[X] Plan How to Win Friends and Influence Shapers
Westernesse: A Númenórean Colony Quest
- Thread starter Telamon
- Start date
If we took the Amon Megil option, couldn't we try to bury the remains of the fallen elves with appropriate burial rites?
I'm assuming that those are the remains of people who fell in battle, so we could dig them up and honour them with a proper burial.
Could this appease anyone who would be mad at us for digging in that place?
I'm assuming that those are the remains of people who fell in battle, so we could dig them up and honour them with a proper burial.
Could this appease anyone who would be mad at us for digging in that place?
ConfusedCanuck
Where did it all go wrong?
- Location
- Neverland
[X] Plan How to Win Friends and Influence Shapers
Curses, why did I not see this sooner! This has been written well so far, and I'm excited to see it grow! That excitement and a lack of things to do led to this map! It should be accurate, more or less, depending on if the History of Middle-earth series is being used in this.
The colors should mostly be self evident. The sickly green are the Druedain. Orange are Pre-Númenóreans (like the Dunelendings). The purple line around the Greenwood are remnants of the Northmen that survived the War of Sauron and the Elves. Light blue are remnants of the Firebeard and Broadbeam Dwarf clans that survived the War of Wrath and didn't migrate to Khazad-dum.
The colors should mostly be self evident. The sickly green are the Druedain. Orange are Pre-Númenóreans (like the Dunelendings). The purple line around the Greenwood are remnants of the Northmen that survived the War of Sauron and the Elves. Light blue are remnants of the Firebeard and Broadbeam Dwarf clans that survived the War of Wrath and didn't migrate to Khazad-dum.
- Location
- France
Maybe, but if we want to get thoses sweet Second and First Age artefacts, we will still need to rob the dead, and possibly anger the elves.
To not anger them, we should limit ourselves to studing texts and inscriptions in the ruins, and for that, asking Elrond for help and perhaps a joint expedition is a better plan than mining this far away tomb for stone.
Anyways,
[X] Plan How to Win Friends and Influence Shapers
Last edited:
- Location
- Texas
Curses, why did I not see this sooner! This has been written well so far, and I'm excited to see it grow! That excitement and a lack of things to do led to this map! It should be accurate, more or less, depending on if the History of Middle-earth series is being used in this.
The colors should mostly be self evident. The sickly green are the Druedain. Orange are Pre-Númenóreans (like the Dunelendings). The purple line around the Greenwood are remnants of the Northmen that survived the War of Sauron and the Elves. Light blue are remnants of the Firebeard and Broadbeam Dwarf clans that survived the War of Wrath and didn't migrate to Khazad-dum.
This map is...actually rather accurate. Pretty well-done, too. The settlement at Dol Amroth should be striped since it's mixed Elvish and Númenorean, but otherwise it's spot on.
ThatGuyWithIdeas
Treize died for our sins
- Location
- Romania
[X] Plan How to Win Friends and Influence Shapers
Hm, I'll get on that soon enough. I'll just assume that the other Numenorean fortifications along the Gwathlo, between Lond Daer and Tharbad, were basically abandoned. I'll probably change the green for the Tharbad settlement to orange.
I'll also have to think about how to represent the possible locations of Tal Elmar.
[X] Plan How to Win Friends and Influence Shapers
I find the options picked agreeable. It looks good to me.
I find the options picked agreeable. It looks good to me.
- Location
- Canada
- Pronouns
- Him/He
I understand that many here are big into the whole industrialisation/craftsman aspect even if it isn't my cup of tea, and I accept that's the approach we have taken.
This being said, I disagree that to keep going with this approach and maximise its benefits we should pretty pretty much default to take the shaper-related options in the bulk of cases. What to with the extra land is a good example where it doesn't make sense to me: the Shapers have already invested a ton of ressources and political capital on us, we don't need to give them an extra gift to further build on relationships with them.
IMO what is needed above all at this stage is pragmatism. We need to deal with any potential obstacles to our growth and with our relations with folks who are in our close vicinity and/or are already relevant to our situation instead of merely potentially be in the future.
[ ] Plan Expansion and Defence
Quarry Site
-[ ] 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.
Actions
-[ ] 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.
-[ ] Establish Outposts: Hovels in the wood. Towers on the hills. Eyes in the night. The city shall not be approached unawares.
-[ ] 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.
-[ ] 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.
-[ ] 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)
--[ ] Imrazor
- [] 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.
-[ ] 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)
--[ ] Inzilbeth
-[] 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.
- [] 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
To some degree it is similar to Chimeriguard's plan but there is a few differences that, I feel, are crucial.
Basically we don't know if the Orcs are an isolated group or if there is more of them not too far so better to build a solid defense (we can afford to ask for the weapons to the shaper considering how important our venture is to them in the grand scheme of things). With some training grounds and better weapons we can build our militia into as formidable a force as we can until we have more settlers coming on. Add it to the outposts and alarm system and we will have a solid infrastructure for our own protection here! Beyond that we need to come to some kind of modus vivendi with Ironbark and the local Middle-Men and create greater commercial ties with Numenor and the other colonies, which means appeasing the Venturers.
I would have liked to go back to Tharbad but we don't have a hero available and dealing too much with the dwarves will risk drawing us in their wars, something we can't really afford at this stage of our development. Finally, on the quary, I agree with everyone else that we should go with the safe options. Every other options seem further affield and therefore stuff we can afford to wait until later to deal with.
This being said, I disagree that to keep going with this approach and maximise its benefits we should pretty pretty much default to take the shaper-related options in the bulk of cases. What to with the extra land is a good example where it doesn't make sense to me: the Shapers have already invested a ton of ressources and political capital on us, we don't need to give them an extra gift to further build on relationships with them.
IMO what is needed above all at this stage is pragmatism. We need to deal with any potential obstacles to our growth and with our relations with folks who are in our close vicinity and/or are already relevant to our situation instead of merely potentially be in the future.
[ ] Plan Expansion and Defence
Quarry Site
-[ ] 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.
Actions
-[ ] 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.
-[ ] Establish Outposts: Hovels in the wood. Towers on the hills. Eyes in the night. The city shall not be approached unawares.
-[ ] 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.
-[ ] 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.
-[ ] 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)
--[ ] Imrazor
- [] 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.
-[ ] 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)
--[ ] Inzilbeth
-[] 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.
- [] 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
To some degree it is similar to Chimeriguard's plan but there is a few differences that, I feel, are crucial.
Basically we don't know if the Orcs are an isolated group or if there is more of them not too far so better to build a solid defense (we can afford to ask for the weapons to the shaper considering how important our venture is to them in the grand scheme of things). With some training grounds and better weapons we can build our militia into as formidable a force as we can until we have more settlers coming on. Add it to the outposts and alarm system and we will have a solid infrastructure for our own protection here! Beyond that we need to come to some kind of modus vivendi with Ironbark and the local Middle-Men and create greater commercial ties with Numenor and the other colonies, which means appeasing the Venturers.
I would have liked to go back to Tharbad but we don't have a hero available and dealing too much with the dwarves will risk drawing us in their wars, something we can't really afford at this stage of our development. Finally, on the quary, I agree with everyone else that we should go with the safe options. Every other options seem further affield and therefore stuff we can afford to wait until later to deal with.
- Location
- Finland
[X] Plan How to Win Friends and Influence Shapers
- Location
- Tarn-Vedra
[X] Plan How to Win Friends and Influence Shapers
Vote closed
- Location
- Texas
AzureShogun
Tanks are better than Mechs
- Location
- United Kingdom
Is there any chance of getting his help to discover, or rediscover as the case may be, renewable methods of harvesting wood?
