be held with a tight fist, and must be held so forever after.

Your second test comes a few months after landfall, when a disagreement over a newly-claimed plot of land erupts into a brawl between several colonists. The men involved hail from different regions, and more than a few voices say that their argument, in truth, stemmed from their beliefs about the King, and the Elves. It would seem the strife of Númenór has followed you across the Belegaer. Tensions buried over weeks and months working side-by-side to tame a new land erupt once more, and your burgeoning colony is consumed by dark looks and bitter words -- that is, until you enter the picture.

You stride among your new people tall and strong, the very picture of the Sea-Kings of old, whose blood thunders in your veins. Your words are calm, pointed, and above all, filled with the wisdom that long life brings to a certain few. You tell them that this colony, this new land, cannot hope to succeed if it's people do not work together, if they are not unified. Your words are as a wind that dispels the shadow hanging over their hearts, and in but a few days, men who glared daggers at one another days earlier are digging ditches side-by-side. The strife is not forgotten, this you know -- but it is quieted, for a time.

Meeting The Natives: 1d100+50 (The Tall Men) +15 (Royal-Blooded) -60 (The Sea-Tyrants) = 33, Needed 65+. Failure.

Strike The Earth: 1d100 + 30 (Shaper) + 40 (Lady Shaper) + 10 (Shaper Colony) =130, Needed 60+. Great Success.

Teething Troubles: 1d100 - 30 (Colonist Rivalries) +40 (Wise) +15 (Royal-blooded) + 10 (Initial successes) = 85, Needed 70+. Success.

Weeks and months of work slide together until the day comes, roughly five months after your first landing, when you decide that you have established something upon which you can build. Your people have settled in well to their new home. The thick forests of the Isen have been pushed back, and in their place is something which will someday tower over these lands. On a crisp autumn morning, you approach the Shapers and begin laying out in earnest the plans for the city you will build here, sketching blueprints and laying out diagrams.

What will Târ Nîlon be?

[] A Fortress: An iron rock on an iron river, Târ Nîlon will be impregnable to all outside forces, built to stand as a redoubt against the power of the Enemy from this day until the end of days. Like the mighty encampment in the Hornburg to the northeast, it will be built so that a force of a few thousand might hold it for lifetimes against a horde a hundred thousand strong. The military will naturally hold more power in such a city, vital to it's existence as they are, and it will surely attract the eye of the Dark Lord and his servants -- yet let them come. Yours will be a city of soldiers, of warriors and battlers and heroes, sworn to hold this city while there is life in their veins.
[] A Foundry: The weapons must be forged somewhere. Here, blade shall be bound to hilt, beryl shaped and hammer forged. The forges of Târ Nîlon shall ring day and night in defiance of the Eye, and the armies of the Men of the West shall bear blades forged in her fires to the black slopes of Mount Doom. Your people will toil day and night in the Misty Mountains cold, a race of miners and shapers and delvers and builders, matchless among the Secondborn. The Shapers will hold supreme power here, and if this colony grows according to this design, will pour wealth unimagined into it.
[] A Haven: The Númenóreans have ever and always been sea-lords, masters of wave and tide. You tamed the ocean, and are lords of the coasts of the world. Târ Nîlon will be built in this tradition, a mighty haven, a port without equal for a thousand leagues. Mighty ships shall crowd her harbor, a thousand bristling masts on high. From here you will rule as a sea-lord in word and deed, and yours will be a people of travelers and traders, of sailors and explorers. The Venturers will, of course, flock here as they flock to every port, but even they will need seek your favor if Târ Nîlon becomes the dominant port of the western continent, and must doubtless further vie with the vulture-like Men of Gold for influence over the port.
[] A Metropolis: Târ Nîlon will be a mighty city that straddles the River Isen, and will grow and spread as it needs, developing according to your wants and desires. It will not be specialized for any one purpose, but rather allowed to develop in accordance with it's circumstances. Your people will be as they have always been: warriors and travelers and masters of earth, lords of sea and land and sword. In all the do and say, they will be always Númenóreans, the High Men who have mastered the world and shall master it forever.

With that settled, all that is left is to decide who shall direct the building and organize the construction. Many have naturally settled on you yourself, Shaper that you were, but you are a busy man indeed, with many duties and tasks to see to. It has not escaped notice that a skilled (some might say the most skilled) Lady Shaper has arrived as part of your retinue, and though you are loath to admit it, her own skills might outmatch your own. Of course, you could always delegate this to the retinue of Shapers who has followed you, freeing yourself and Ûrîphêl to do other things in the coming year.

You choose...

[] Yourself. (Cannot take any other actions personally for the next two turns, or actions which require you)

[] Ûrîphêl. (Ûrîphêl cannot take any other actions personally for the next two turns)

[] Committee. (The Shapers will take this one. May result in increased Shaper influence)

No sooner is this matter settled than Inzilbeth approaches you. The greying captain has spent the first few months of the trip helping ferry resources and directing the establishment of the colony alongside yourself. A lifelong Venturer, she has seen many a colony founded in her day, and her wealth of experience has been invaluable. The colony has thus far relied on the military retinues of yourself and Uriphel to protect it from any threat, but repurposed household guards do not a military make. As the longest-serving and highest-ranking military officer present, Inzilbeth has taken it upon herself to knock together her old crew and any willing volunteers into a barebones military force. She can make these men into anything, she tells you almost boastfully -- so what do you want them to be?

[] Seastriders: Inzilbeth is a master of the sea and of naval combat, and so you ask her to create a force which will be primarily based upon the Isen. This first unit of yours will be a marine infantry force, manning small maneuverable boats as they sail along the great river. This mobility will allow them to reach the further parts of your dominion with ease, and to keep peace upon the black waters of the Angren and the Isenmouth, striking from the water and melting back into the river before the enemy has time to react. (Bonus to Offensive Warfare)
[] Rangers: You have need of quick men with quick feet, who can pass unseen where others cannot and bring early warning of the movements of the enemy. Lightly armored and armed with bows and shortswords, these men are more scouting force than military, but are well-trained to utilize their skills in actual battle, harassing the enemy and using their powerful Numenorean longbows, massive things that lesser men could not even draw, to strike them down from afar. (Bonus to Scouting/Exploration actions)
[] Guards: A growing colony will no doubt soon attract the attention of orcs, trolls, and worse things yet. Against such foes, even a Númenórean must be heavily armored and heavily armed. You direct Inzilbeth to form a battalion of men in shining plate, armed with mighty spears and longswords. With their limited mobility, they will likely form the core of what will become your city guard. (Bonus to City Defense)

Of all the treasures you brought over the sea from Númenór, perhaps the greatest are the mighty holds packed thick with Númenórean Iron, the famed spellwrought ore that could hold back a dragon's red ire. The mightiest building material in the Shaper's considerable arsenal, Númenórean Iron is often used to fortify buildings and reinforce structures, due to it's immense value. Those structures which are constructed fully from it are famed as the most steadfast in Middle-Earth, capable of standing ten centuries without sign of wear -- and you have enough to build just such an edifice, a construction that will be famed in later years as a marvel of elder days. The work will take years yet, but you can easily begin laying the groundwork.

[] The Tower of Iron: You order the construction of a massive tower in the center of the city, overlooking the rushing Isen. This impregnable redoubt would serve as the nerve center of your new colony, a final stronghold should worst come to worst, and stand as your city's most defining structure. A towering spire several stories tall, when complete it would be visible from leagues away, boasting the power and might of Númenór to all who set eyes upon it.
[] The Walls of The Isen: Númenórean Iron forms the greatest defenses in Middle-Earth. A mighty wall around the perimeter of the city would prove not just an impressive fortification, but also a nigh-insurmountable one. These massive walls would rise high over the city, repelling all save the most ferocious and determined attacks by land.
[] The Iron Port: You use the iron to set out and form a massive artificial port, a great ring formed to rebuke any assault by sea and effect control over the waves. Titanic chains of Númenórean Iron mean that even the fearsome sea-drakes harnessed by the Dark Lord and his servants could not easily assail this naval stronghold. A port of this scale and might would truly be the stuff of legend.
[] The City of Iron: It would not be possible, even if Orrostar was mined for a thousand lifetimes of the High Men, to build a city entirely of Númenórean Iron. However, with the skill and resources of the Shapers, you have devised that it would be possible for a small section of the city, a stretch perhaps a mile across, to be composed of just that. This Inner City would be a mark of prestige and wonder across the Númenórean world, crafted with all the splendor and art of which the Shapers are capable, indestructible by anything mortal.
[] Wait: You do not wish to use your stores of the invaluable Iron just yet. Perhaps there may be more opportunities to use it later -- or perhaps you wish to sell it, though any price you received would undoubtedly not be worth the full price of this much stone.

These are not all of the issues you face, simply the most pressing. There are many things which need seeing to in a new colony, and only so much time in the day. Some things must get left by the wayside. (Pick 3)

[] The Legend of the Seastrider: Inzilbeth is known among the Middle-Men as Inzilbeth Seastrider, and legends of her deeds are told from Haradwaith to Forochel. A century of legends have made her a figure of awe to your lesser cousins, and if any could approach them without scaring them, it might be she. (Requires Inzilbeth)
[] The Middle-Men: You send a delegation to the Middle-Men of this land, the Enedwaithrim, who dwell deep within their shrinking forest. You may lead this yourself, if you wish.
--[] Lead the expedition.
[] The Lands Of Iron: You send riders to explore and map the lands surrounding your new colony, following the River Angren toward the White Mountains.
[] The Misty Mountains Cold: You send riders northeast to explore the foothills of the Misty Mountains.
[] The First Haven: On the other side of the great forest of Enedwaith lies the now-barren land of Minhiriath, and the dwindling colony of Lond Daer, once the first colony of Numenor. Establishing relations with them could prove beneficial. You could send someone of importance, if you wish.
--[] Send Inzilbeth
--[] Send Ûrîphêl
--[] Go yourself.
[] The Wild Men Of The Woods: You send riders to explore towards the southern end of the White Mountains, where it is said dwell your cousins, the Druedain, the wild men of the woods who are twisted and unfair to look upon, with misshapen bodies and drooping faces. The Middle-Men call them the Pukel-Men, and fear them so deeply that they do not cross the Isen from fear of them.

