The Dunedain of the North ~ Annals of a Family Line

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Halasian
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The Dunedain of the North ~ Annals of a Family Line

Postby Halasian » Sun Aug 22, 2010 1:58 am

~ History of the Halvarís Family Line ~

(As compiled by Gilrénna in the second century of the Fourth age of Middle Earth)

"Here is the family history of Hanasían and of the line of Halvarís as known to date. Records after the sack of Arthedain in TA 1974 are few, and the records of the line before this have for the most part been lost. But for a journal of Elendur, a Captain of the Eastern Watch who became a close friend of one of his seconds, Silvanís. In it were writings of not only he, but were some parchments written of Silvanís by an unknown author who was obviously close to him, some of Silvanis’s own writing, and some accounts of Ladies Rían and Ráinna of House Hollinstad of the Dúnedain.

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Of Silvanís

Silvanís was a Dúnedain soldier of the Eastern Watch under King Araphant, and though the name is not spoken of, is the earliest known male ascendant. Born in TA 1918, he entered the service of the King in TA 1939. In TA 1940 he was assigned, as was most of the young soldiers of the day, to the army of the Eastern Watch and spent much time in the Weather hills. Those days were darkening evermore, and the hill men of Rhûadur were becoming evermore cunning. Formerly a part of Arnor, Rhûadur had long ago fallen under the shadow of Carn Dûm, and the men were now willing captains of the Witch-King. Their orc and warg raids were becoming more and more frequent, though all were driven back. Still, the service that Silvanís gave to his King was long and hard.

Before Silvanís had his assignment, he had met a daughter of Hollinstad, Captain of the King Araphant's Guard. Her name was Rían and she was a fair beauty. It was Midsummer’s Eve and the Ceremony of Captains had commenced in the evening. Also it served as celebration of Prince Arvedui's marriage to Princess Fíriel, the daughter of King Ondoher of Gondor. At the Celebration of Captains, newly promoted Captains accepted their promotions from the King, and the newly promoted seconds accepted their promotions from the Prince. There was much revelry afterward with a banquet and ball.

Silvanís did not draw favor from Hollinstad. In fact, the whole celebration was a sour taste to him. For Rían, his elder daughter was very much the sparkle in the young Prince Arvedui's eye. But when the Kings Araphant and Ondoher met in Halifirien, it was agreed that their lines needed binding for the sake of all the Dúnedain. It was agreed that Ondoher's daughter Fíriel would wed Araphant's son Arvedui and she would become princess of Arthedain. And so ended Hollinstad's prospect that his daughter Rían would become the princess of Arthedain.

He watched as Silvanís and Rían met at the banquet. A lowly second commander of the Eastern Watch is what he saw... nothing more than a Ranger (Rangers during the time of the Kings were a band of dark, rough and mysterious soldiers, fully loyal to the King. Their watch was that of the North Downs and the steppes between there and the mountains to the east. They would make raids into the dangerous country of the Ettenmoors and would at times be sent on 'special assignment' by the King, bypassing the command and the Kings Guard). Though Silvanís and Rían acted like they only first met at the banquet table (they sat across from each other, they had actually met earlier in the day and Hollinstad knew it. Silvanís passing by on the street saw Rían at a seamstress's house fitting a new off-white silken gown. He waited at a nearby armory looking at the weaponry, and stepped out in front of her as she passed. He offered to escort her home, and she agreed. But there across the way from the seamstress's house, in a tavern beer-garden was Kallam, a young officer of the Kings Guard.

Kallam was close to Prince Arvedui for they were the same age and grew up in the Kings house. Though he had assumed Rían to be the desire of his friend Arvedui and he respected that. But with the betrothal and marriage of Prince Arvedui to Fíriel, the Princess of Gondor, all that changed. He saw his friend grow distant to Rían out of necessity. Rían, for her part, fancied the Prince, and accepted Kallam as friend, but little desire did she have for him as husband. Yet he sat beside her at the banquet table.

That afternoon when Silvanís and Rían arrived at the palace, Hollinstad was waiting there, looking darkly at the young soldier who had accompanied his daughter. Hollinstad would very much like to see his daughter wed Kallam, for he was of good lineage whose ancestors served as Kings Guardsman like his, and it would be proper. His view of Silvanís and those of his standing, though of high Dúnedain blood, were not of the Palace Guard, let alone the King's Guardsmen.