I'm thinking the elves probably knew of some way to use wood to make bows and shit that didn't involve killing trees or upsetting Ents, and if we pose it as a will to do better by his herd of trees Ironbark might share such lore with us. Maybe. Possible. One day...
Or we could try and and see if Elrond wants to help I guess.
I think properly tending the forest might help, like re-planting trees instead of simply clear cutting it and moving on.
- Location
- Canada
- Pronouns
- Him/He
See, I am pretty sure that was fully intentional from Tolkien too, as one of his most attractive traits was how critical he was of the British Empire for his time and place.
VI: The Lord of the Tower
- Location
- Texas
[X] Plan How to Win Friends and Influence Shapers
Quarry Site
-[X] 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.
Actions
-[X] 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.
- [X] Give Excess Land To The Shapers: Room to grow. Room to build. Room to make. They may love you for it.
-[X] Establish Outposts: Hovels in the wood. Towers on the hills. Eyes in the night. The city shall not be approached unawares.
-[X] Establish An Alarm System: Horns on the heights. Flames in the dark. A warning in the night: Fear! Fire! Foes! Awake!
-[X] 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.
-[X] 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)
--[X] Imrazor
- [X] 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)
--[X] Inzilbeth
-[X] 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.
- [X] 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.
-[X] 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.
Quarry Site
-[X] 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.
Actions
-[X] 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.
- [X] Give Excess Land To The Shapers: Room to grow. Room to build. Room to make. They may love you for it.
-[X] Establish Outposts: Hovels in the wood. Towers on the hills. Eyes in the night. The city shall not be approached unawares.
-[X] Establish An Alarm System: Horns on the heights. Flames in the dark. A warning in the night: Fear! Fire! Foes! Awake!
-[X] 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.
-[X] 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)
--[X] Imrazor
- [X] 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)
--[X] Inzilbeth
-[X] 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.
- [X] 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.
-[X] 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 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
- Military
- Guild Influence
- Heroes
- The Realms of Middle-Earth
Telamon rolls 1d100 = 81 #Searching Eregion
Telamon rolls 1d100 = 42 #Searching the Misty Mountains
Telamon rolls 1d100 = 88 #EregionMap
Telamon rolls 1d100 = 62 #MountainMap
Telamon rolls 1d100 = 86 #HuntTheOrcs
Telamon rolls 1d100 = 91 #HeroEvent
Telamon rolls 1d100 = 42 #Searching the Misty Mountains
Telamon rolls 1d100 = 88 #EregionMap
Telamon rolls 1d100 = 62 #MountainMap
Telamon rolls 1d100 = 86 #HuntTheOrcs
Telamon rolls 1d100 = 91 #HeroEvent
When Inzilbeth the Sea-Strider was a young girl, young even by the reckoning of the Middle-Men, her father had been made the lord of Vinyalonde. It was not an auspicious assignment, nor a kind one. He was an Elf-Friend, who summered often in Harlond, on the shores of Lindon, and was held in high esteem among the Eldar. But even in her youth such associations had come to be frowned upon by the King and his men. Her father been exiled for his sympathies, driven from the Blessed Isle to this forgotten corner of Middle-Earth to wait out the last of his long years. It was here she had been raised, amid the Middle-Men whose lives were short and whose loves were fleeting. She had grown restless later, as all youths do, and had taken to the sea, which was to be her greatest love. In the many years since she had seen far waves and strange shores, but never had she forgotten the land of her girlhood, and the high forests of the wild men.
She had never visited Tharbad in that distant youth. Even when she was a girl, it was half-forgotten: a six-and-a-half-hundred year old afterthought on the fringes of Numenor's world, most notable as the northernmost point on a map where one might point and say "Here also are the tall men." A relic of an ancient war, an outpost against nothing, buried in the wilderness.
But this was no outpost. The envoy had not lied. As her black horse trotted over cobbled roads past thatched roofs and stone houses, Inzilbeth had to stop herself from gaping. The Middle-Men of her youth had been wild -- proud, yes, but wild all the same, men who lived lives huddled around campfires in the dark, wearing rags and sheepskins, eating whatever they might kill with their hands. They were not as the High Men were, this truth all knew. They did not build, or farm, or plant growing things. They lived half-lives little better than animals, and fled in terror before the coming of the Númenóreans. It was only with the greatest effort that they could be taught something like civilization.
Yet now they strode down the streets of what was unmistakably a town, garbed in cloth and cotton and silk, wearing bracelets and armbands of gold. And far from fleeing in terror, they merely regarded her with a cool curiosity, their dark eyes and pale faces betraying little emotion. The tall men were nothing new to them, it seemed.
Could so much change in three hundred years?
The settlement Tharbad had become stretched to either side of the River Gwathlo, and it's streets were populated with traders and farmers and travelers. It was not quite a city, not yet, but Inzilbeth had seen enough settlements rise and fall over her long life to know that it was merely a matter of time. In a generation, perhaps a little less, this town would expand and spill out from these already impressive beginnings, until something undeniably a city of the Middle-Men straddled the river Gwathlo.
And at it's heart...Tharbad. A wonder of Old Númenórean construction, it had been the beating heart of a wall of fortifications erected in older days -- over a thousand years before Inzilbeth's birth -- to hold the Dark Lord out of the North. Tharbad alone remained, four stories tall and ringed by high walls of black Númenórean Iron with arched battlements and fortifications that ten men could hold ten years against ten thousand. Above it all rose a tower with three spires, black as the dark behind the stars, that loomed over the river and the forest and all the wide world below. It made for a jarring sight -- amid the longhouses and wooden constructions of the Middle-Men rose a bastion of something older and greater than they might ever dare to dream.
Here, it seemed to say to all with eyes to see, is Númenór. Here it shall remain.
Her guide, a woman with dirty blonder hair perhaps three feet shorter than Inzilbeth herself, guided her slowly through the simple city streets. The town was loosely planned and cramped, and ran right up to the walls, where the streets grow too thick and unkempt for horses. She left her steed -- a great stallion foaled in the stables of Armenelos and reared on the golden fields of Tal Karab -- in a wooden stable which scraped it's head, tied up next to draft horses which it made look like ponies.
The guide led her up the path from the stable and through the great main gate of Tharbad, an imposing structure with a mighty portcullis that could be lowered in times of need. The gate-guards, she noticed, wore armor in the Númenórean style, though worn and cracked, showing signs of many mendings. As the envoy reported, the courtyard beyond the gate sat in a state of disrepair. Several of the walls had clearly been repaired many times, and entire sections of the battlements lay crumbled from some long-ago assault.
Through the worn courtyard they went, past the wide gates of the tower and up the winding steps, past kitchens and mess halls and mouldering libraries, past rooms painted white with cobwebs and others blanketed in dust, past barracks built for thousands of men that now housed dozens, until at last they were come to the Hall of the Warden, where her guide departed with a small curtsy.
Hazrabân awaited her there, standing before a long painted table that dominated the room. He was tall, even as the Númenóreans reckoned such things, perhaps seven and a half feet, with dark hair and ruddy skin. Like his men, he wore burnished golden armor that shone as it moved. The White Tree burned on his chest. His armor, Inzilbeth noted, was in far better condition than the ones at the gate. It must have been tended with great care to survive a thousand years in such a state.
She entered the Hall and paused before the Warden. There was a long moment's silence, and she dared to wonder if they had forgotten even this. Then the tall man lowered his head and made the ancient sign of greeting with his forearm.
"Welcome, daughter of the Gift, to mine hall. Gimlun bêl nakhat-ze 'nNê."