QM ANNOUNCEMENT: No votes not in plan form will be accepted. There Is a twelve hour moratorium before voting can begin. No votes before this time will be accepted.

Reaction posts and Omakes are rewarded.

Telamon · Oct 15, 2020

[X] Plan Roaring Forge, Iron Sea
-[X] An Ordered Land: You let it be known that no man can settle where you have not given him leave to, and that land will be parceled out and strictly divided up according to your design. Settlements and homesteads will be closer to the city, and future city/colony planning will be easier -- yet your people will be held with a tight fist, and must be held so forever after.
-[X] A Foundry: The weapons must be forged somewhere. Here, blade shall be bound to hilt, beryl shaped and hammer forged. The forges of Târ Nîlon shall ring day and night in defiance of the Eye, and the armies of the Men of the West shall bear blades forged in her fires to the black slopes of Mount Doom. Your people will toil day and night in the Misty Mountains cold, a race of miners and shapers and delvers and builders, matchless among the Secondborn. The Shapers will hold supreme power here, and if this colony grows according to this design, will pour wealth unimagined into it.
-[X] The Iron Port: You use the iron to set out and form a massive artificial port, a great ring formed to rebuke any assault by sea and effect control over the waves. Titanic chains of Númenórean Iron mean that even the fearsome sea-drakes harnessed by the Dark Lord and his servants could not easily assail this naval stronghold. A port of this scale and might would truly be the stuff of legend.
-[X] Ûrîphêl. (Ûrîphêl cannot take any other actions personally for the next two turns)
-[X] Seastriders: Inzilbeth is a master of the sea and of naval combat, and so you ask her to create a force which will be primarily based upon the Isen. This first unit of yours will be a marine infantry force, manning small maneuverable boats as they sail along the great river. This mobility will allow them to reach the further parts of your dominion with ease, and to keep peace upon the black waters of the Angren and the Isenmouth, striking from the water and melting back into the river before the enemy has time to react. (Bonus to Offensive Warfare)
-[X] The Legend of the Seastrider: Inzilbeth is known among the Middle-Men as Inzilbeth Seastrider, and legends of her deeds are told from Haradwaith to Forochel. A century of legends have made her a figure of awe to your lesser cousins, and if any could approach them without scaring them, it might be she. (Requires Inzilbeth)
-[X] The Lands Of Iron: You send riders to explore and map the lands surrounding your new colony, following the River Angren toward the White Mountains.
--[X] Lead the expedition.
-[X] The Misty Mountains Cold: You send riders northeast to explore the foothills of the Misty Mountains.

The City-Under-The-Stars

At the mouth of the black river Angren, on the shores of the Belegaer, lies the Númenórean colony known as Târ Nîlon. Founded by Imrazôr the Shaper in the eighteenth year of the reign of Ar-Belzagar the Conqueror, it stands as Númenór's premier outpost in the middle lands of the continent, straddling the wide land between the great wilderness of Minhiriath and the eastern sprawl of Rhovanion. Though small and newly-founded, the city burns star-bright in the shadow of the Misty Mountains, a dim glimmer of the glory which is Númenór.

Population

The city's population is diverse, drawing from across the vast breadth of Númenór. The greatest bulk of the initial colonists hail from Andustar, in Númenór's west, bold Faithful stout of heart and strong of spirit who have settled along the spine of the Angren, near the running waters of the black river. Large numbers of Romennans, born seamen, have settled along the shores of the Angren, where they may gaze out across the sea. An enclave of Hyarrostari, the small and shrewd men of Númenór's south, have settled on the outskirts of the city, helping to tame the thick woods around the river. Scattered among these are a number of Forrostari, stout workers hard of body who have thrown their backs into the development of the city proper. A handful of Mittalmari round out the colony, hardworking King's Men whose experience tilling the soil has proven valuable in the colony's early days. All together, these number some one thousand, five hundred and nine.

The colony is new, and no conflicts have yet begun to emerge among the people.

Military

The 'army' of the colony is small, and consists currently of several dozen repurposed seamen and ex-soldiers who ply the river in small, swift boats. Aside from this marine infantry force, you estimate that roughly 200-300 people could be raised to the colony's defense in an emergency, though they are untrained and possess few weapons.

Your fleet consists of the fourteen ships which carried your people and supplies here, though they are not built for combat, and of Inzilbeth's pride and joy, the Pillar of Heaven. A fully crewed Númenórean warship with bristling masts and a gleaming hull, the Pillar is more than a fair match for any other ship upon the seas.

Guild Influence

The Guild of Shapers have the greatest influence over the city at the moment, providing most of your backing and resources. They have poured a great deal into this venture, and stand to lose much should it fail.

The Guild of Venturers has little direct influence over the colony currently, though the foundation of a colony by the Shapers has greatly angered them towards you, causing them to place an embargo on all Guild dealings with your colony, harming your trading potential greatly. Dealings with them will be sour until you make steps towards appeasement.

The Guild of Workers has no influence on the colony at the moment. Their power in the continent is weak, and your colony does not even have a large enough workforce to currently even merit a guild representative.

The Guild of Striders has no influence on the colony at the moment. There are mercenary companies and exploratory groups across the continent, and they trust you will have need of their services sooner rather than later. The Nardū̆ are patient.

The Pharazarim have no influence over the colony at the moment. There is no wealth to be found here just yet.

Heroes

Imrazôr, the Sea-Lord of Târ Nîlon: Yourself. A distant descendant of the royal line of the Kings, you are a studied Shaper and a skilled loremaster, an expert in many arts. You are counted among the Wise, a master of old songs and secret words, studied in the deep secrets of the world and the old songs of the elves. The colony is yours, and by this right you are not only a master Shaper, but a Sea-Lord of Númenór, a lord of cave and cove and shore.
Ûrîphêl, Lady Shaper: A brilliant, cold, and ambitious Lady Shaper, Ûrîphêl is one of the greatest students the Houses of Learning have ever produced, and the youngest Lord Shaper in the history of the Guild. Despite all this, she abandoned a prestigious career and a life of luxury in Armenelos to accompany you on this colonial venture, for reasons as yet unknown to you. She brings with her her household, her retinue, and her own unmatched mind. Inscrutable to say the least, she is an enigma even to those close to her.
Inzilbeth, the Seastrider: Inzilbeth, called the Seastrider, is the famed captain of the Pillar of Heaven, who for years served as a renowned warrior in the fleets of Númenór, and afterwards continued to serve the Blessed Isle as an explorer and a venturer. She has seen the furthest corners of the world, and has earned herself a legendary reputation among the mortal men of the continent, whose grandfathers' fathers have for generations passed down awestruck tales of the Pillar of Heaven and it's captain. One of the most accomplished mariners to ever grace the western seas, she has joined your decidedly land-bound venture out of obligation for your old friendship.

One bright summer morning, three expeditions set out from Târ Nîlon -- one west, one north, and one east. You personally accompany this last, setting out with a company of some twelve scouts down the great river Isen to explore and map the furthest reaches of your new colony. The black river winds wide and dark across the lonely lands of Enedwaith, through field and forest and fen, and you and your men take the opportunity to throughly map the area along the river as you travel. As you progress, you glimpse tell-tale signs of the settlements of the Middle-Men among the eaves of the forest, pillars of smoke on the horizon and dust in the north, but you do not approach them, nor they you -- not at all surprising, as they have taken great pains to avoid your colonists and scouts in the months since your coming to Middle-Earth.

Your scouts are slim, slender men and women with bronze skin and dark hair, who slide softly through forests like wind in the night. You were a mariner in your own youth, and can easily keep pace with them, but the elvish grace with which they dart through the woodlands still manages to evade you. Like most of your scouts, they are folk of Hyarrostar, whose ancestors of the House of Haleth walked the woods of the world when the race of Men was young. They guide you down unbeaten tracks and hidden ways, moving through this new land as if born to it, and your company makes good time indeed. The sun rises and falls only twice before you and your scouts arrive at the feet of the Ered Nimrais, the White Mountains that mark the eastern border of Enedwaith. Here, the Isen bends and rolls down towards it's source in the Misty Mountains to the north, forming a natural border with the vast plains of Calenhardon to the east. It is here that you pause and take stock of all you have seen in your journey before turning back to Târ Nîlon.

This land which spreads out before you, and of which you are now lord, is the great Middle Wilderness, the Enedwaith. It is a wide land, fertile and strong, with dark trees and dark earth split by a dark river. It is dark all over, yes, but it is the dark of iron and stone, the dark of the old that is strong. The very woods seem to thrum with a nameless energy older and deeper than any thing which men have put name to -- older perhaps than mankind itself, or Númenór the Blessed. More than once you imagine that you glimpse faces in the bark, gnarled visages of knotty wood that peer at you with too-old eyes, never judging and never threatening, merely watching. Then you blink, and they are gone. There is something heavy in the air of this land, something rich and strong and old as oak or yew. These woods have more to tell you, you are sure, if only you take the time to listen.

Perhaps you will return, and do just that.

At the foot of the White Mountains, your scouts report something decidedly strange -- dozens of squat fat stone statues of deformed humanoid figures litter the foothills of the White Mountains. Each one stands guard before a stone trail cut out of the very earth, all of which wind deeper into the mountains. The odd statues seem to serve as wardens or markers of a sort, keeping watch over the mysterious passages with their sightless stone eyes. Your men report unsettling feelings creeping over them as they gaze upon the brutal things, and a creeping certainty that they were being watched unseen.

Opportunity Unlocked:
The Iron Forest: Wild and old are the forests of Enedwaith. A dark power -- though not an evil one -- lies upon these woods. You know something of the tongues of beast and bough, and could, with enough time, discern whatever secrets dwell herein.

The Pukel-Paths: Ancient, winding paths have been cut into the White Mountains, guarded by twisted pagan statues in the shape of squat, monstrous men. You could send scouts within, to find the men who cut these paths and learn their purpose.