Silvanís, after accepting his assignment, held to the shadows and the kegs of ale, and watched the people having fun. But for a few grim faces of elder guardsmen, most were caught up in the night. Silvanís found his arm taken by a beautiful Rían and they were soon all about the dance area. Long was their night of joy, but as the hour grew late and after the King retired, Rían's father confronted Silvanís. It didn't go well and Silvanís soon left. Leaving the city's confines to find a place in the tall grass to watch the stars. There he pondered the lovely Rían before he dozed for a time when he awoke to a dream come true in the form of a kiss from Rían...

The sunrise found them bound together in the morning dew, and Silvanís awoke suddenly knowing he had to report. He parted with Rían with a long kiss, and she made for the palace in the shadowy mists of the morning. Silvanís barely made it to roll call, and their commander, Elendur, gave the young regiment their orders. They would leave in two hours for the Weather hills.

Rían wrapped herself in her cloak, and made her way home. Seemingly managing to get in and to her room without waking or being seen. But her younger sister Ráinna, who was 9, saw her enter her room. Ráinna entered Rían’s room and scared her. Rían jumped over and shut the door quickly, signaling to Ráinna to keep quiet. Their sisterly discussion of whispers took only a short few moments, and Rían knew that to buy Ráinna’s silence, it would cost dear. This Ráinna would keep to herself until it would become useful, and she left the room, shutting it a little harder than the silent latch Rían would have preferred. Rían was soon asleep in blissful dream, with thoughts of waking to seek out Silvanís dancing in her mind. Her disappointment and sadness would wait several more hours.

Silvanís managed to gather his belongings and horse, and on his way back to report to muster, he left a note with the seamstress for Rían.

Silvanís and Rían would not see each other again for a long long time....

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Of Rían


When a sickness took hold of Rían a few weeks later, her heart was recovering from being shattered by Silvanís’s leaving. She wrote some letters to Silvanís in secret, but she never knew if he got them. And she never received a letter from him…. not even the one he left with the seamstress.

For Kallam had seen Silvanís go into the seamstress's house for that moment and he paid her a visit shortly after. By guile, he convinced her that he would deliver the letter to Rían at the Kings palace for he was going to report for duty. In his heart he loved Rían, and her attention given to Silvanís the night before at the ball had bothered him. But after Silvanís and Hollinstad spoke and Silvanís left, Kallam stepped to his side. He then left to follow Silvanís, and saw he went to a field to be alone. He returned to the ball, and reported to Hollinstad, and then politely asked the despairing Rían to dance. Being a friend, she danced for a while, and then excused herself to retire. Kallam escorted her back to the palace and bade her goodnight before returning to the ball. It was then he proclaimed to the remaining guests, and Prince Arvedui the betrothal of his daughter Rían to Kallam of the Kings Guard. She would be informed in the morning after she had a full nights rest. Much applause was had and much ale was drank by those who remained. And by the third hour of the morning it finally grew quiet.

Kallam hesitated in his inebriation by the door of Rían, for he wished to see her. But he would not, besides an equally inebriated Hollinstad was coming. Together they opened her door, but she was laying quietly in the dark and they would let her sleep. If they had been sober they would have easily seen that her bed was stuffed with extra blankets and clothes. The late hours of morning would come soon enough and so would the time of telling Rían of her betrothal.

Kallam went to sleep for a time, being awoken by a faint sound. He left his quarter at the end of the hall where many of the guard slept, and stepped out in the hall. Young Ráinna was standing there in her night shift rubbing her eyes. Kallam instructed her to return to her bed for the sun was just now rising. She did reluctantly, but her looking at Rían’s door drew Kallam’s curiosity. He tapped on her door, and after a pause, a sleepy response was heard. He opened the door and the morning light revealed a bedraggled Rían with her bedcovers clasped to her neck as she half sat up. She had jumped under her covers with her dew-dampened ball dress still on. The dew and the grass ruined it, and if the light would have been brighter, a stray piece of grass may have been seen in her hair. But satisfied she was safe and wanting to sleep more, he went to the kitchen for water and found Hollinstad there.