May a star shine on the hour of our meeting.
Inzilbeth nodded and released a breath she did not know she had been holding. Not all was forgotten, then, even here. The form was archaic, but the words were right, even if the accent was slurred.
"Hail, son of the star. I come as a sister and a friend. Gimlun bêl nakhat-ze 'nNê. Aglâr Nâkhadâ."
May a star shine on the hour of our meeting. Glory be ever upon you.
"I am Hazrabân, Algadar's heir and Beruphiel's son. I greet you."
"I am Inzilbeth, Círhael's heir and Abrazân's daughter. I greet you."
She closed the ancient greeting with a bow, then rose to face the lord of the tower.
The Warden smiled. "Did you think perhaps we had forgotten?
She chose her words carefully. "There were some among us who feared you might have...strayed."
Hazrabân fixed her with his eyes. They were soft and green, but something hard and strange glinted deep within them. "We are Adûnaim, as our fathers and their fathers before us. Ours was the Gift. We do not stray."
There was a note of something strange in his voice. Inzilbeth flicked her eyes over the polished armor again. It was polished to a shine, to a gleam, polished furiously and lovingly, polished by hands that she noted were still red with the intensity of it. She saw the rod-straightness in his back and then, once more, looked into his eyes. She recognized the hardness now, and smiled sadly to see it.
"Of course, my Lord Warden. I am sorry for the suggestion. You are proud men of Númenór, as fine and bold as any knights I have ever seen. You honor your land and your king."
Hazrabân's shoulders shook almost imperceptibly, and his next breath came shakily, though he tried to hide it. She had been right, after all. Not hardness, but fear.
"We are the first, are we not? In your lifetime, at least."
The man shook his head. "No. There was another. When I was a boy. A mapmaker. My father was Warden then. But he had been born on the Isle. He knew the right things to say, the right words, the right..."
He clenched his teeth and fixed her with a passionate glare. "I know how it must look. How I must sound. How we must look. The walls, rubbled. The tower, half-empty. Our last Shaper died when my father took up the post of Warden, and that was...what, almost two hundred years ago?"
Hazrabân falls into silence. In the quiet that follows, he runs a hand over the painted table. A featureless golden ring glints on his finger. The table is a great fresco of the War with Sauron, lovingly illustrated down to the finest of details. Orc-eyes shine and elf-swords gleam, and at the very center of the table, Tar-Minastir the King holds his sword aloft atop the battlements of a tower that can only be Tharbad itself, as it stood one thousand years ago. Beneath, the forces of Mordor break upon the walls, black blood spilled on silver spears. Here, the Dark Lord's hosts were broken in the War of the Elves and Sauron, and Sauron himself fled before the Sea-Kings. Here, Númenór saved all Eriador. The two Númenóreans study the table for a long moment.
When Hazrabân speaks again, it is almost a whisper.
"All I ask...all I ask...is that you not judge us too harshly. We have done right with what was left to us. The tower stands. We remain. Is that not what our fathers' fathers were left to do? Have we not done the duty?"
Inzilbeth heard the tightness in his words.
"As I said, my Lord Warden: you are proud men of Númenór. As fine and bold as any knights I have ever seen. The Middle-Men below, however..."
"Middle-men? Oh, yes, the Baradhrim."
"Baradhrim...men-of-the-tower?"
"Yes. In my grandfather's day, orcs came to cross the Gwathlo. We held them back, but even then we were too few. We could not hold the lands around the ford. We could not protect everyone. So we called them here, lest they be slaughtered in their thousands. They remained, after. They bred, and took up our speech and our ways. We shelter them from harm and in turn they grow our food."
"You said also that the Middle-Men came against you with fire and sword?"
"A lifetime ago, by their count. A trifling thing. There was trouble. One of them claimed himself a king. He sought to take Tharbad, and fomented his kinsmen against us. They no longer remembered how we had saved their ancestors -- all they could think on was the wealth they imagined we held in this tower. It was orc-work, plain and simple." His eyes grow dark with memory.
"What happened?"
"What happened? My lady Seastrider, we are Númenóreans still. They came against us in their thousands, and they died in their thousands. We lost thirteen, a loss we could ill afford. They lost too many to count, and their upjumped chieftain fell beneath these very walls. No, they did not trouble us overmuch. It was the men of darkness who cost us far too much."
"Servants of the Shadow, here?"
He nods. "Enemies. Aliens. They are not of the Edain. They brought death to our doors perhaps...thirty years past? But we drove them back, though we could ill afford the price.
Inzilbeth rested a hand on the young Warden's shoulder. "You have been through much, and perservered against more than most of our people know in such times. When I return to the colony, I shall beseech my lord for aid for your men. There are many Shapers among us, skilled workers of the Iron who could repair your walls."
He turns and bows deep. "That is more than I could ever have dreamed, my lady. You show too much kindness to these simple servants of the King. If this kindness can be returned, let it. Tharbad has become a center of trade for many of the...Middle-Men, as you call them. We recieve traders here from north and east and south, and from places I doubt they have heard of even in Númenór. Even the Dwarves visit, though uncommonly. There are many things bright and strange that lie in our vaults now, and these lands are rich with their own natural treasures -- dyes, herbs, growing things which could be of great use to a colony. We would gladly offer them in friendship if you did this thing for us."
Inzilbeth bows herself. "You are too generous, Lord Warden. I must depart, but may the stars shine always upon you, son of the star."
"And upon you, daughter of the Gift."
Opportunity Unlocked:
The Walls of Tharbad: Tharbad has stood a thousand years, and it's walls once repelled the forces of the dark lord at the ford of the Gwathlo. Those same walls lie now in ruin, but might be raised again given time and effort. The master of Tharbad has promised great things should his walls be restored to the glory of his fathers' time, and endless friendship besides.
On the day you are to receive the chieftain of the Middle-Men, you gather with some of your retinue outside the half-built walls of the city. You do not know what to expect, but you will not receive some wildling prince as a beggar. You are a Sea-Lord of Númenór, and will look the part. Your household guards are formed up in battle-array, all twenty-something of their spears and shields shining in the sun. You garb yourself in your finest robes of midnight blue, with what few trinkets and finery you brought with you over the sea. Upon your brow, the golden circlet of your office, stamped with the seven-rayed sun-and-tree which is the sigil of the Blessed Isle. Whatever motley array the Middle-Men present themselves with, you will be ready.
Or so you think.
In the early morning, just as the sun begins to crest the mountains, a horse and rider melt out of the woods. The horse is little better than a pony, and the rider is a man of middle age with fading hair streaked with grey. He wears a simple cloak over a woven tunic of thick furs and leathers. A thick golden torc sits about his neck, and a golden ring on his finger. He draws the horse to a stop a few yards from you and your soldiers.
"I am Braelor, lord of Brun Gledd, and all who therin dwell." he calls. "I have come to meet with the lord of the tall men." His speech comes in the thick, rough dialect of the Middle-Men — a strange tongue, and crude, but mutually intelligible with that of your people, for their ancestor's ancestors were kin to the Edain of old, who became the Númenóreans. This is what holds his folk, the Middle-Men, apart from the men of darkness, who are no kin to you and yours.
Feeling almost foolish to be surrounded by twenty men before one, you call back. "This is I, Imrazôr, Belrubên's heir and Zainabeth's son. I greet you, Braelor of Brun Gledd."
The Middle-Man slides off of his horse and approaches you. His eyes flicker warily over the assembled soldiers.
"If you had hoped to cow me into kneeling with such a display, I am afraid you will be sorely disappointed, Númenórean."