Of the three expeditions which set out, yours is the first to return. The second is Inzilbeth's party, which set out to make connections with the Middle-Men. The grizzled sea-captain reports that she ventured into the thick woods to the west of the colony, calling traditional greetings in the Mountain-speech of the Middle Men, which she learned on these very shores over a century ago. One can only imagine how stunned they must have been to hear one of the Tall Men speak to them in their own tongue. They emerged from the woods after that, she said, and upon learning her name brought her into their village with much excitement. The tale of Inzilbeth the Wave-Walker has been passed down for generations among the men of Middle-Earth, and the deeds she wrought on these shores in an age gone by have long since passed into myth among the Middle-Men. They may not trust you yet, but a living legend walks among them, and they will, she assures you, be more receptive to your words in future.

You may now send an envoy to the Middle-Men.

Your third and final company of scouts returns from their expedition to the north with strange news. They traveled to the slopes of the Misty Mountains, wherin dwell the dwarves of Khazad-Dum. What they found is not anything that you expected.

War has come to the Misty Mountains tall.

Massive earthworks and artifices litter the plains for great leagues, and the implacable mountains themselves are scratched with fire. Here and there, the land is riddled and rent with great pits and vast collapsed tunnels exposing the very bones of the earth: unmistakable signs of war, as the Dwarves wage it. It looks as if some great struggle has been fought under the earth, tearing up the land as it goes -- and yet there are no corpses to be seen, merely eerie echoes of battle. Last of all, your scouts catch sight of an army on the march through northern Enedwaith, dwarves girded for war and marching in battle formation. The armor they wear is black all over, and glints like obsidian in the sun. This is, perhaps, the strangest sight of all. The Dwarves do not march above the earth, but under it, and their wars are waged in stone. That they would march overland is a mystery.

Your scouts report that the strange army has made camp near the foothills of the Misty Mountains directly to the north of the colony. Should you wish to send an envoy to find their purpose, you could do so. Alternatively, one enterprising ranger suggests, you might send an envoy on the long path around the Misty Mountains, to either the western or eastern Doors of Durin, and seek audience with the masters of Khazad-Dum.

You may now send an envoy to the Dwarven Army.
You may now send an envoy to Durin's Folk.

With your lands settled and beginning to be divided, the city begins to take shape. As builders erect the bones of buildings and set the foundations for great squares, your Shapers begin to see to the delving of earth for stone and resources to build the great edifices which will mark your city. Temporary wooden homes are torn down and repurposed in the more permanent structures which just as quickly replace them. Mere weeks have passed and already the pre-eminent skill of the Shapers is beginning to show itself -- where once there was empty earth and forest, a true city in the Numenorean style has begun to blossom at the mouth of the Isen.

As your city takes shape, so too do it's affairs. The first hectic days after landing meant that you had to deal with each and every matter which came before you. Now, with a glimmer of civilization established, matters are brought to you timely and in an organized fashion, allowing you to divide and conquer as necessary. There is much to be done, but you do not shrink from it. Rather, for the first time in decades, a fire smolders in your chest, a blaze of passion that grows stronger still as you rise to the challenge. You are a Sea-Lord of Numenor, and you will tame these lands and their mysteries.

Pick Ten (10) options. You may personally assign yourself and Inzilbeth each to any votes you pick, making them personal options. As you have 2 heroes, you may make two votes personal options. Specify which character you want to send on which mission in the plan vote. Uriphel will be busy for 1 more turn, and cannot be assigned to an option.

Growth: The city begins to grow, and with it's growth come a host of issues and decisions for you to make. These may be put off until later, but absent input your people may do what they will.

[] A Source of Stone: The Númenoreans do not live as the lower Men do. Their homes are of carven stone shaped like clay, and their halls are marble white. You send your Shapers to identify potential quarries around the colony that could provide a source for such buildings.
[] The Mariners: You direct your Shapers to focus their efforts on the harbors and coastal regions, which will allow your mariners to begin making expeditions to the Blessed Isle and other colonies of Numenor. The seafaring Romennans will be gladdened by such attentions.
[] The Smithies: You direct your Shapers to begin focusing their efforts on the great smithies and forges which will serve as the engine of the cities' production. The sooner you can begin binding blade to hilt, the better for your colony and it's benefactors.
[] Expand the Farmsteads: The colony's farmsteads are a handful of fields on the outskirts of her sprawling expanse. The majority of it's sustenance arrives over the sea in the holds of Guild ships. You would see your people's ability to feed themselves expanded.
[] The Wide Woods: The woods that ring the mouth of the Isen have already been pushed back in order to accommodate your growing colony. Push them back further yet, and gain valuable wood for sale and land on which to settle.

Defense: You are not alone in Middle-Earth, and Numenor the Blessed has many enemies. The defense of your fledgling colony is one of your foremost priorities.

[] Establish A Militia: Begin selecting the fittest and hardiest men from among your people and training them to serve at a moment's notice should duty call.
[] Establish The Rangers: The men who volunteer for rangings and wanderings are already among the colony's fittest woodsmen. By formalizing their position you can creating an organization which will range, hunt, and hold the woods for your newborn colony. Taking inspiration from the famed woodsmen of the Edain, you name them the Rangers.
[] Prepare Walls: Your colony sits defenseless. See to the raising of stone walls which will protect what you have thus far built. You will need a source of stone for such a project.
[] Requisition Weapons: You have few weapons or armaments at the moment, but you could request a stock of such from the Shapers...putting you more in their favor.

Diplomacy: You are not alone in Middle-Earth. There are many realms and powers which dot the land, some more receptive than others. Making friends with even a few could ease many future worries in the days and years to come. Lacking a harbor and crews to man your ships, you must send all emissaries by horse and foot, limiting your immediate diplomatic options to those polities located relatively close to the City, in Eriador.

[] Send An Envoy To The Enedwaithrim: The Middle Men of this land are a reclusive, woodland folk. Inzilbeth's great reputation has opened the door for an expedition to parlay with them.
[] Send An Envoy To Tharbad: Tharbad, built at the ford of the River Gwathlo, is the nearest Numenorean settlement to your colony, some two dozen leagues to your north. A mighty fortress, it was erected to hold the line against the power of Sauron nearly a thousand years ago, and was the site of a great battle in the War of the Elves and Sauron, where the Dark Lords' armies were turned back from northern Middle-Earth. The garrison of two thousand at Tharbad is the single largest Numenorean military force in the north of Middle-Earth.
[] Send An Envoy To Lond Daer: Once the mighty harbor of Vinyalonde in days gone by, the port city now known as Lond Daer, sat on the mouth of the river Gwathlo, has declined since it's glory days. It's once-packed harbors are bare, and a dwindling population of mariners and woodsmen eke out a living among it's pillared halls. It is said the men of Lond Daer keep close contact with the elves.
[] Send An Envoy To Rivendell: Imladris, or Rivendell, is an elvish stronghold deep in the heartlands of Minhiriath. Founded and ruled by the Elf-Lord Elrond Halfelven, it serves as a bastion of wisdom and learning in these later days of the world, projecting Elvish might into all eastern Eriador. The elves of Rivendell are force to be reckoned with, and are great traders and loremasters besides. It would not be unwise to make their acquaintance.
[] Send An Envoy To the Dwarven Army: A great army of black-armored dwarves marches over a devastated battlefield in the north of Enedwaith. You send an envoy to treat with them and learn their purpose.
[] Send An Envoy To Durin's Folk: Around the vast bulk of the Misty Mountains, through eastern Rhovanion, and a short distance beyond the borders of the elvish realm of Lorien lies the great valley known as the Dimrill Dale, at the northern end of which stand the Great Gates of Khazad-Dum, Dwarrowdelf of the Dwarves. The dwarves have their own secret ways in and out of the mountains, but one needs must travel to the Gates in order to entreat with them. It is said there is a Door on the western side, in Eriador, which was once open to all friends of the Dwarves, but it is sealed by a passcode now long forgotten. (Takes two turns)
[] Send An Envoy To Lindon: Far to the north, beyond the Blue Mountains, lies the Elvish realm of Lindon, the mightiest realm between the mountains and the sea. Here rules undying Gil-Galad, the High King of whom the songs are sung and the greatest of all the elven-lords of Middle-Earth. Though their might has dwindled much since they warred with Sauron, the northern Elves are still great in strength and skill, a fading echo of the glory of Elder Days. (Takes two turns)

Opportunity: There are a variety of miscellaneous opportunities available to you which could benefit either yourself or the colony. You can also launch explorations of the surrounding lands and seas from here, but be careful -- Middle-Earth is not safe, nor is it tamed, and not all you send out may return.

[] Fulfill Guild Map Contracts: The Guild of Venturers has a permanent contract for any new maps of inland Middle-Earth, for which they pay lump sums to colonies and individuals who fulfill it. You currently have 1 map for sale, and could reach out to sell it, earning money and reputation with the Venturers.
[] The Iron Forest: Wild and old are the forests of Enedwaith. A dark power -- though not an evil one -- lies upon these woods. You know something of the tongues of beast and bough, and could, with enough time, discern whatever secrets dwell herein. (Requires Imrazor)
[]The Pukel-Paths: Ancient, winding paths have been cut into the White Mountains, guarded by twisted pagan statues in the shape of squat, monstrous men. You could send scouts within, to find the men who cut these paths and learn their purpose.
[] The Misty Mountains: The Misty Mountains which straddle the spine of Eriador are some of the tallest mountains in Middle-Earth. From the great outposts of the dwarves to the deep caves of the goblin-kings, there are many secrets to be found amid the snowy peaks. You send men into the high mountains to explore and map them.
[] The Land of the Ringmakers: Eregion, to your north, was once one of the great Elvish realms until it's destruction by the Dark Lord in the War of the Elves and Sauron long ago. Here dwelt the elf-smiths whom the Enemy tricked into creating the Rings of Power, and amid the ruins of their halls and cities lie ancient artifacts from the glory days of the Elves. You send explorers and riders into this land to map it. Mapping Eregion is the first step towards beginning to search it's ruins for the lore-treasures the Shapers hope lie within.
[] The Gwathlo: The Gwathlo, or the Angathurush, is the great river which marks the northern border of Enedwaith and Minhiriath. Traveling it's length and fording it is the first step to an exploration of Minhiriath. Minhiriath was once well-mapped, having been the first land settled by the Numenoreans, but nigh on a thousand years have passed since explorers combed every inch of this land. Who knows how it has changed since then? The Guild of Venturers might pay good coin for new maps.
[] Contact the Striders: Your scouts and repurposed mariners serve well enough, but opening a contract with one of the mercenary forces scattering Middle-Earth would both allow you access to professional explorers and a dedicated force of trained soldiers.
[] Appease the Venturers: Currently, no Guild-licensed traders or explorers are permitted to visit your growing colony, stifling trade and travel from the mainland. If you have enough money, reputation, or believe you can make a go of it, appeal to the Venturers. If you offer enough coin, or your colony has grown too large for them to feasibly strangle it in it's cradle, they may pay you heed and stop their embargo.