Hollinstad was in a serious mind and looked as though the short hours of sleep and the long night of revelry had little effect on him. He signed the day’s orders and had his messengers take them to be delivered. He knew that the regiment that Silvanís was assigned was to leave in three days time. But he signed an emergency order to have them leave this day. He would not have Silvanís seeing his daughter and causing her grief.
She was to marry Kallam.
He gave the regimental order for Commander Elendûr to Kallam to deliver. Kallam acknowledged him, and though delivering messages was well below his rank, he knew the importance of this one to his future.

Delivering it to Elendûr and hearing his bitching, he was going to have morning roll call in about a half hour. He would have to give his men to be ready to ride in two hours. Kallam smiled as he left, and on his way back, he detoured to the tavern in town. There he had one shot of some distilled whiskey to kill his headache, and spent some time with his favorite barmaid who was readying the place for the coming day. He would have to stop seeing her now that he was betrothed, and he was readying to leave to get back to the palace. But he saw Silvanís with his horse all ready for journey, and he stopped with a parchment in hand at the seamstress. He knew what it was, and he would not have his communicating with his betrothed. He went to the seamstress after Silvanís left and said he would deliver it to Rían as he was going back to the Palace. On his way back, he visited the blacksmith and fed his fire with the parchment.


The day began late for Rían as she arose near noon. She found her mother and father on the balcony in the high sun, and they told her of her betrothal. She bolted from the room to the sound of a snickering Ráinna inside the balcony door and went in search of Silvanís.
A soldier informed her that his regiment had left hours ago. Rían was devastated and knew that her betrothal was binding, sworn before the Prince by her father. Though she did not admit it to herself, she felt Silvanís took advantage of her for surely he knew he would be leaving the next day? Her mind was filled with confusing thoughts and shattered dreams, not knowing that Silvanís’s regiment leaving that day was arranged by her father.


So saddened days followed for Rían, and she would not leave her room much. Kallam worried much about her, and would keep watch and tend to her. Slowly she would begin to warm toward his kindness, and she began to look at him and see his love for her. She tried to get past seeing him as Prince Arvedui’s best friend and they being friends in childhood, and though she would still think of Silvanís and Midsummer’s Eve, they were evermore fading into the shadows of her mind.

Ere three weeks passed, and Rían’s stomach was queasy. She arose in the darkness of the morn and went to the palace balcony. The cool night air caressed her skin and shift, and she closed her eyes. Her stomach eased some, but she was coming to the realization that she was with child. It would be scandalous, and Rían knew her betrothal to Kallam would be ended if he requested it. But it would be still many days before she would know for sure, Yet she knew, as if the life that had begun growing inside her spoke to her. The quiet of the air helped speed her thoughts...
Taken and abandoned in a day by a soldier…
Embroiled in the center of royal politics and intrigue…
Betrothed to a man she liked and was a dear friend, but she did not love…
Knowing that Kallam loved her dearly…
Knowing the feeling she had with her time with Silvanís…
Rían’s mind thought of him much then, and she even considered some schemes of her own. But before she could thing further, two arms snaked around her midriff, followed by a nuzzle in her hair and a kiss on her neck.

Kallam had found her, and feeling his touch sent her mind flying. She in that moment resigned herself to a hastily made plan a few moments old. She leaned back into Kallam and turned in his arms. He was her betrothed, and she kissed him with passion…

Kallam had to be in his quarters by the seventh hour. He had only left because he could not sleep. Now he was well worn out. Managing to slip out and down the hall seemingly unseen, He made it the Guards quarters. Of course Ráinna watched in hiding as he left Rían’s room and slipped in the Guards quarters, but Kallam didn’t know it. Ráinna went and entered Rían’s room, and jumped on her messy bed. The price of silence had gone up.
The morning rise was a hard one for the tired Kallam, and his fellow guards gave him a bit of a chuckle. It was common knowledge among the guard that one of their numbers would slip out at times, so it didn’t seem odd that Kallam had done so.

Rían awoke from a deep sleep, with only her worry that her offering to Ráinna would hold her silence. Upon arising she was happy and alight and seemed to dance about the house. Hollinstad and Elrenna smiled at her, and wondered about the sudden change. Rían wished to wed Kallam as soon as possible, for she knew it would happen at the weeks end on Kallam’s birthday. She would wed him, and she would bear him a child.