You frown. "I ask no one to kneel."
The chieftain smiles tightly. "Yes, the Númenóreans rarely ask."
One of your retinue steps forward, his face a mask of rage, but you wave him back with a hand.
"Explain. We are no masters of your people."
"By who's doing? Mine, and my fathers', and my fathers' fathers. But those days must end, I admit. I am no fool, though I am proud, which I have found is much the same thing. You will live to see my grandchildren grow old, Númenórean, and their children's children. Who can stand against this, against a will that will outlast theirs by a century? But your hand comes in silk and words, and friendly faces out of legend, and so I will kneel to you rather than the others who seek my fealty, that I might go to my grave in the belief my people are safe, foolish a hope as it might be."
You shake your head slowly. "I do not seek your service or your fealty. I am newly come to these shores, and wish only to greet my neighbors and extend to them friendship. I am master of nothing but this city. Whoever or whatever has done you wrong, it was not me or mine."
The old chieftain studies your eyes. "Truly? I had thought..."
He trails off.
"Perhaps I have been mistaken, then. I have taken for threats offers made in innocence. I apologize, my Lord Imrazor. It would seem you are not like the others who rule in these lands. I do not come alone out of humility, but because none of my people's warriors may be spared. We defend day and night for an enemy that may sweep down from the darkness and take all we hold dear."
You nod. "Your error is forgotten, and I extend my sympathies. We have already seen orc-signs in these parts. If your people wish aid--"
The old chieftain cuts you off. "Orcs? Bah! The men of the wood have little to fear from orcs. They die in our traps or on the ends of our spears. Nay, I speak of the others like you. The slavers who come in the night. The tall conquerors who butchered my father and his father's father, who have reduced my people that once ruled all these lands to quivering in the dirt."
He points a single quivering finger to the north, towards the river that cuts slowly across the horizon and winds towards the sea.
"I speak of the Tyrant in the Tower. Once we stood against him. All of us, from the river to the mountain. We hoped it might be enough. We hoped -- well, it does not matter what we hoped. My father is dead, and no king rules in Enedwaith save the master in Tharbad. Minhiriath has fallen, and all too soon we shall be next."
Diplomatic Opportunity Unlocked:
The Tyrant in the Tower: The chieftain of the Middle-Men spins a tale of woe and horror. He speaks of tribes butchered and enslaved, of the lands north and south of the River Gwathlo bent in servitude to the fortress on the ford, to the Tyrant in the Tower. It is, to hear them tell it, a tyranny of centuries, one which has nearly reached it's grim conclusion. The Enedwaithrim of Brun Gledd throw themselves at your feet for aid. They, they claim, are the last of their people who breathe free air. Some among your advisors insist that the truth of this matter must be investigated, while others dismiss it as the ravings of Middle-Men -- or, worse yet, a lie of the Enemy.
You dwell in a land with old history. Eriador, the western arm of Middle-Earth, was not always the wide and wild land it is now. In the early days of the Second Age, the elves built a great city called Ost-in-Edhil on the banks of the Sirannon, in the shadow of that great mountain called Celebdil by the elves and Zirakzigil by the dwarves. A road of red stone ran from this city to the very doors of Khazad-Dum, which then stood open always to all friends of the Dwarves. Beryls, opals, pearl and jade all flowed along this mighty road, and the cities of the elves and the dwarves alike swelled in splendor and riches. They shared not only wealth, but friendship -- in those days, the finest artists and craftsmen of the elder races joined together to make works of beauty still yet unmatched in Middle-Earth. Elvish songs were heard beneath the mountains, and wonders untold were made of mithril bright in the thousand forges of Eregion. Deep then they delved together, and high halls they wrought, and fair things and fey they worked upon the world.
But now the great road lies in ruins. Ost-in-Edhil is deserted, and the Doors of Durin are shut. No elf-songs are heard in the halls of stone, and no hammer rings in the city of the smiths. A shadow lies over the land of the Ringmakers, and their forges lie forever cold.
Yet some things remain from those bright days. Great elvish ruins dot Eregion, echoes of an age lost to time. Most have been picked clean over the course of a thousand years, but some hold their treasures still. Not all the ghosts of this land belong to the Elves, however: old halls lie forgotten on the slopes of Celebdil and Caradhras, dwarven fortresses from kinder days when they still dwelt in friendship beneath the sun. These were abandoned in the war with Sauron, and many dark things have crept in to fill them in the millennia since. Many believe that the ruins of Eregion may hold arts and secrets that were lost in the downfall, scrolls of lore and ways of working steel that even the dwarves no longer know -- and greater knowledge besides. Here of old, all know, were forged the Rings of Power. Here yet might remain a trace of their making.
You send riders out into the wide lands and the misty mountains, searching for places long lost to time and memory. The going is not easy. The best maps you possess are nearly seven hundred years old, and much has changed. Rivers have shifted, old ways have been overgrown, and landmarks once unmistakable have crumbled or fallen away. The rangers you send to Eregion cannot even make their way to the old elven capital, so badly decayed are their maps, but in their wanderings they stumble across a sign that they are close: an overgrown mansion in the wilderness, a great dwelling-hall in the Elven style. After cross-referencing with old maps and books, they determine that this must be Nargil-Dûm, a place of dwelling built for the Dwarf-Prince Thain, who was a great friend to the Dwarves of Eregion.
The explorers who traveled to the Misty Mountains were sucessful as well, to an extent. In the high passes of Caradhras, in the spine of the mountains, they stumbled on an abandoned dwarf-dwelling called Nelchrost. With it's high walls and deep tunnels, it served as a formidable redoubt against the Enemy when Sauron invaded Eregion. The fortress in the mountain is only one part of the complex -- the histories say that the tunnels of Nelchrost run deep and wide beneath the mountain's skin, and just how far they stretch even the dwarves no longer remember.
Your maps of Eregion and the Misty Mountains are now both barely begun (2/6).
Exploration Location Found:
Nargil-Dûm: A manse in the wilderness, built by the elves in better days for their friend Thain, a son of Durin III and a prince of the Dwarves of Khazad-Dum. Overgrown and dilapidated, it stands still imposing in the wild, a memory of a finer time. The dwarf-hall's doors were sealed, and, as far as your explorers can tell, have not been opened in a thousand years.
Nelchrost: An outpost nestled in the spine of the Misty Mountains, Nelchrost was a great dwelling of the dwarves in the days before the making of the Ring. When war came to Eregion, it became a formidable redoubt against the power of the Shadow, from which the Dwarves and their friends struck against the Dark Lord. The fortress lies empty, but who knows what remains in the tunnels the dwarves delved below?
Your scouts have returned also from the White Mountains, bearing news of dread and unease. They have walked the Pukel-Paths, climbed the steps carved into the stone. They wind all through the mountains, but the one your scouts followed lead them to a dark and brooding mountain that rose high over all the others, a lonely white horn stark against the sky, covered in grim fir trees that seemed to sneer at them as they passed beneath. Men dwell on this pale mountain, amid these cold trees. They have left monstrous runes carved in the trees and foul statues upraised in the dirt. Your men caught no glimpses of them, but felt always the uneasy prickling of eyes in the darkness. Many of your scouts turned back here, but a handful of the bravest continued. They came to a great plateau overlooking a wide valley in which ran a river that shone white in the sun like snow.
Atop this plateau sat a dark fane, an altar built of stone and wood and worse things yet, and at the head of the altar was painted in no earthly paint a certain sign, a sigil that turned their stomachs, that forced even the bravest of their number to unease. It is a sign all men know, for they have seen it in their dreams, bathed always in black fire.