QM ANNOUNCEMENT: No votes not in plan form will be accepted. There Is a twelve hour moratorium before voting can begin. No votes before this time will be accepted.

Reaction posts and Omakes are rewarded.

ImperialBriton · Oct 16, 2020

Since you asked for Omakes, and no-ones done any yet... It aint my best, but I hope you like it.

Omake: 'Colonial oddities'

"Inzilbeth, what is this..."

The explorer loosed a soft grin before continuing to sup on her pipe, as the Sea Lord made his presence known. "Pipeweed is its name in 'Enedwaith', if thats what your asking." She let out a satisified sigh, puffing smoke through her nose, before returning her gaze to her lord. " you wouldn't believe how much I've missed this over the years Imrazor."

The Sea Lord sighed acting his age for once. "Should I even bother to ask what you were doing with our 'cousins'?"

"My duty, if that the question." She tapped some more kindling into her pipe. "And seeing how many faces I can recognise in the crowds; sometimes you find an old friends face, but younger and with the wrong coloured hair." She sighed again. "I can see why outside the Noldor, the Eldar seclude themselves from lesser men."

Sombre for a moment, she shifted her mood. "So what pray tell has happened since I was gone; another mission to the Enedwaith? An exploration of Eregion... A visit to Tharbad..."

"Your off to the Clans again old friend, I want to know their standing on us, a treaty, and if we're lucky perhaps hammer out a trade deal."
She chuckled. "And what? Trade them for pipeweed?"

"There may be a market for that back home... Its something you likely didn't mention in your reports, and a new 'unique' good from the 'savage lands'. That may just be enough to help keep the Venturer Guild off my back. Also..." He withdrew her report from a pouch. "These 'po'tay'toes', if your descriptions are accurate may fetch quite the price, both with the guild and the markets. Why grow them ourselves when we can easily trade trinkets for rare goods, and come out with them thinking they won the better deal."

"What about you then?" She grumbled, scratching down some plans for the negotiations. "I see you've started digging the foundations for walls, found any stone yet?"

He nodded. "Searches for stone are commencing, hopefully the wall should begin construction within weeks of a good find. There's been calls for a voluntary militia to form, alongside a ranger company. No doubt both will see a filling out before the middle of the year. I've got some of your followers leading envoys to those Kazad forces, and to treat with Tharbad; while I attempt to treat with whatever denizen lurks in these woods...

She glared at him. "You best be careful there lad. I don't want to comeback to a ruin in the case you earned the ire of some Maia, or Ent."

Imrazor blinked. "Maia in these woods..."

She nodded. "Just a recommendation, while I've never met them, if you meet a short jolly man, and/or his fair wife with golden hair... do not, by any means threaten, harass or irritate them."

--------------
[x] Getting Started

Telamon · Jan 15, 2021

Scheduled vote count started by Telamon on Oct 15, 2020 at 3:19 AM, finished with 52 posts and 26 votes.

22 people have voted
[X] Getting Started
- VagrantHero
- swift1212
- Thule
- Shador
- UwU
- DearestAnnabel
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- Keeper of Dreams
- Pyre
- Smartphone
- Zale
- Captain Hunt
- Radek
- ImperialBriton
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- Erzherzog_Karl
- Havalt300
- Thanatosra
- Speed53066
- Just Some Guy
- Taut_Templar
- Arimai
1 people have voted
[X] Plan: Laying the First Stone
-[X] A Source of Stone: The Númenoreans do not live as the lower Men do. Their homes are of carven stone shaped like clay, and their halls are marble white. You send your Shapers to identify potential quarries around the colony that could provide a source for such buildings.
-[X] The Smithies: You direct your Shapers to begin focusing their efforts on the great smithies and forges which will serve as the engine of the cities' production. The sooner you can begin binding blade to hilt, the better for your colony and it's benefactors.
-[X] Expand the Farmsteads: The colony's farmsteads are a handful of fields on the outskirts of her sprawling expanse. The majority of it's sustenance arrives over the sea in the holds of Guild ships. You would see your people's ability to feed themselves expanded.
-[X] Establish The Rangers: The men who volunteer for rangings and wanderings are already among the colony's fittest woodsmen. By formalizing their position you can creating an organization which will range, hunt, and hold the woods for your newborn colony. Taking inspiration from the famed woodsmen of the Edain, you name them the Rangers.
-[X] Prepare Walls: Your colony sits defenseless. See to the raising of stone walls which will protect what you have thus far built. You will need a source of stone for such a project.
-[X] Send An Envoy To The Enedwaithrim: The Middle Men of this land are a reclusive, woodland folk. Inzilbeth's great reputation has opened the door for an expedition to parlay with them.
-[X] Send An Envoy To Tharbad: Tharbad, built at the ford of the River Gwathlo, is the nearest Numenorean settlement to your colony, some two dozen leagues to your north. A mighty fortress, it was erected to hold the line against the power of Sauron nearly a thousand years ago, and was the site of a great battle in the War of the Elves and Sauron, where the Dark Lords' armies were turned back from northern Middle-Earth. The garrison of two thousand at Tharbad is the single largest Numenorean military force in the north of Middle-Earth.
-[X] Send An Envoy To the Dwarven Army: A great army of black-armored dwarves marches over a devastated battlefield in the north of Enedwaith. You send an envoy to treat with them and learn their purpose.
-[X] Send An Envoy To Lond Daer: Once the mighty harbor of Vinyalonde in days gone by, the port city now known as Lond Daer, sat on the mouth of the river Gwathlo, has declined since it's glory days. It's once-packed harbors are bare, and a dwindling population of mariners and woodsmen eke out a living among it's pillared halls. It is said the men of Lond Daer keep close contact with the elves.
-[X] The Iron Forest: Wild and old are the forests of Enedwaith. A dark power -- though not an evil one -- lies upon these woods. You know something of the tongues of beast and bough, and could, with enough time, discern whatever secrets dwell herein. (Requires Imrazor)
- Fission Battery
1 people have voted
[X] Plan Tar Nilon's First Steps
- phil03
1 people have voted
[X] Getting Started
-[X] A Source of Stone
-[X] The Smithies: You direct your Shapers to begin focusing their efforts on the great smithies and forges which will serve as the engine of the cities' production. The sooner you can begin binding blade to hilt, the better for your colony and it's benefactors.
-[X] Expand the Farmsteads: The colony's farmsteads are a handful of fields on the outskirts of her sprawling expanse. The majority of it's sustenance arrives over the sea in the holds of Guild ships. You would see your people's ability to feed themselves expanded.
-[X] Establish A Militia: Begin selecting the fittest and hardiest men from among your people and training them to serve at a moment's notice should duty call.
-[X] Establish The Rangers: The men who volunteer for rangings and wanderings are already among the colony's fittest woodsmen. By formalizing their position you can creating an organization which will range, hunt, and hold the woods for your newborn colony. Taking inspiration from the famed woodsmen of the Edain, you name them the Rangers.
-[X] Prepare Walls: Your colony sits defenseless. See to the raising of stone walls which will protect what you have thus far built. You will need a source of stone for such a project.
-[X] Send An Envoy To The Enedwaithrim: The Middle Men of this land are a reclusive, woodland folk. Inzilbeth's great reputation has opened the door for an expedition to parlay with them.
--[X] Inzilbeth
-[X] Send An Envoy To Tharbad: Tharbad, built at the ford of the River Gwathlo, is the nearest Numenorean settlement to your colony, some two dozen leagues to your north. A mighty fortress, it was erected to hold the line against the power of Sauron nearly a thousand years ago, and was the site of a great battle in the War of the Elves and Sauron, where the Dark Lords' armies were turned back from northern Middle-Earth. The garrison of two thousand at Tharbad is the single largest Numenorean military force in the north of Middle-Earth.
-[X] Send An Envoy To the Dwarven Army: A great army of black-armored dwarves marches over a devastated battlefield in the north of Enedwaith. You send an envoy to treat with them and learn their purpose.
-[X] The Iron Forest: Wild and old are the forests of Enedwaith. A dark power -- though not an evil one -- lies upon these woods. You know something of the tongues of beast and bough, and could, with enough time, discern whatever secrets dwell herein. (Requires Imrazor)
--[X] Imrazor
- Strange9
1 people have voted
[X] Getting Started, with elves
-[X] A Source of Stone
-[X] The Smithies: You direct your Shapers to begin focusing their efforts on the great smithies and forges which will serve as the engine of the cities' production. The sooner you can begin binding blade to hilt, the better for your colony and it's benefactors.
-[X] Expand the Farmsteads: The colony's farmsteads are a handful of fields on the outskirts of her sprawling expanse. The majority of it's sustenance arrives over the sea in the holds of Guild ships. You would see your people's ability to feed themselves expanded.
-[X] Establish A Militia: Begin selecting the fittest and hardiest men from among your people and training them to serve at a moment's notice should duty call.
-[X] Establish The Rangers: The men who volunteer for rangings and wanderings are already among the colony's fittest woodsmen. By formalizing their position you can creating an organization which will range, hunt, and hold the woods for your newborn colony. Taking inspiration from the famed woodsmen of the Edain, you name them the Rangers.
-[X] Prepare Walls: Your colony sits defenseless. See to the raising of stone walls which will protect what you have thus far built. You will need a source of stone for such a project.
-[X] Send An Envoy To The Enedwaithrim: The Middle Men of this land are a reclusive, woodland folk. Inzilbeth's great reputation has opened the door for an expedition to parlay with them.
--[X] Inzilbeth
-[X] Send An Envoy To Tharbad: Tharbad, built at the ford of the River Gwathlo, is the nearest Numenorean settlement to your colony, some two dozen leagues to your north. A mighty fortress, it was erected to hold the line against the power of Sauron nearly a thousand years ago, and was the site of a great battle in the War of the Elves and Sauron, where the Dark Lords' armies were turned back from northern Middle-Earth. The garrison of two thousand at Tharbad is the single largest Numenorean military force in the north of Middle-Earth.
-[X] Send An Envoy To Rivendell: Imladris, or Rivendell, is an elvish stronghold deep in the heartlands of Minhiriath. Founded and ruled by the Elf-Lord Elrond Halfelven, it serves as a bastion of wisdom and learning in these later days of the world, projecting Elvish might into all eastern Eriador. The elves of Rivendell are force to be reckoned with, and are great traders and loremasters besides. It would not be unwise to make their acquaintance.
-[X] The Iron Forest: Wild and old are the forests of Enedwaith. A dark power -- though not an evil one -- lies upon these woods. You know something of the tongues of beast and bough, and could, with enough time, discern whatever secrets dwell herein. (Requires Imrazor)
--[X] Imrazor
- Nemomagnus