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Of the Children of Rían


The baby Halvarís was born to Rían in the evening of the first day of Víressë of the year 1941 of the third age. Kallam had just barely arrived from his duty in Gondor to hear the wail of the newborn son. Halvarís was the firstborn of Kallam though some said he was born early. But he was healthy and fully grown newborn, and it was rumored among the elder womens gossip that Kallam had taken Rían before their marriage. No thought or account was given to the Celebration of Captains ceremony and banquet of Midsummer's Eve the year before. Lady Rían's interest and time early on at the ball with a young lieutenent commander named Silvanís was not reckoned with, for he had left that banquet after a very public confrontation with Hollinstad, Rían's father, who had expressed his desire for his eldest daughter to accompany the Captain of the King's Guard, Kallam. Rían had argued with her father, and wished to leave with Silvanís, but adhered to her father's wishes so as not to further embarrass him further. She remained at the banquet and ceremony in the company of Kallam for the remainder of the evening until King Araphant & Prince Arvedui summoned Hollinstadt and Kallam to a private chamber to discuss that which Kallam was sent to Gondor for. Rían took leave of Kallam and her father, saying she was tired and was returning to her chambers for the night. Nobody but her sister Ráinna knew that Rían had slipped away later that Midsummer's Eve, for she had awakened to her returning in the early morning hours.

In the fall of 1942 Rían bore Rénnia, firstborn daughter, and in the fall of 1947 their second daughter, Kéllia was born. It was not until the year of 1956 did Rían give birth to Sirionna, their third daughter. Kallam loved his wife and children greatly, and for her part she loved her husband and daughters to a degree. Yet there was a distance between Rían and her daughters, but a sparkle in her eye could seemingly be noticed when she would look upon Halvarís. Her eyes would hold both a deep longing and a deep sadness amonst the love they poured upon him. It was the only outward sign Rían ever gave differently to Halvarís than the other children. To all other eyes he was Kallam's son, and Rían would hope to die with the secret inside her.... the knowledge that Halvarís was Silvanís's son!

Kallam would always favor Halvarís, his firstborn and only son. Halvarís grew up his father's son, but he would always take time each day to sit and talk with his mother and sisters. He was well learned in lore and elven scripts, but became well skilled in battle tactics using sword and knife. He would be a Guardsman to the King like his father. While Rían was with Sirionna in the weeks before her birth, a dream came to her that spoke of dark days and terror. It was a jumble of scenes in her head, and it ended with a vision of a woman strange coming to her. Almost all she knew was gone, but this woman was with child. It then faded to two soldiers tall and grim in battle, then blood and ice. The first soldier fell and the blood was his. The second did not fall, but he sank out of sight in a field of ice. Rían awoke in a chill, and the maidens tending her wrapped her on blankets and calmed her. Shaken, Rían slowed her breathing, Halvarís and Kallam came into her room in concern, and Rían looked deep into each of their eyes. She could not say what she saw as the knowledge of the visions quickly faded deep into her mind, but for some reason Rían knew that the line of Silvanís would endure while the line of Kallam would not.

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(Comment by Gilrénna: The following account was written by Rían, mother of Halvarís sometime in the last years of her life. She had translated the accounting of Sían, wife of Halvarís and mother of Halvarís II, and also wrote accounts of this time as told by the sons of Arvedui)


~ Of Halvarís and Sian, daughter of the Chief of the Lossoth ~

It was the days of winter when the Witch-king of Angmar did come forth from Carn Dûm and contend with King Arvedui of Arthedain. The people of Arnor were never many, and the wars and sickness had eaten away at them, til one winter, the winter of 1974 of the Third Age of Middle Earth, the Witch-king attacked and pushed back our beleaguered army of the Eastern Watch and attacked the city of Fornost where we had lived. Though the Eastern Watch was decimated it bought precious time for most to flee. I fled with my sister Ráinna in Queen Fíriel's party, taking little with us.

Long was this battle for the city, but King Arvedui and his men were forced to retreat. He and his guardsmen fought a tough rearguard so the people could reach safety in the west. The sons of Arvedui rode about gathering all that were able to fight, and made sure we got away safe before rejoining their father. But they would never again find him. Instead they met a marauding vanguard of Warg riders, and slaying many and forcing them to retreat, they were not strong enough to pursue them. So they guarded the refugees as they made their way west to the Elven lands of Mithlond.