It was a single crimson eye, unearthly red and brighter than blood.
It means one thing alone: the Men of the White Mountains, the carvers of the Pukel-Paths, are Men of Darkness. They worship Sauron, as many do who were bound under his heel in Elder Days -- for when the world was young, all mankind was a slave to the Enemy, and many serve him still. They keep now to the shadows and the hills, fearing most likely the strength of Númenór. But what happens when this fear fades, and the voice of their cruel master urges them down from the mountains?
Diplomacy Opportunity Unlocked:
The Men of the White Mountains: The wildmen who dwell amid the snow-capped peaks of the white mountains to the east are worshipers of the Dark Lord Sauron. They have given their hearts and minds to Mordor, and act as it's servants in all things. But they are not orcs or wolves, but men still, and they might be parlayed with, could you find them and break word with them. Númenór, in her glory, has turned many who toiled in shadow from the whip of their master -- but it may be no easy task.
Defense Opportunities Unlocked:
The Eye in the Mountains: Deep inside the white mountains, servants of the Enemy wait and watch. Men, but free and fair no more. Their hearts are turned to cruel things, and their minds to wicked deeds. Drive them out. Drive them back.
Watch the Mountains: Eyes in the crags, voices in the dells, a shadow on the heights. The White Mountains hold a threat that at any moment could spill over all Enedwaith. Plant a guard, to watch the Pukel-Paths.
While you have been busy exploring the land and learning of your neighbors, Ûrîphêl has been building. Under her whiplike lash, your builders have spent the year since your arrival bringing her exacting vision to life. Wooden palisades become stone facades, and clustered dirt streets become organized grids of stone. The city is build in grids, expanding sections laid out in precise patterns. Ûrîphêl wastes no time in making use of the first slabs of stone from the quarry in the Angrenmarsh -- work such as this would take the Middle-men years, but now, a little over a year after your landing on the shores of the Isen, a city of stone flourishes at the mouth of the sea. Farmers and builders and woodsmen walk paved and pillared streets, and though it is no peer of anything on the Blessed Isle itself, Târ Nîlon stands like a beacon in the wilderness of Enedwaith.
But all beacons attract things from out of the darkness. Orcs have been seen about your land. They are fell creatures, and foul. Your men are few, but they are eager, and they are Númenórean. Your hunters crawl the riverbank, searching high and low for orc-sign. They find them, here and there. Filth in the forest, crude etchings on stone, wretched campsites made by no mortal men. Once they find the trail, it is easy enough to follow. They find the Orcs some distance from the southernmost edge of the Misty Mountains -- a band of thirteen, you are told. Your hunters are a dozen, but a dozen of the Tall Men would be fair match for fifty orcs. Though untested in battle, their arrows found orc-neck as fitting a target as deer, and what followed was violent, but short. They returned triumphant, orc-heads swinging from their waists.
One of the hunters in particular wins special acclaim from his fellows, a young man with a sharp eye and a calm head who returned with seven orc-skulls about his belt. You make a note to keep an eye on him.
Hero Event Successful! Opportunity Unlocked:
The Orc Hunter: Some men are good at hunting. Some men are very good at hunting. And others hunt a different sort of prey.
These few may have been slain, but you know well that where one orc is, there are many more close by. The orcs bear a strange brand upon their skull, burnt into their grisly flesh -- a strange rune in the orcish tongue. No doubt this rune is the sign of their tribe or clan, and will bear further investigation.
Your people have settled in well, but settlement, as you well know, brings idleness, and idle tongues are never still. Your people whisper of the news from Tharbad, and of the news of the Middle-Men and their petty-king. Some hold that even if the claims of the Middle-Men are true, well, to master them is not so wrong. It is the right and the duty of the Númenóreans to guide lesser men, is it not? Others argue that guidance, not mastery, must be our goal. We are the kings of men, not kings over men. Others argue for other positions still, stranger ones not often spoken on the Blessed Isle. Regardless, the issue has divided your people into factions, who argue bitterly for their positions in the drinking halls and the public squares. At the end of the day, however, the final decision falls to you, and your feeling on the matter is that your people are...
[] Kings over Men: You are the tall men. Yours is the Gift, and to rule is your right. Not all are so blessed, and it seems only right that these should bend their knees before you, who are the greatest of the race of men. This is how the King's Men carry themselves, in their great cities in the south, where they rule over numberless masses of lesser men, who build them their temples and towers tall. This is, you gather, a minority opinion among your people, though you are not sure who, exactly. Should you pick this option, you will be more domineering and aggressive towards the Middle-Men diplomatically, seeking to rule and gather tribute.
[] Kings of Men: The Tall Men were not given Middle-Earth. They are not rulers and conquerors and takers of tribute, but friends and teachers and guiding hands. Those who hold this stance believe that it is the duty and the forbearance of the Númenóreans to safeguard and protect the Middle-Men however possible, to raise them up and shelter them from harm until they may take their place in the sun, as the elves sheltered us in older days. This is how the Faithful carry themselves, in their cities such as Pelargir, where they marry the Middle-Men freely. This is a majority position among your people -- you can hardly help but hear them cheer for it in the streets. Should you pick this option, you will be more friendly to the Middle-Men diplomatically, seeking to form deals, educate, and peacefully vassalize.
[] Lords of the Sea: The Middle-Men? They are simple wood-folk. They fight bitterly and bloodily for mere parcels of land, and to rule them is more trouble than it is worth. This should be no interest of you or yours. You are the Sea-Kings, and your dominions are the seas. Leave the Middle-Men to their own doings and dooms, for you shall rule the waves. This is a minority position among your people -- you have heard very few argue for it, though maybe you have just missed them. Should you pick this option, you will largely ignore the Middle-Men diplomatically.
[] Men of the West: The Númenóreans were mortal, once, and their lives were short in the days before the Gift. Many have forgotten that, in their hubris. Once we bled and wept and crawled in the mud, and we were not noble teachers then, or mighty kings, or aloof lords, but men, who suffered as men must. So we are tall now, and our days long, and our eyes bright -- what changes this? Cut our skin, and we bleed as they bleed. You will not come to them as conquerors or masters, but as peers. This is a slim minority position among your people -- a great many of them support it. Should you pick this option, you will treat every group of Middle-Men you meet as peers and equals. The various Middle-Men groups you encounter will be granted entries in the Realms of Middle-Earth tab, and will be mechanically treated as distinct entities.
A note: The various choices here are supported by distinct groups among your people. Compare the votes, their portions in the majority, and their ideologies in order to figure out which groups stand to lose or benefit from the choices before voting. Politically scorned groups may cause trouble. Anger the Rommenans, for example, and the fishermen may strike.
[] Kings of Men: The Tall Men were not given Middle-Earth. They are not rulers and conquerors and takers of tribute, but friends and teachers and guiding hands. Those who hold this stance believe that it is the duty and the forbearance of the Númenóreans to safeguard and protect the Middle-Men however possible, to raise them up and shelter them from harm until they may take their place in the sun, as the elves sheltered us in older days. This is how the Faithful carry themselves, in their cities such as Pelargir, where they marry the Middle-Men freely. This is a majority position among your people -- you can hardly help but hear them cheer for it in the streets. Should you pick this option, you will be more friendly to the Middle-Men diplomatically, seeking to form deals, educate, and peacefully vassalize.