Telamon · Jan 15, 2021

[X] Getting Started

-[X] A Source of Stone
-[X] The Smithies: You direct your Shapers to begin focusing their efforts on the great smithies and forges which will serve as the engine of the cities' production. The sooner you can begin binding blade to hilt, the better for your colony and it's benefactors.
-[X] Expand the Farmsteads: The colony's farmsteads are a handful of fields on the outskirts of her sprawling expanse. The majority of it's sustenance arrives over the sea in the holds of Guild ships. You would see your people's ability to feed themselves expanded.
-[X] Establish A Militia: Begin selecting the fittest and hardiest men from among your people and training them to serve at a moment's notice should duty call.
-[X] Establish The Rangers: The men who volunteer for rangings and wanderings are already among the colony's fittest woodsmen. By formalizing their position you can creating an organization which will range, hunt, and hold the woods for your newborn colony. Taking inspiration from the famed woodsmen of the Edain, you name them the Rangers.
-[X] Prepare Walls: Your colony sits defenseless. See to the raising of stone walls which will protect what you have thus far built. You will need a source of stone for such a project.
-[X] Send An Envoy To The Enedwaithrim: The Middle Men of this land are a reclusive, woodland folk. Inzilbeth's great reputation has opened the door for an expedition to parlay with them.
--[X] Inzilbeth
-[X] Send An Envoy To Tharbad: Tharbad, built at the ford of the River Gwathlo, is the nearest Numenorean settlement to your colony, some two dozen leagues to your north. A mighty fortress, it was erected to hold the line against the power of Sauron nearly a thousand years ago, and was the site of a great battle in the War of the Elves and Sauron, where the Dark Lords' armies were turned back from northern Middle-Earth. The garrison of two thousand at Tharbad is the single largest Numenorean military force in the north of Middle-Earth.
-[X] Send An Envoy To the Dwarven Army: A great army of black-armored dwarves marches over a devastated battlefield in the north of Enedwaith. You send an envoy to treat with them and learn their purpose.
-[X] The Iron Forest: Wild and old are the forests of Enedwaith. A dark power -- though not an evil one -- lies upon these woods. You know something of the tongues of beast and bough, and could, with enough time, discern whatever secrets dwell herein. (Requires Imrazor)
--[X] Imrazor

The City-Under-The-Stars

At the mouth of the black river Angren, on the shores of the Belegaer, lies the Númenórean colony known as Târ Nîlon. Founded by Imrazôr the Shaper in the eighteenth year of the reign of Ar-Belzagar the Conqueror, it stands as Númenór's premier outpost in the middle lands of the continent, straddling the wide land between the great wilderness of Minhiriath and the eastern sprawl of Rhovanion. Though small and newly-founded, the city burns star-bright in the shadow of the Misty Mountains, a dim glimmer of the glory which is Númenór.

Population

The city's population is diverse, drawing from across the vast breadth of Númenór. The greatest bulk of the initial colonists hail from Andustar, in Númenór's west, bold Faithful stout of heart and strong of spirit who have settled along the spine of the Angren, near the running waters of the black river. Large numbers of Romennans, born seamen, have settled along the shores of the Angren, where they may gaze out across the sea. An enclave of Hyarrostari, the small and shrewd men of Númenór's south, have settled on the outskirts of the city, helping to tame the thick woods around the river. Scattered among these are a number of Forrostari, stout workers hard of body who have thrown their backs into the development of the city proper. A handful of Mittalmari round out the colony, hardworking King's Men whose experience tilling the soil has proven valuable in the colony's early days. All together, these number some one thousand, five hundred and nine.

The colony is new, and no conflicts have yet begun to emerge among the people.

Military

The 'army' of the colony is small, but growing daily, and consists currently of several dozen repurposed seamen and ex-soldiers who ply the river in small, swift boats. Aside from this marine infantry force, you estimate that some seven-hundred people could be raised to the colony's defense in an emergency, roughly organized and semi-trained. There exists also a small scout force of Rangers, lightly armored scouts equipped with bows who number some thirty-odd men and women.

Your fleet consists of the fourteen ships which carried your people and supplies here, though they are not built for combat, and of Inzilbeth's pride and joy, the Pillar of Heaven. A fully crewed Númenórean warship with bristling masts and a gleaming hull, the Pillar is more than a fair match for any other ship upon the seas.

Guild Influence

The Guild of Shapers have the greatest influence over the city at the moment, providing most of your backing and resources. They have poured a great deal into this venture, and stand to lose much should it fail.

The Guild of Venturers has little direct influence over the colony currently, though the foundation of a colony by the Shapers has greatly angered them towards you, causing them to place an embargo on all Guild dealings with your colony, harming your trading potential greatly. Dealings with them will be sour until you make steps towards appeasement.

The Guild of Workers has no influence on the colony at the moment. Their power in the continent is weak, and your colony does not even have a large enough workforce to currently even merit a guild representative.

The Guild of Striders has no influence on the colony at the moment. There are mercenary companies and exploratory groups across the continent, and they trust you will have need of their services sooner rather than later. The Nardū̆ are patient.

The Pharazarim have no influence over the colony at the moment. There is no wealth to be found here just yet.

Heroes

Imrazôr, the Sea-Lord of Târ Nîlon: Yourself. A distant descendant of the royal line of the Kings, you are a studied Shaper and a skilled loremaster, an expert in many arts. You are counted among the Wise, a master of old songs and secret words, studied in the deep secrets of the world and the old songs of the elves. The colony is yours, and by this right you are not only a master Shaper, but a Sea-Lord of Númenór, a lord of cave and cove and shore.
Ûrîphêl, Lady Shaper: A brilliant, cold, and ambitious Lady Shaper, Ûrîphêl is one of the greatest students the Houses of Learning have ever produced, and the youngest Lord Shaper in the history of the Guild. Despite all this, she abandoned a prestigious career and a life of luxury in Armenelos to accompany you on this colonial venture, for reasons as yet unknown to you. She brings with her her household, her retinue, and her own unmatched mind. Inscrutable to say the least, she is an enigma even to those close to her.
Inzilbeth, the Seastrider: Inzilbeth, called the Seastrider, is the famed captain of the Pillar of Heaven, who for years served as a renowned warrior in the fleets of Númenór, and afterwards continued to serve the Blessed Isle as an explorer and a venturer. She has seen the furthest corners of the world, and has earned herself a legendary reputation among the mortal men of the continent, whose grandfathers' fathers have for generations passed down awestruck tales of the Pillar of Heaven and it's captain. One of the most accomplished mariners to ever grace the western seas, she has joined your decidedly land-bound venture out of obligation for your old friendship.

The Realms of Middle-Earth

Numenor is mightiest among the powers of the world in the Second Age, but they are not alone among the realms of Middle-Earth. The Elves and the Dwarves survive and persist still, in their golden forests and their iron halls. Here are listed those who would claim to be peers of the Blessed Isle:

Lorinand: The Land of the elven King Amdir, and his son Amroth. Beneath these golden eaves are gathered many of the Sindarin Elves, but also many of their cousins, the Noldorin Elves who survived the war with Sauron in the early Second Age, and so hold much of the knowledge and power of the dwindling Elven Race. The warriors of Lorinand, known as the Amdirim, are matchless in war.
Edhellond and Dor-en-Ernil: In the lands between the Anduin and the Gwathlo have settled a great host of Silvan Elves, the wood-elves of bough and birch, at mighty city called Edhellond, the Elf-Dwelling, ruled by the Lady Galadriel and the Lord Celeborn. Their settlement on the shores of Belfalas coexists with a settlement of Numenoreans called Dor-en-Ernil, elf-friends who share land and love alike with the elves.
The Woodland Realm: Beneath the eaves of the mighty northern forest of Greenwood dwells Oropher the Elvenking, and his people, the Sindarin elves. Reclusive, isolated, and powerful, the Sindarin Elves dwell in relative peace in their sprawling northern forest, and deal little with Men or other Elves.
The Kingdom of Lindon: Known as Ossiriand in Elder Days, the land now called Lindon once stood upon the eastern borders of the continent of Beleriand, which is now lost beneath the waves. Here, the last of the High Elves of Elder Days, the Noldor who once brought ruin and fire upon the world, are gathered under the rule of their High King, Gil-Galad.
Khazad-Dum, the Dwarrowdelf: Beneath the Misty Mountains in the heart of Middle-Earth, the Longbeard Dwarves have tunneled a vast and mighty kingdom under the stone. Richer and more beautiful still than even the spires of Armenlos in Numenor is the Dwarrowdelf of Durin's Folk, greatest of all the mansions of the dwarves, that few men living have ever seen.
Rivendell, the Last Homely House: In the north of Minhiriath lies a mighty mansion fair and great in the wild, a place of learning and brotherhood unlike any in the world still. This is Rivendell, the Last Homely House, where dwells the Elf-Lord Elrond Halfelven and his people.
Mordor: In the east of Middle-Earth lies the Dark Land, Mordor, ruled by a spirit of horror and terror out of elder days: Sauron, the Dark Lord, called also the Enemy. In centuries gone by, he tricked the elves of Eregion into forging the Rings of Power, and created the One Ring to rule them all. Numenor is at constant war with his vast armies of orcs, trolls, and enslaved Men, led by his terrible and dreadful servants, the mysterious spirits called by Men the Nazgul, or the Nine. His armies are vast and mighty, and though Numenor has grown to become a match for him, the Dark Lord is yet a force to be reckoned with.