King Arvedui and his men were forced well north into the Ered Luin and the ancient dwarf caves there. With no food or winter clothing, and little provision, they nearly froze to death. So King Arvedui and his guard in their desperation sought help from an encampment of the Snowmen of Forochel, the Lossoth.

Now Sorel was the eldest son of the Fohel, Chief of the Lossoth Foro Clan, and was the leader of the south camp. He would not offer any help, food or otherwise, to King Arvedui and his men, for they were uneasy with the foes of the Witch-king of Angmar and did not want to anger his cold breath.

But as the King pleaded for help from the unrelenting Sorel, a woman, short and petite, with dark eyes as coal and long dark hair flowing out from her fur cloak, walked up to Sorel. For she was Sían his sister, second eldest of the Chief's kin. Her curiosity of King Arvedui and his men was stirred. As she looked at the King & his men, she saw one guardsman, Halvarís, who stood at the right end of the line. As she gazed into his bright blue eyes, she became frozen both in movement and in thought. And Halvarís too looked into her dark, glowing eyes and was smitten, forgetting for a time the sorrows of these dark times. As the tall young guardsman gazed into the beautiful dark eyes of Sían it seemed to the King and the other Guardsmen that a cloud was lifted from him even though he was starved and weary, and sick also with worry about the fate of his younger sisters and parents. For they were in the retreat from Fornost, and he knew not what had become of them. Kallam was not seen again after the skirmishes in the Twilight Hills, and Rían he only heard left with the Queen. But now the sight of one appearing so beautiful to him as Sían seemed to heal him at that moment in some way.

But Sorel still would not help the King and his Guardsmen and demanded they leave their camp. Sían was shaken by her brother’s loud voice and scolded him for having no mercy or pity on the tired, hungry men. She then agreed with King Arvedui to give them some fish they had caught through holes in the sea ice, and to send a messenger to summon their father, Chief Fohel.

Sorel was angered mightily by his sister's boldness and ready willingness to accept the strangers, of her usurping his leadership at the camp, and especially of her eyeing the strange man so. He struck her hard with the back of his hand with such force that she fell backwards in the snow. Halvarís quickly drew his sword, and some of the other guards near him did likewise.

But King Arvedui shouted to them,

"Men, sheath your swords, for do we treat as enemies ones who would feed us?"

As he said these words he stared coldly at Sorel, who, being terrified at the sight of the mighty blades of war, bowed in submission and moved away from the King & his men. Sían, recovering from the blow, was helped up gently by the hand of Halvarís, and long they stared into each other’s eyes before she turned to the King and invited them to share their food.

The messenger came to the north camp and before long, Chief Fohel and his two younger sons, Sachel, and Syon, came to see the strange men who had appeared in the south camp. The Chief took council with the King, and agreed to help the King ere the cold arm of Angmar receded, but he would not let the King & his men stay in their encampment. Maybe it was partially out of fear of angering the Witch-King, and partially to appease his sons. Instead Chief Fohel called for his people that were skilled in building snow huts and sent extra fishermen out for more food.

Soon, King Arvedui & his men were set in an encampment of their own along the shore of the Bay of Forochel, and a fire was kindled using flint they found in the old dwarf cave, and from clothing, driftwood and animal fat given to them by the Lossoth.

Though the Chief forbade the King and his men from entering their camp, he did not forbid any of his people from mingling with the King's men in the King’s camp. Chief Fohel allowed this for he desired to learn knowledge from the Dúnedain, and those of his people who were of a mind like Sían’s did so freely, and learned much. In this, the Chief’s council was divided between his three sons and his one daughter. Sorel wanted to abandon the King & his men saying,

"Why do we feed these men, who have nothing we value? Surely they are the enemy of the Witch-King, and we only bring his anger down upon us by helping them."

The other two sons agreed with him, with Syon speaking angrily,

"They are trouble, already bringing colder winds from the north, for there is yet no sign of thaw or no sign of the strangers leaving.... for this we will suffer".