[] Lords of the Sea: The Middle-Men? They are simple wood-folk. They fight bitterly and bloodily for mere parcels of land, and to rule them is more trouble than it is worth. This should be no interest of you or yours. You are the Sea-Kings, and your dominions are the seas. Leave the Middle-Men to their own doings and dooms, for you shall rule the waves. This is a minority position among your people -- you have heard very few argue for it, though maybe you have just missed them. Should you pick this option, you will largely ignore the Middle-Men diplomatically.
[] Men of the West: The Númenóreans were mortal, once, and their lives were short in the days before the Gift. Many have forgotten that, in their hubris. Once we bled and wept and crawled in the mud, and we were not noble teachers then, or mighty kings, or aloof lords, but men, who suffered as men must. So we are tall now, and our days long, and our eyes bright -- what changes this? Cut our skin, and we bleed as they bleed. You will not come to them as conquerors or masters, but as peers. This is a slim minority position among your people -- a great many of them support it. Should you pick this option, you will treat every group of Middle-Men you meet as peers and equals. The various Middle-Men groups you encounter will be granted entries in the Realms of Middle-Earth tab, and will be mechanically treated as distinct entities.
A note: The various choices here are supported by distinct groups among your people. Compare the votes, their portions in the majority, and their ideologies in order to figure out which groups stand to lose or benefit from the choices before voting. Politically scorned groups may cause trouble. Anger the Rommenans, for example, and the fishermen may strike.
The heated debate has brought the idea of politics, so long slumbering, back to the forefront. The groups which form among your people do so along natural lines -- the builders and the soldiers and the shapers and the seamen, the farmers and the miners and the hunters. Each one wants different things, and each one may feel scorned should their views be ignored in future. This is not a new issue, of course. You have long known that once the dust settled on your colony, you would need a way to organize your people that every man and woman might have their voices heard. You decided upon...
[] Council of the Sea-Lord: You form a representative Council drawn from the most influential factions in the city, to advise you on the people's feelings towards your actions and to serve as capable functionaries. Once the Guilds begin to burrow their tendrils into this city, as they do all cities, they will certainly like this familiar system -- it is how Númenór is governed, though at some point along the way 'influential factions' came to mean 'The Guilds, and the Guilds alone'. Dealing with them would likely interfere somewhat with your ability to get things done, and the Council's power may grow with time. (Reduce the amount of vote options a turn to 8. Each turn, your advisors will inform you to a vague level what the people are most interested in seeing done. Your people will be only slightly disgruntled if you ignore their opinions. Councilors may attempt to increase the influence of their faction through...unsavory means.)
[] Hall of Speakers: Rather than an oligarchy of the most powerful, you separate the city into great divisions. Each division shall select from among themselves a Bêthan, a speaker who will represent his people's interests to the Sea-Lord, meeting in a great convocation called the Bêthzadan, the Hall of Speakers. This form of representation first originated in the densely populated cities of the Faithful, where with populations so large it was possible for individual voices to be lost in the fray. Here, every man has a voice through his Speaker. Dealing with them would probably interfere a fair amount with your ability to get things done, and the Hall's power may grow with time. (Reduce the amount of vote options a turn to 7. Each turn, your advisors will inform you to a somewhat accurate level what the people are most interested in seeing done. Your people will be fairly disgruntled if you ignore their opinions. You will have one Speaker for every two hundred people, and for every five Speakers you have, gain a permanent population growth bonus.)
[] Makâtha: This system originated in the soldier-colonies of the Southern jungles, where every man demanded a voice and every hand needed to be counted. Literally meaning 'With All', the Makâtha is just that -- a system of public representation based around loud debates in city squares, where any might stand on his shield and say his piece, and the strength of his position be judged by the cheering or booing of the crowd. Though often criticized for being time-consuming and vulnerable to sudden swings in opinion, there is truly no better way to know the will of your people. Dealing with them would probably interfere significantly with your ability to get things done, and the people's power may grow with time. Given such voice and opportunity, the brightest minds among your people might make themselves more easily known. (Reduce the amount of vote options a turn to 6. Each turn, the people will inform you exactly what they are most in favor of. Having gone to all this trouble, they will be very displeased if you ignore them outright. Gain a permanent +10 bonus to all Hero Event and Hero Opportunity rolls.)
[] The Sea-Lord: You are a Sea-Lord of the Land of the Star. None advise you, none control you, and none may force your hand. You decide what you do, and you alone -- though this means you must do everything. (The amount of vote options remains at 10. You will have no idea beyond whatever obvious rumors reach you what the people are in favor of (this is the current state of things). Your people will be incredibly displeased if you ignore their opinions, since you are the only one who hears them -- but they may love you more, since you are the only object for such passions. All political ramifications are tripled. Whenever you select yourself for an option, have one less vote next turn.)
[] Hall of Speakers: Rather than an oligarchy of the most powerful, you separate the city into great divisions. Each division shall select from among themselves a Bêthan, a speaker who will represent his people's interests to the Sea-Lord, meeting in a great convocation called the Bêthzadan, the Hall of Speakers. This form of representation first originated in the densely populated cities of the Faithful, where with populations so large it was possible for individual voices to be lost in the fray. Here, every man has a voice through his Speaker. Dealing with them would probably interfere a fair amount with your ability to get things done, and the Hall's power may grow with time. (Reduce the amount of vote options a turn to 7. Each turn, your advisors will inform you to a somewhat accurate level what the people are most interested in seeing done. Your people will be fairly disgruntled if you ignore their opinions. You will have one Speaker for every two hundred people, and for every five Speakers you have, gain a permanent population growth bonus.)
[] Makâtha: This system originated in the soldier-colonies of the Southern jungles, where every man demanded a voice and every hand needed to be counted. Literally meaning 'With All', the Makâtha is just that -- a system of public representation based around loud debates in city squares, where any might stand on his shield and say his piece, and the strength of his position be judged by the cheering or booing of the crowd. Though often criticized for being time-consuming and vulnerable to sudden swings in opinion, there is truly no better way to know the will of your people. Dealing with them would probably interfere significantly with your ability to get things done, and the people's power may grow with time. Given such voice and opportunity, the brightest minds among your people might make themselves more easily known. (Reduce the amount of vote options a turn to 6. Each turn, the people will inform you exactly what they are most in favor of. Having gone to all this trouble, they will be very displeased if you ignore them outright. Gain a permanent +10 bonus to all Hero Event and Hero Opportunity rolls.)
[] The Sea-Lord: You are a Sea-Lord of the Land of the Star. None advise you, none control you, and none may force your hand. You decide what you do, and you alone -- though this means you must do everything. (The amount of vote options remains at 10. You will have no idea beyond whatever obvious rumors reach you what the people are in favor of (this is the current state of things). Your people will be incredibly displeased if you ignore their opinions, since you are the only one who hears them -- but they may love you more, since you are the only object for such passions. All political ramifications are tripled. Whenever you select yourself for an option, have one less vote next turn.)
Pick Ten (10) options. You may personally assign yourself, Ûrîphêl, and Inzilbeth each to any votes you pick, making them personal options. As you have 3 heroes, you may make three votes personal options. Specify which character you want to send on which mission in the plan vote.
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.
[] Begin Construction Project: Ûrîphêl and the Shapers have many plans for unique buildings and expansion projects that could dot the city. Hear them out and pick one.
[] Begin Construction on the Harbor: Begin using your stores of Númenórean Iron to build a great harbor that will stand as a wonder of the continent. (Requires Shaper Hero, will take 10 turns/six years, whichever comes first)
[] 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. This helps if you have angered them recently, or plan to.
[] 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. This helps if you have angered them recently, or plan to.
[] 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. This helps if you have angered them recently, or plan to.