You enter the forest at mid-morning, with the sun shining down between the leaves, following a certain winding trail you learned of from a helpful bluejay. The trees are clustered thickly together in that way which only old forests are, forests which have never known the axe or the fire, and thus grew wild without fear. Ancient elms and beeches twist and wind around one another, thick roots winding in and out like serpents across the forest floor. Titan oaks loom out of the shadows, the largest the size of three grown men across, their clawed branches scraping at your head as you pass. The forest is still, silent almost as a tomb save for the crunching of your feet on the undergrowth. The air is thick and musty, heavy with the scent of growing things that have grown too old. You walk until the sun is no longer visible through the thickness of the tree-tops, and then you continue to walk still, pushing through thick boughs and dark branches even as the forest slides shut behind you. You continue until the darkness and the silence becomes interminable, until they press down so heavy and hard on your skull that the forest itself seems to breathe.

And then, all of a sudden, you realize that it is breathing.

Hoom.

The sound ruffles the leaves as it passes through the air, whispering over your skin like dry leaves. You are not sure how long you have been hearing it, but now that you are aware, it is quite unmistakable. It is a sound like branches ruffling and bark snapping, like roots splintering and green things growing old and unseen in the dark. It rumbles and shakes and you feel it in your chest.

Hoom.

The sound grows closer, followed by an echo of dry wood heaving and cracking.

Hoom.

You turn searching for the source of the sound, or for the trail you were following, but all around you there is only darkness, and trees as thick and tight together as nets.

Hoom.

And then he is there. A tree bends it's branches and unfolds it's legs and rolls massive shoulders like oaken logs and you realize too late that it is not a tree at all. Trees do not have legs like yew trunks or arms as thick around as cypresses or a chest as thick and vast as any oak in the forest, a chest which rises slowly and languidly with a cracking creaking sound that shakes the air in your skull.

Hoom.

He is at least twice your size, tall enough that the horned branches of his head scrape the bottom leaves of the forest canopy some fifteen feet above, and each of his mighty footsteps sends tremors through the forest floor. His skin is old grey bark the color of metal, which snaps and shivers as he moves. Two bright points of light shine out from sockets in the aboreal skull, gleaming like torches. Beneath it all hangs a tangled beard of moss and heather that scrapes the ground. His breathing is like a thunderclap now, each breath battering at your eardrums and vibrating your bones.

Hoom.

There is a deep rolling sound from inside the mighty chest. After a handful of seconds, you realize it is a word.

"EDAIN."

The word is followed by a rustling of leaves and snapping of bark as the Ent -- for the tree-man could be nothing else -- looms down closer to you. You had heard the Ents to be tree-men, but there is more tree than man in that dark face, and those gleaming eyes seem clouded and distant. You know well that many of the Onodrim who remain in the forests of Arda are half-wild, raging things, less tree-herders and moreso particularly old and angry trees. Indeed, the lumbering tree-giant's voice is creaky and stilted, as if he has not used it in many years, and when he finally speaks again, it spills out as one long furious rush of air and crackling wood that takes you a moment to decipher.

"MANOFTHEWEST. TREEBURNEREARTHBREAKERLIMBHEWERSTONECUTTER. BACKTOTHESEABACKBACKBACKBACK-HOOM-GOGOGOGOGO."

You raise your hand in an ancient greeting of nature, taught to your ancestors by the elves long ago. "Hail, Onodrim. I mean no harm, and come as a friend and a neighbor."

"FRIEND?" The Onod stirs at that, bristling and rising to his full thorny height. His voice is slower and more deliberate when he speaks again, as if, with effort, he is remembering how.

"I SMELLYOURSINS ON THE SEA! THEY SCREAM STILL! YOU HAVE MADE BOARDSOFTHEIR BONES AND TIMBERSOFTHEIRROOTS, BUT I SMELL THEM, SHIP-MAKER!"

"Our ships are old, Master Onod, and were not cut from your herds. We have no need of more."

"NEED? HOOM, THE TALL MEN ALWAYS HAVE NEED. NEED? FROM NORTH TO SOUTH TO FARTHEST EAST YOU HAVE BURNT AND CHOPPED AND HACKED AND HEWED! NEED? NEED? YOU SPEAK OF NEED?!"

An unfortunate choice of words, it seems.

The forest cracks around you, vines rippling and tugging from the earth, whipping snakelike into the air. The undergrowth writes threateningly under your boots, and you become aware of how close and how heavy the branches of the forest hang to your head. The whole wood seems to echo and rattle with that word: Need. It shakes in the leaves and whispers in the bending bark, hissing violently in your ear from all directions.

The Onod leers down at you, his eyes like furious stars in the darkness. You are not sure if one such as he has need of air, but nonetheless, his chest heaves with rage.

"I REMEMBER WHEN ALL THE LAND WAS WOOD, AND ALL THE EARTH WAS UNDER-BOUGH. THEN THEY CAME OVER THE WATER, CUTTING AND BURNING AND BREAKING! WHAT NEED HAD THEY THEN?"

The Ent's voice is more solid and stable than ever before -- and more threatening, too. The forest looms dark around you, and you know with a grim certainty that if you turned and ran now, you would never see the sun again. You have a century of knowledge in your skull, and you rattle through it desperately for knowledge on the Ents. What little there is, even in Numenor, is sparse. The tree-men have walked this land since before the time of sun and star, and were already ancient when the first men awoke in the utter east. They are old, so old that when they first walked alone they had no tongue, for there was no speech in all the world: they learned to talk from the first elves, who sang with the trees when the world was young.

Ah. There.

"Len suilon, i cherdir galadbavron. Man i eneth lîn?"

The elvish words roll over your tongue like water, and the very woods shudder as they leave your lips. The forest air seems to lose of it's leaden quality, and the darkness that had rushed in around you shrinks back. The looming branches hesitate, seeming for a moment less like claws and more like simple wood, sure and true. Nature knows the tongue of the elves, for it was the First Speech ever heard on Middle-Earth. It was the tongue with which the elves sang to the trees in the years before the sun.

It was the tongue with which they brought friendship to the ents.

The tree-titan pauses as if struck. The moss-beard trembles. The starlike eyes shine bright. The forest is, for a moment, still.

"I HAVE NOT...hoom, I have not heard that tongue in a long time."

The massive ent shakes, and perhaps it is merely a trick of the light, but he does not seem to loom half so large, or look quite so fierce. The creak of his breath is less the bellowing of a dread forge and more the whistling of wind between leaves.

"Hoom. Forgive me, master Elf-Friend. Pah! I have wandered long alone in the darkness, and it seems I have forgotten my own manners. There were others in the woods, but they are long gone and I am alone and very old. I have begun to forget myself in my age, and my temper win the best of me."

He bends the great head to peer down into your own eyes, stroking the tangled beard. A wood-vole scampers up one of his shoulders, then vanishes into an ear.

"To answer your question, little one, I had many names when these woods stretched from sea to sea, in tongue of elf and bird and man as well, but I have long since forgotten them all, save one. Angalpar, I was named by the elves when the stars were new. In your speech it would be...hoom hoom...Ironbark. You may call me by this name, if you must call me any name. Mae Govannen, Tarcil."

Tarcil. High-man, in the Elven tongues.

You bow. "You have no need to apologize, Master Ironbark. We all stray in old age. I am Imrazôr, Belrubên's heir and Zainabeth's son, steward of these lands in the name of Tar-Calmacil the King. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, on behalf of myself and my people, and I greet you in friendship. Mae govannen, Angalpar."

The ent stares at you for a long, curious moment. "You are a strange one, to speak the elf tongues so freely and cheerily, and to bow to ents in friendship. Long has it been since I heard the voices of men sing in the speech of the elves. Your people frown on old things now, on ents and elves and trees alike, and on the tongue they share. It has been lifetimes of your people, Tarcil, since men would call me friend."

"Not all of us have forgotten the old ways, master Ent, or the old words with them. There live some still on Numenor who are friends of all that is old and kind."

The ent lets out a loud bark, an echoing laugh that rings in the forest. "Ironbark, the old and kind! Old perhaps, but I fear I am too old now for kindness. Fair words fall from fair lips, but do fair deeds follow, I wonder? Steward, you name yourself, but these lands have had stewards long before you, Tarcil, and though many are now gone or forgotten, one at least remains."

"I am a steward of men, and yourself a steward of the earth. Our charges not need conflict, nor come to odds."

The Ent snorts again. "Would that it could be so, Tarcil."

"It may," you insist. "The Ents were friends to the first men, and sheltered us when we were young and fled the dark. Stands there any reason why they cannot share the same goodwill with the Numenoreans they shared with our ancestors?"

Ironbark rolls his neck with a creaking sound like the sighing of branches. He is, you realize as he moves, so very very old. You and all your years are a single blink of those gleaming eyes. "There were many Ents then, and so few men. You were naked and small and afraid. You are naked no more, and taller and taller, and your fear has made you cruel. That first foolish kindness has been repaid with steel and smog and fire. There are Men on every shore under the sun, yet where have all the Ents gone, and where are all the Entwives?"

You frown. "They were waylaid by the Enemy, and driven from their lands. It was not men, but the Power that rules in Mordor that has wrought such evil on your people."