But Sían, who was deemed wise by her people and favored by her father, spoke against her brothers,

"Though this winter is long and the winds of the north cold, we go with plenty, as fishing and trapping has been good, and has it not been spoken from the days of our forefathers that the kingdom of the south protected us much from the sickness of far off lands? We owe these people, for their existence alone has kept the wrath of the Witch-King from us, and for their sacrifice, we have given them nothing, yet they have always left us in peace."

Then Sorel breaks in saying,

"You, Sian would not be so eager to help them if you did not have eyes for the one."

Before Sian could reply, the Chief speaks up,

"Is this true? Sian, you keep this from me?"

"Yes father." she whispered, "I did not want to raise the anger Sorel has for the King & his men in you, so I spoke not."

With this, the chief holds his head in his hands and says,

"I must think, please leave me all."


As February waned and March came, Chief Fohel would sit up on a small hill, watching his daughter and the tall stranger together in the King's camp. Soon, the Chief himself came to the King’s camp, and at length would counsel with the King on various matters, but mainly about the love shown between Halvarís and Sían. It was during one of these meetings that Halvarís asked for Sían's hand in marriage, though they only met a little over a fortnight before. Her heart rejoiced in this, and he was glad and unburdened.

Long they sat together that day, and the sun broke through the clouds of snow and fog. The brightness of the sun on the snow outside the King’s snow hut aroused both the King and the Chief, as the sun has not been seen by either of them since before the attack of the Witch-king. They emerged from the hut, flurries of snow were still being blown in the breeze, and wisps of fog lingered, but where Halvarís and Sian sat, the sun shone bright.

As the sunbeam widened around them a cheer started rising from the around the camp from mainly the Lossoth that were there, but soon the King’s men joined in.

“Hail Halvarís and Sían! For their love broke the grip of the Witch-King!”

And there was much joy as the sun chased away the remnants of cloud and falling snow. The sun’s warmth felt good and the gathered ice began to melt, and there was much happiness among all peoples there. However, watching from the small hill was Sorel and his brother Syon, and they were angered at what they saw, and they went back to the main camp of the Lossoth and told lies and stirred trouble among the people who would not go to the Kings camp. For most of those who liked King Arvedui and his men were in the King’s camp on that day, and there was few to speak against the brothers.

The sun also failed to break through the fog over the camp of the Lossoth for the dark hearts of the brothers held sway. In this way the smoldering dissention among the Lossoth was kindled.


Now the King and the Chief approached Halvarís and Sían where they sat, and they stood and bowed before the King and Chief. And Halvarís asked King Arvedui and Chief Fohel for permission to marry Sían. The Chief spoke first,

“Sian, my daughter, has appeared as a spring flower in bloom, and her eyes are alight as burning coal. All time before this has not been so. Who am I to extinguish her flame by denial of this? Yet I see only darkness in their path ere too short”

And King Arvedui also spoke,

“It is not our doom to remain here, and ere the ice breaks in the sun in the days ahead. A ship of Cirdan awaits afar and has come to bear us back south to our kin. Will you Halvarís then wish to stay here?”

“Nay Master.”[/i] replied Halvarís, “For I am sworn to you, and I will not take leave of you in time of war, lest I be struck down in battle, or in time of peace lest you grant it.”

Turning to Sian, the King said to her,

“You have removed a vast burden from Halvarís, for he has suffered much for a man of the Dúnedain whose years only now reach for 34. He now has the spirit of a young man again. But dark times lay still ahead, though I cannot see them clearly."

For though King Arvedui had use of the Palantiri, their visions were murky and strange and could not be understood. It had only told him of the Elven ship that comes.

"Hard will be the days and unknown the dangers, for now we stand in the warmth of the sun, surely the night will see the return of the cold.”

And the marriage between Halvarís and Sían took place that hour, and much burden and weariness were lifted from the people, and the day seemed longer, and the sun was loath to set, and its heat broke the ice on the bay.

When night fell the cold fog blew in once again from the north, and the fire on the beach almost failed, but was kindled anew by the spirits of Halvarís and Sían as they lay together, and Sian conceived.