[] Encourage Immigration From Home: Now that you are more than a cluster of buildings by a riverside, you may write home to encourage immigration from the Blessed Isle proper. You will need decent amenities to encourage Island-born Númenóreans to come live in the city.
[] Encourage Immigration From The Southern Colonies: Encourage warlike southerners to make their way from the southern colonies. To entice the loyalist Southerners, you will need to be in good favor with the King's Men.
[] Encourage Immigration From The Eastern Colonies: You encourage the wise and well-read Faithful to make their way from the eastern colonies to dwell in your city. Your proximity to the Elf-realms makes this easier, but being known as an open Elf-Friend would help matters further.
[] Encourage Immigration From The Middle-Men: Let it be known wide and far that the doors of your city are open to any of the Men of the West who wish to dwell therin. The Middle-Men are unlearned, wild, and hold no love for Númenór, but they may still come in droves.
[-] ????: Unlock further immigration options through gameplay.
[] Begin Construction on the Harbor: Begin using your stores of Númenórean Iron to build a great harbor that will stand as a wonder of the continent. (Requires Shaper Hero, will take 10 turns/six years, whichever comes first)
[] 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. This helps if you have angered them recently, or plan to.
[] 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. This helps if you have angered them recently, or plan to.
[] 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. This helps if you have angered them recently, or plan to.
[] Encourage Immigration From Home: Now that you are more than a cluster of buildings by a riverside, you may write home to encourage immigration from the Blessed Isle proper. You will need decent amenities to encourage Island-born Númenóreans to come live in the city.
[] Encourage Immigration From The Southern Colonies: Encourage warlike southerners to make their way from the southern colonies. To entice the loyalist Southerners, you will need to be in good favor with the King's Men.
[] Encourage Immigration From The Eastern Colonies: You encourage the wise and well-read Faithful to make their way from the eastern colonies to dwell in your city. Your proximity to the Elf-realms makes this easier, but being known as an open Elf-Friend would help matters further.
[] Encourage Immigration From The Middle-Men: Let it be known wide and far that the doors of your city are open to any of the Men of the West who wish to dwell therin. The Middle-Men are unlearned, wild, and hold no love for Númenór, but they may still come in droves.
[-] ????: Unlock further immigration options through gameplay.
Defense: You are not alone in Middle-Earth, and Númenór the Blessed has many enemies. The defense of your fledgling colony is one of your foremost priorities.
[] 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.
[] Forge Arms: With basic forges complete, you may begin forging blades and weapons to arm your people. With no source of iron presently, you will have to use inferior bog iron -- but a sword is better than no sword.
[] The Eye in the Mountains: Deep inside the white mountains, servants of the Enemy wait and watch. Men, but free and fair no more. Their hearts are turned to cruel things, and their minds to wicked deeds. Drive them out. Drive them back. You do not know their number or their power, but what does it matter? You are Numenoreans, and they are not. They shall fall.
[] Watch the Mountains: Eyes in the crags, voices in the dells, a shadow on the heights. The White Mountains hold a threat that at any moment could spill over all Enedwaith. Plant a guard to watch the Pukel-Paths, and see who comes and who goes by them.
[] 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. (There are no orcs in Enedwaith at the moment...that you know of)
[] 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.
[] Forge Arms: With basic forges complete, you may begin forging blades and weapons to arm your people. With no source of iron presently, you will have to use inferior bog iron -- but a sword is better than no sword.
[] The Eye in the Mountains: Deep inside the white mountains, servants of the Enemy wait and watch. Men, but free and fair no more. Their hearts are turned to cruel things, and their minds to wicked deeds. Drive them out. Drive them back. You do not know their number or their power, but what does it matter? You are Numenoreans, and they are not. They shall fall.
[] Watch the Mountains: Eyes in the crags, voices in the dells, a shadow on the heights. The White Mountains hold a threat that at any moment could spill over all Enedwaith. Plant a guard to watch the Pukel-Paths, and see who comes and who goes by them.
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. With a harbor now built, you may send emissaries by ship, significantly reducing travel time. However, lacking supplies, they cannot travel far. One diplomatic option unlocked.
The Walls of Tharbad: Tharbad has stood a thousand years, and it's walls once repelled the forces of the dark lord at the ford of the Gwathlo. Those same walls lie now in ruin, but might be raised again given time and effort. The master of Tharbad has promised great things should his walls be restored to the glory of his fathers' time, and endless friendship besides. (Sends Shapers. All building projects delayed by one turn)
[] 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.
The Men of the White Mountains: The wildmen who dwell amid the snow-capped peaks of the white mountains to the east are worshipers of the Dark Lord Sauron. They have given their hearts and minds to Mordor, and act as it's servants in all things. But they are not orcs or wolves, but men still, and they might be parlayed with, could you find them and break word with them. Númenór, in her glory, has turned many who toiled in shadow from the whip of their master -- but it may be no easy task. Still, you send an envoy to break words with them.
[] 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.
[] 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.
[] Send An Envoy to Pelargir: Far to the southeast lies Pelargir, silver city of the ships. A dwelling of the Faithful, it is among the greatest of all Numenor's colonies. Send a ship here and seek fair words with the city of the swan. (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)
The Tyrant in the Tower: The chieftain of the Middle-Men spins a tale of woe and horror. He speaks of tribes butchered and enslaved, of the lands north and south of the River Gwathlo bent in servitude to the fortress on the ford, to the Tyrant in the Tower. It is, to hear them tell it, a tyranny of centuries, one which has nearly reached it's grim conclusion. The Enedwaithrim of Brun Gledd throw themselves at your feet for aid. They, they claim, are the last of their people who breathe free air. Some among your advisors insist that the truth of this matter must be investigated, while others dismiss it as the ravings of Middle-Men -- or, worse yet, a lie of the Enemy. You must visit Brun Gledd, and learn the truth of it yourself. (Requires Imrazor)
-[] Alternate: Do not visit the Middle-Men, but travel to Tharbad instead to question them on the Middle-Men's claims. (Requires Imrazor)
[] 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.
The Men of the White Mountains: The wildmen who dwell amid the snow-capped peaks of the white mountains to the east are worshipers of the Dark Lord Sauron. They have given their hearts and minds to Mordor, and act as it's servants in all things. But they are not orcs or wolves, but men still, and they might be parlayed with, could you find them and break word with them. Númenór, in her glory, has turned many who toiled in shadow from the whip of their master -- but it may be no easy task. Still, you send an envoy to break words with them.
[] 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.
[] 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.
[] Send An Envoy to Pelargir: Far to the southeast lies Pelargir, silver city of the ships. A dwelling of the Faithful, it is among the greatest of all Numenor's colonies. Send a ship here and seek fair words with the city of the swan. (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)
The Tyrant in the Tower: The chieftain of the Middle-Men spins a tale of woe and horror. He speaks of tribes butchered and enslaved, of the lands north and south of the River Gwathlo bent in servitude to the fortress on the ford, to the Tyrant in the Tower. It is, to hear them tell it, a tyranny of centuries, one which has nearly reached it's grim conclusion. The Enedwaithrim of Brun Gledd throw themselves at your feet for aid. They, they claim, are the last of their people who breathe free air. Some among your advisors insist that the truth of this matter must be investigated, while others dismiss it as the ravings of Middle-Men -- or, worse yet, a lie of the Enemy. You must visit Brun Gledd, and learn the truth of it yourself. (Requires Imrazor)
-[] Alternate: Do not visit the Middle-Men, but travel to Tharbad instead to question them on the Middle-Men's claims. (Requires Imrazor)
Exploration: These are vast lands, and wild. Venture into them, and discover things long forgotten. You may 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 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 further. (2/6)
[] 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 further. (2/6)
[] The Gwathlo: You have made contact with the master of the Gwathlo, and the ford is held, as it has been for ten thousand lifetimes of the small men, by Númenór. If you so wish it, your men may pass beyond the ford, and see how Minhiriath has changed in ten centuries. The men of Tharbad speak of myraid towns and villages, and of civilizations flourishing in the wild. Venture past the Greyflood, and see what has become of these lands.