Ironbark chuckles again. It is an old laugh. There is no humor in it. "Do they tell you so little, on the Blessed Isle? Not all evils done under the sun can be laid at the feet of Mordor's master. Run back to your tall king, and ask him why there are no tree-sheperds left in all the north."

You open your mouth to speak, but the ent cuts you off with a sigh like oaks splintering. "Go. I was angered before, but now it has settled, and I am...hoom, I do not know what I am. I am old. I am so old and I have changed so much, and yet you and yours remain the same. Have you learned nothing then, in four thousand years? Go, Tarcil, before I remember my rage."

The great ent waves his hand. The undergrowth shrinks away, the tree-branches fall back, and as if remembering itself, the old trail you followed through the forest shrinks out of the darkness, winding away towards sunlit lands.

You consider your words, but find none. Instead, you bow deeply. "Aa' menealle nauva calen ar' malta."

"Would that they remembered how." The Ent bows creakily, then turns away. In a moment he fades into the undergrowth, indistinguishable from the looming trees he shepherds.

You stare into the forest after him for a time, then turn down the way you came. The forest sighs as you leave, as if the trees themselves are whispering a farewell.

New Contact: Ironbark, the Tree-Shepherd

You are the first of the envoys you have sent out to Târ Nîlon's neighbors to return, and news of the tree-herder you found amid the eaves ripples through your colony. The Onodrim were legends in the days of the grandfathers of your people's grandfathers, and it has been long rumored in the Halls of Learning that there are none now left in the world, or at least not in lands where men dwell. You keep his final, cryptic words on the fate of the Ents of the north to yourself, making a mental note to investigate the matter when the opportunity arises. The Ent makes for an uneasy neighbor, at least at this early stage -- your farmers and woodsmen are more cautious at the borders of the wood now, and some on the fringes of the rapidly growing city, far from immediate aid, have taken to treating the trees with a wary reverence.

The recruiting and training of the militia goes better than you could have hoped. Though lacking in the martial tradition of the Hyarnustari, the men and women of your colony are stout and hale-hearted, and take with zeal to the idea of training to defend their new homes. They have quickly fallen in love with this land, and there is no shortage of volunteers for Inzilbeth's men and your own repurposed household guard to whip into shape. Old veterans and ex-soldiers among your people volunteer to assume leadership positions, helping organize the militia into location-based troops with a rough command structure. Though far from an army, or the dedicated mercenary forces of the Guild of Striders, your people are Numenoreans, the high men who have mastered the world. They are stronger, faster, and tire more slowly than other kindreds of mankind -- seven hundred of them in battle array are a formidable prospect, armed with farming implements or no. In just a matter of weeks, your impromptu militia has become a force in which your people may place their safety and their trust.

Critical result! The militia has been formed, and though lacking in any military traditions, their heart and morale more than make up for deficiencies in their training.

Some weeks after your venture into the forest, Inzilbeth returns, her neck adorned with strange jewelry and carvings of studded bone, bearing news from the wilds. She has been well-treated by the Middle-Men, who have taken her to meet one of their great chieftains, a man by the name of Braelor. The Enedwaithrim are wild men, and bold men, but they are long unchanged by the passing of the years. The wood-lord she was granted an audience with is not unlike his great-grandfather, whom Inzilbeth knew in younger days, and his pride and his concerns are much the same. She mentions that foremost on the wildland chief's mind was the specter of war. His people have known strife in recent memory, strife not with orcs or things of the enemy, but with other men. Oddly, he was hesitant to speak deeply on the matter. He and all his people have little love lost for the tall men and their tall ships, but Inzilbeth's persuasions have made them open to a meeting to discuss their relationship with Târ Nîlon. Should you wish it, the wild chieftain shall present himself at the city to break words.

A few days after Inzilbeth's return, another of your envoys comes bearing news from the north. He has made the journey over hill and field and fen to the ford of the River Gwathlo, to Tharbad the fortress of the King, Numenor's lonely outpost in these lonely lands.

It is a fortress no more. Tharbad, the envoy reports, has overgrown it's walls. Thatch huts and longhouses sprawl out from the redoubt on the banks of the Gwathlo, and the ford itself is bridged, a great stone work in the Numenorean style, on the other side of which have sprung up yet more houses and halls. Tharbad might more properly be called a town -- or a city, as the Middle-Men reckon it. The streets are dirt, for the most part, but some are even cobbled, and the Middle-Men who walk them do not wear the furs and leathers to which their people are accustomed, but go clad in finer clothes yet, with brooches of silver and great golden armbands. Your envoy was brought to the castle itself, great parts of which lie now in ruin, and given audience with the Warden of Tharbad.

His name, your envoy reports, is Hazrabân, a tall man with eyes like dark rivers. He is the son of the son of the son of the first Warden, who was appointed to rule these lands nearly a thousand years ago, at the close of the War of the Elves and Sauron. He has inherited the remit of his ancestors, and the lordship of the river. Tharbad is his, and the Gwathlo besides. None may pass it whom he does not permit. At the close of their short meeting, your envoy questioned him on the state of Tharbad and on the dwellings about it, and his reply was simple:

'Numenor left. We, so few in number, made do. The Middle-Men came against us with fire and swords, and so we mastered the Middle-Men. The garrison remains.'

Your envoy marks caution. These men of Tharbad are wild, half-native men with the blood of Numenor. Their fathers passed on their tongue and their swords, but it remains to be seen if they have inherited their love for the land of the star -- a land many of them have never seen. He is cautious with his words, but some among your retinue are not, and a few among them even dare to mutter the word on everyone's minds, their voices thick with distaste:

Halfbreeds.

Diplomatic Opportunities Unlocked:
The Lord of the Middle-Men: Braelor, a proud chieftain of the men who have dwelt in these lands since time immeorial, has offered to come pay his respects to the Sea-Lord at the mouth of the Isen. Take him up on the offer, if you wish.

The Master of the Gwathlo: Hazrabân, the scion of the Wardens of Tharbad and the lord of the lonliest and northernmost of Numenor's military bastions, has called you to audience with him. If you wish to break words with this wild and lonely magistrate, or learn of this 'mastery' he claims to have achieved over the Middle-Men, or how, exactly, he and his have 'made do', you will have to travel to Tharbad yourself.

One final envoy returns last of all from the north, riding down from the Misty Mountains cold. He has met with the dwarves on the plain. There were...communications issues. He had to speak to them in a Mannish dialect of the east, and they to him through a series of translators. But he knows who they are now, and what they want. They are the Blacklock Dwarves, Vâr's people from the Red Mountains in the distant east where even the Tall Men go not. They have marched here six thousand leagues, over plain and desert and mountain and bog. They have marched for years. They have come to avenge the sins of Durin, and work fell deeds for the death of their ancestor Vâr, father of their race. They would not speak of his death, or of the wrong done to them, save to say that they swore long ago and far away that none among their kindred would ever walk beneath the earth or dwell in halls of stone until Var's bones lay right in stone.

Fascinated, your envoy reports that he asked them how they sought to make his death right. At that, their chief, a great dwarf-lord wearing a mighty black helm, laughed a laugh like the snoring of dragons.

The Blacklocks have come to win the Ring of Vâr. They have come to right the ancient wrong. They have come, above all, to lay waste to Durin's folk.

Opportunity Unlocked:
The War of the Blacklocks and the Longbeards: War is come to the Misty Mountains. Durin's Folk, the Longbeard Dwarves of Khazad-Dum, are assailed by their kindred out of the deep east, a strange and warlike race of Dwarves who shun cavern and cave, and dwell instead in the sun. Their grievances, it seems, run as deep and old as any mine ever delved beneath the world, and the mountainpeaks blaze with smoke as the dwarves make war on the dwarves. And at the heart of it all burns like a coal that word: Ring. The Rings of the Dwarves were lost long ago, or so it is said in the Houses of Learning. Perhaps the Houses of Learning do not know everything there is to be known.

The Shapers have sent apprentices and surveyors across the width of the land, searching all along the Angren for suitable stores of stone for your quarries. They have returned with four prospective options that require your input.

-[] Tar Heldrad: The most promising of the potential quarries, Tar Heldrad is a wide hill to the north that lies atop several rich veins of precious ore and massy stone. It is also a place sacred to the Middle-Men -- their altars and halls pockmark the surface of the hill, and your scouts report they perform strange rituals there on many moonlit nights. Many of the Shapers who followed you here have thrown their support behind this option.
-[] Talad Luin: First named by an explorer of the Venturer's Guild who sighted it from the prow of his ship, Talad Luin is a great field of blue grass that stretches along the coast of Enedwaith to the west of the city. The explorer so loved the sight of the blue fronds in the wind that he penned a poem, the Bâtha lo Ayadda, which tells of his love for the fair shore, that later became famous in the Blessed Isle. The Shapers have determined that the color of the grass is due to a particular quality of the minerals in the earth below, and that as such the storied field would make for a good quarry. A number of them agitate for this option.
-[] The Isenfields: Called also the Iron Fields or the Angrenmarsh, the Isenfields are a wide region of marshy land a league or two from the city, fed by a tributary of the river. A distant fen thick with flies, your surveyors nonetheless report signs of promising deposits of good stone there. The fens are used by the Middle-Men as a source of bog iron, but if they could be dealt with and the issue of transportation solved, the Angrenmarsh might prove a valuable source of building material.
-[] Amon Megil: The last of the prospective quarries is Amon Megil, the Hill of the Sword, a great hill between the Gwathlo and the Angren. In ancient times it was the site of a craft-hall of the mighty elven craft-lords of Eregion, the Gwaith-i-Merdain, and it said that when the Enemy came upon their lands, the Jewel-Smiths made a mighty stand here to hold the power of Mordor back. They failed. The hill has been bare for centuries now, but your surveyors say all signs indicate rich stores of stone and precious materials surrounding the hill, no doubt a reason why the Gwaith-i-Merdain erected their redoubt here all those centuries ago. Legend holds that there are ancient elven treasures beneath the hill -- and the bones of doomed elves beside them. It is the furthest possible quarry from the site of your colony, but the rewards might well be worth the risk.

You have also decided to expand the farmsteads, granting leave to the farmers to take more and more land in order to produce food. You are not exactly running on a shortage of clear, fertile land around the city, and so are far from having to micromanage who gets to settle where. However, as your colony grows, and it's stomach with it, you will either need to find a reliable source of food through trade, or expand the farms further still. It is not an immediate concern, but it is something to keep at mind.

As the city grows, the Shapers begin to build rudimentary forges, pale echoes of the great craft-halls of Numenor. They are eager to resume their work, and take to the task of constructing appropriate facilities with aplomb. The designs and locations for a wall are sketched out and mapped, and need only a reliable source of stone to begin construction.

Last among your concerns is the matter of the Rangers. Many of the men of Hyarrostar who sailed here with you have already become adept at living amid the wilds of this new land, traveling faster on foot through forest than others might on horse upon a road. Those who have taken to this skill feed their families by trapping and hunting, but they also provide eyes and ears across the wild lands you have come to settle. These scouts move faster and quicker than warriors in full battle array, and you imagine they might serve as an able warning system should danger threaten the city. You form a small volunteer force of these hunters, who, lightly clad and armed with bows, shall stalk the forests in Numenor's name.

They are established just in time. Two weeks after you first send them out, a young Ranger reports finding an odd footprint in her travels. Black claws in the mud along the shore, unmistakable to any with eyes to see.

Orcs.

Pick Ten (10) options. You may personally assign yourself and Inzilbeth each to any votes you pick, making them personal options. As you have 2 heroes, you may make two votes personal options. Specify which character you want to send on which mission in the plan vote. Uriphel will be busy until the next turn, and cannot be assigned to an option.

Growth: The city begins to grow, and with it's growth come a host of issues and decisions for you to make. These may be put off until later, but absent input your people may do what they will.

[] The Mariners: You direct your Shapers to focus their efforts on the harbors and coastal regions, which will allow your mariners to begin making expeditions to the Blessed Isle and other colonies of Numenor. The seafaring Romennans will be gladdened by such attentions.
[] The Wide Woods: The woods that ring the mouth of the Isen have already been pushed back in order to accommodate your growing colony. Push them back further yet, and gain valuable wood for sale and land on which to settle. There is another steward. He watches with bright eyes.
[] Give Excess Land To The Shapers: Room to grow. Room to build. Room to make. They may love you for it.
[] Give Excess Land To The Milita: Room to train. Room to fight. Room to learn how to kill, and kill well. It is the sort of thing that breeds loyalty.
[] Give Excess Lands To The Farmers: A city is built on till and plow and seed. There is enough now. Will there be always? Set aside more, just in case.

Defense: You are not alone in Middle-Earth, and Numenor the Blessed has many enemies. The defense of your fledgling colony is one of your foremost priorities.

[] Establish Outposts: Hovels in the wood. Towers on the hills. Eyes in the night. The city shall not be approached unawares.
[] Expand the Militia: Enlist more volunteers to the defense of the city, should you think it necessary.
[] The Artifice of War: You have seen war in far Harad, and know something of the engines of killing and destruction, of the mighty machines your people have loosed in the southern Jungles. Some of these principles might be applied to the defense of your fledgling colony. (Requires Imrazor)
[] Requisition Weapons: You have few weapons or armaments at the moment, but you could request a stock of such from the Shapers...putting you more in their favor.
[] Establish An Alarm System: Horns on the heights. Flames in the dark. A warning in the night: Fear! Fire! Foes! Awake!
[] Orcs: Orcs. From end to end they scour Middle-Earth, leaving filth and ruin and woe in their wake. They are in the north and the south and the west and the east, more virulent and violent than any beast of earth or sky. They are everywhere. And now, it seems, they are here. Send scouts to pick the land apart for them. And then, hunt. (This is a repeatable option)

Diplomacy: You are not alone in Middle-Earth. There are many realms and powers which dot the land, some more receptive than others. Making friends with even a few could ease many future worries in the days and years to come. Lacking a harbor and crews to man your ships, you must send all emissaries by horse and foot, limiting your immediate diplomatic options to those polities located relatively close to the City, in Eriador.

[] The Lord of the Middle-Men: Braelor, a proud chieftain of the Enedwaithrim who have dwelt in these lands since time immeorial, has offered to come pay his respects to the Sea-Lord at the mouth of the Isen. Take him up on the offer, if you wish. (requires Imrazor)
[] The Master of the Gwathlo: Hazrabân, the scion of the Wardens of Tharbad and the lord of the lonliest and northernmost of Numenor's military bastions, has called you to audience with him. If you wish to break words with this wild and lonely magistrate, or learn of this 'mastery' he claims to have achieved over the Middle-Men, or how, exactly, he and his have 'made do', you will have to travel to Tharbad yourself. (requires hero)
[] Send An Envoy To Lond Daer: Once the mighty harbor of Vinyalonde in days gone by, the port city now known as Lond Daer, sat on the mouth of the river Gwathlo, has declined since it's glory days. It's once-packed harbors are bare, and a dwindling population of mariners and woodsmen eke out a living among it's pillared halls. It is said the men of Lond Daer keep close contact with the elves.
[] Send An Envoy To Rivendell: Imladris, or Rivendell, is an elvish stronghold deep in the heartlands of Minhiriath. Founded and ruled by the Elf-Lord Elrond Halfelven, it serves as a bastion of wisdom and learning in these later days of the world, projecting Elvish might into all eastern Eriador. The elves of Rivendell are force to be reckoned with, and are great traders and loremasters besides. It would not be unwise to make their acquaintance.
[] Send An Envoy To Lindon: Far to the north, beyond the Blue Mountains, lies the Elvish realm of Lindon, the mightiest realm between the mountains and the sea. Here rules undying Gil-Galad, the High King of whom the songs are sung and the greatest of all the elven-lords of Middle-Earth. Though their might has dwindled much since they warred with Sauron, the northern Elves are still great in strength and skill, a fading echo of the glory of Elder Days. (Takes two turns)
[] Send an Envoy to Dor-en-Ernil: The sister-settlements of Dor-en-Ernil and Edhellond lie far to the southeast in the Bay of Belfalas beyond the Anduin. Populated by both men and elves, the greatest power in these lands are the Lord and Lady of Edhellond, the Elf-prince Celeborn and his wife, the Elf-Lady Galadriel. Belfalas is a rich land and a good land, packed thick with food and fair things, and establishing a relationship with it's masters might benefit your city. . (Takes two turns)
[] The War of the Blacklocks and the Longbeards: War is come to the Misty Mountains. Durin's Folk, the Longbeard Dwarves of Khazad-Dum, are assailed by their kindred out of the deep east, a strange and warlike race of Dwarves who shun cavern and cave, and dwell instead in the sun. Their grievances, it seems, run as deep and old as any mine ever delved beneath the world, and the mountainpeaks blaze with smoke as the dwarves make war on the dwarves. And at the heart of it all burns like a coal that word: Ring. The Rings of the Dwarves were lost long ago, or so it is said in the Houses of Learning. Perhaps the Houses of Learning do not know everything there is to be known.
-[] Send an envoy to Durin's Folk (requires hero)
-[] Send an envoy to the Blacklocks (requires hero)
[] Ironbark: In the deeps of the Iron Forest dwells an ent, an old thing with old eyes. He is no foe, not yet. But he is no friend of men, you do not think. Not anymore. Break words with him, and see if the strength of oak and yew might be bent in friendship. (requires hero)

Opportunity: There are a variety of miscellaneous opportunities available to you which could benefit either yourself or the colony. You can also launch explorations of the surrounding lands and seas from here, but be careful -- Middle-Earth is not safe, nor is it tamed, and not all you send out may return.

[] Fulfill Guild Map Contracts: The Guild of Venturers has a permanent contract for any new maps of inland Middle-Earth, for which they pay lump sums to colonies and individuals who fulfill it. You currently have 1 map for sale, and could reach out to sell it, earning money and reputation with the Venturers.
[]The Pukel-Paths: Ancient, winding paths have been cut into the White Mountains, guarded by twisted pagan statues in the shape of squat, monstrous men. You could send scouts within, to find the men who cut these paths and learn their purpose.
[] The Misty Mountains: The Misty Mountains which straddle the spine of Eriador are some of the tallest mountains in Middle-Earth. From the great outposts of the dwarves to the deep caves of the goblin-kings, there are many secrets to be found amid the snowy peaks. You send men into the high mountains to explore and map them.
[] The Land of the Ringmakers: Eregion, to your north, was once one of the great Elvish realms until it's destruction by the Dark Lord in the War of the Elves and Sauron long ago. Here dwelt the elf-smiths whom the Enemy tricked into creating the Rings of Power, and amid the ruins of their halls and cities lie ancient artifacts from the glory days of the Elves. You send explorers and riders into this land to map it. Mapping Eregion is the first step towards beginning to search it's ruins for the lore-treasures the Shapers hope lie within.
[] The Gwathlo: The Gwathlo, or the Angathurush, is the great river which marks the northern border of Enedwaith and Minhiriath. Traveling it's length and fording it is the first step to an exploration of Minhiriath. Minhiriath was once well-mapped, having been the first land settled by the Numenoreans, but nigh on a thousand years have passed since explorers combed every inch of this land. Who knows how it has changed since then? The Guild of Venturers might pay good coin for new maps.
[] Contact the Striders: Your scouts and repurposed mariners serve well enough, but opening a contract with one of the mercenary forces scattering Middle-Earth would both allow you access to professional explorers and a dedicated force of trained soldiers.
[] Appease the Venturers: Currently, no Guild-licensed traders or explorers are permitted to visit your growing colony, stifling trade and travel from the mainland. If you have enough money, reputation, or believe you can make a go of it, appeal to the Venturers. If you offer enough coin, or your colony has grown too large for them to feasibly strangle it in it's cradle, they may pay you heed and stop their embargo.

QM ANNOUNCEMENT: No votes not in plan form will be accepted. There Is a twelve hour moratorium before voting can begin. No votes before this time will be accepted.

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Westernesse: A Númenórean Colony Quest

Westernesse: A Númenorean Colony Quest

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