[] Nargil-Dûm: A manse in the wilderness, built by the elves in better days for their friend Thain, a son of Durin III and a prince of the Dwarves of Khazad-Dum. Overgrown and dilapidated, it stands still imposing in the wild, a memory of a finer time. The dwarf-hall's doors were sealed, and, as far as your explorers can tell, have not been opened in a thousand years. (Hero Required)
[] Nelchrost: An outpost nestled in the spine of the Misty Mountains, Nelchrost was a great dwelling of the dwarves in the days before the making of the Ring. When war came to Eregion, it became a formidable redoubt against the power of the Shadow, from which the Dwarves and their friends struck against the Dark Lord. The fortress lies empty, but who knows what remains in the tunnels the dwarves delved below? (Hero Required)
[] 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 further. (2/6)
[] 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 further. (2/6)
[] The Gwathlo: You have made contact with the master of the Gwathlo, and the ford is held, as it has been for ten thousand lifetimes of the small men, by Númenór. If you so wish it, your men may pass beyond the ford, and see how Minhiriath has changed in ten centuries. The men of Tharbad speak of myraid towns and villages, and of civilizations flourishing in the wild. Venture past the Greyflood, and see what has become of these lands.
[] Nargil-Dûm: A manse in the wilderness, built by the elves in better days for their friend Thain, a son of Durin III and a prince of the Dwarves of Khazad-Dum. Overgrown and dilapidated, it stands still imposing in the wild, a memory of a finer time. The dwarf-hall's doors were sealed, and, as far as your explorers can tell, have not been opened in a thousand years. (Hero Required)
[] Nelchrost: An outpost nestled in the spine of the Misty Mountains, Nelchrost was a great dwelling of the dwarves in the days before the making of the Ring. When war came to Eregion, it became a formidable redoubt against the power of the Shadow, from which the Dwarves and their friends struck against the Dark Lord. The fortress lies empty, but who knows what remains in the tunnels the dwarves delved below? (Hero Required)
Opportunity: There are a variety of miscellaneous opportunities available to you which could benefit either yourself or the colony.
[] Investigate the Branded Orcs: You begin to dig into the matter of where these orcs came from, and what, exactly, the strange brand on their head means.
[] 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.
[] Invite Survey: A year on from your colony's establishment, you are now stable enough to invite the Shapers to send a Guild inspector to appraise your progress. If the inspector is happy with what they find, they may recommend an increase in your funding, or a lessening of your debt -- or greater rewards yet. However, he may also demand certain changes to better suit the Guild's interests. Every turn you don't summon a Guild inspector, they will grow angrier -- take care you do not force them to send one of their own accord, as he will not be very charitable.
The Orc Hunter: Some men are good at hunting. Some men are very good at hunting. And others hunt a different sort of prey. Perhaps this one is ready for greater responsibility. Hero opportunities are unlocked by successful Hero Events, and may be failed. If successful, they give a new hero character to send on votes and impact the story.
[] 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.
[] Invite Survey: A year on from your colony's establishment, you are now stable enough to invite the Shapers to send a Guild inspector to appraise your progress. If the inspector is happy with what they find, they may recommend an increase in your funding, or a lessening of your debt -- or greater rewards yet. However, he may also demand certain changes to better suit the Guild's interests. Every turn you don't summon a Guild inspector, they will grow angrier -- take care you do not force them to send one of their own accord, as he will not be very charitable.
The Orc Hunter: Some men are good at hunting. Some men are very good at hunting. And others hunt a different sort of prey. Perhaps this one is ready for greater responsibility. Hero opportunities are unlocked by successful Hero Events, and may be failed. If successful, they give a new hero character to send on votes and impact the story.
QM ANNOUNCEMENT: No votes not in plan form will be accepted. This is a massive post with important votes, so there Is a twenty-four hour moratorium before voting can begin. No votes before this time will be accepted.
Reaction posts and Omakes are rewarded.
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Strange9
hdellaverson@gmail.com
- Location
- Los Angeles, CA
Quick question before I actually go ahead and vote:
Does the decreased number of actions for various forms of government represent decreased general activity, or just less personal power to make choices (which is to say for options like Makatha, is public at large "taking actions" under the hood?
Does the decreased number of actions for various forms of government represent decreased general activity, or just less personal power to make choices (which is to say for options like Makatha, is public at large "taking actions" under the hood?
I'm tempted to think that neither the men of Tharbad or the middle men are in the wrong here. From what we have sewn the numenorians of Tharbad walk proud and openly, not like slavers in the night.
@Telamon is it possible to investigate if the servants of shadow are leading these two sides against each other. Or is it clear that such things are happening and it's only a matter of choosing a side?
@Telamon is it possible to investigate if the servants of shadow are leading these two sides against each other. Or is it clear that such things are happening and it's only a matter of choosing a side?
Strange9
hdellaverson@gmail.com
- Location
- Los Angeles, CA
As another aside, this... doesn't make sense. If the Middle Men are competent enough to not have to worry at all about Orcs, how on Middle Earth did they kill 13 Numenoreans with thousands of Men? Particularly if the normal "exchange rate" between Numenoreans and Orcs looks like:
My naive hypothesis is that the men of Tharbad have been conscripting/press-ganging the middle men as soldiers.
Edit: upon re-read, they're definitely using them as farmers (as stated), and I still think it likely they've elevated some minority to a higher position (as soldiers). The 13 Numenoreans thing makes much more sense if that meant 13 *officers* lost.
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Yeah that's quite possible. And it's typical of colonizing powers to not look too deeply into how much harm they are causing
But to be fair to the middle men, 40 metre sheer stone walls will put a pretty sharp dent in any KD ratio. The middle men attacked them after all.
Edit - and by attacked them. Maybe retaliated
Last edited:
Strange9
hdellaverson@gmail.com
- Location
- Los Angeles, CA
On the attack, sure! But how would the Middle Men have been broken as a polity and people by losing an offensive siege? With walls that high, I'd be shocked at their ability to mount any sort of attack at all, which leaves them... pottering outside the walls? Moreover, even if they did try to force the walls or what have you, most (particularly ancient) armies will break at like a tenth of the army lost. That might lead to a king being deposed, but not the sort of behavior we see in the second half of the update. I think we ought to investigate, esp insofar as I'm 99% certain there's info Tharbad isn't giving us.
- Location
- Texas
You personally will be doing things, and with the various governments will have less time to do them personally, but the more open your government is, the more things may be offloaded into others in the future. TL;DR: It evens out, especially with increased hero generation for Makatha — Heroes may take actions even when the action count doesn't allow for it — I.E, 3 votes and 5 heroes, that's still five actions.
That is...mostly figurative language, but keep in mind that the Middle Men, according to Hazraban, attacked Tharbad, which, dilapidated though it may be, is a very formidable fortress. The men of Tharbad also have Númenorean weapons and armor, while the Middle Men have...considerably less impressive stuff.
The Enedwaithrim also know how to deal with orcs on their turf, which is considerably different from attacking a stronger and more heavily fortified enemy on theirs. Lastly, orcs are weaker than all men — on average shorter than regular men by a good foot and less intelligent by far, they are most deadly in numbers.