The early morning light was gray with cloud, but the fog was gone, and a great ship was seen out on the bay. The King signaled the mariners by reflecting firelight from a shined shield, and King Arvedui and his men made ready to cross the sea ice to board. Last to leave was Halvarís, as he begged Sían to come with him. But the Chief felt a doom on the ship, and counseled the King to stay ere the season warms and days lengthen, for the Witch-kings breath was still strong. But King Arvedui did not heed his counsel. He instead thanked him for his kindness, and gave as bounty his ring, the Ring of Barahir. Sían wanted to go with Halvarís, but her fear for her father’s vision and her heart told only spoke of death. Halvarís kissed Sían long and he begged again for her to come. But her fear of the great ship, her fathers prophesy, and her feeling of death she would not go. She instead begged him to stay with her, but he would not break his sworn duty to his King. For as glad it was the day before, the sorrow of the hearts of Halvarís and Sían weighed heavily on all there, Lossoth and Dúnedain.

“I will come for you ere summer comes.”

Halvarís cried to Sían as he boarded, but Sían wept and would smile no more.

The ship was filled and all were aboard save one, Sían. The Elven mariners made sail toward open waters while Halvarís stood and watched the shore until their watch fire faded and he could see no more. And after a days sail navigating the broken ice, the counsel of Chief Fohel came to fruit when a great wind came out of the north. Fog and snow filled the dark skies before they could break into open waters, and the ship perished with all aboard as it was tossed into the ice. Chief Fohel sensed this, and he gave the Ring of Barahir to Sian to keep ere the return of the Dúnedain. But in her heart Sían knew she would see Halvarís not ever again.

The grief of Sían was deep, and sickness took her in the days ahead. It began the night her father gave her the ring, and grew the next day when word from the fishermen brought news of the shipwreck. The broken ice, hard seas, and heavy snow and fog would not allow them to get close to help, and all aboard perished. As spring thaws came Sian spoke with the Clan's man of lore, and he spoke of much of days of grief ahead. Sian was with Halvarís's child, and her father had taken ill. Though he vowed to live to see his grandchild, it was not to be, for his sons conspired to kill him and Sían, saying their acceptance of the Dúnedain led to their sickness. Sorel became chief of the Foro clan and Sian fled south in hopes of finding Halvarís's kin.

It was I (Rían) who held the secret of Silvanís for so many years. It was one secret among many I had of my life in the days of King Araphant and King Arvedui. Most I will die with but for some be known to others of whose accounting I know not of.

After the fall of Arthedain in 1974 I and my younger sister Ráinna had made our way to Mithlond with my daughters under the watch of the Dúnedain who served with the prince's. In 1975 when the army of Gondor arrived in great ships, and after the Witch-King was defeated, I learned that a woman with child was found near the fork of the River Lhun. This woman had journeyed from the far north and was starving and near death. She was brought to Mithlond for healing but there was no room for them, for the battle wounded were many. I asked that she be housed with me. She was a small woman with a dark complexion, not like the tall Dúnedain. But she worked hard to communicate, but in time I learned that her name was Sían, and she was from the clan of Lossoth, and they had given aid to King Arvedui the winter before.

The days passed and Sían gained strength. As the weeks passed, we were able to communicate better. I was saddened when it was learned what had happened to Cirdan’s ship that had been sent for the King and his men. I also found out that Sían knew of my son Halvarís. This is how word came to me of my son He was a Kings Guardsman, and had lived through the battles, and was with the King to their end in the icy waters of Forochel. There was no word of my husband Kallam, for he never came to the far north with the King. He had been slain in battle west of the Twilight Hills during their rearguard defense and retreat. When I communicated to Sían that I was the mother of Halvarís, tears grew in her eyes. She hugged me long, then motioned to her unborn baby and tried to tell of her marriage to Halvarís. It was then that I knew that Sian was my daughter in law, and she carried my grandchild, and I wondered if the line of Silvanís would endure.....

(Gilrénna's comment)
This was all I have been able to find of this period of the family. A few notations of Rian's told that Sian gave birth to a son and she named him Halvarís. Rian recorded his name as Halvarís II, but what become of the boy is unclear.
Last edited by Halasian on Sun Aug 22, 2010 2:01 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: The Dunedain of the North ~ Annals of a Family Line

Postby Halasian » Sun Aug 22, 2010 1:59 am

I, Gilrénna, discovered a worn and badly damaged parchment in an archeological dig of some ruins of a small fortress discovered on the southwest side of the Misty Mountains. A name of one she had found on another scroll was on it, but much was unreadable. The name was Síano! From what could be made out from it an important date was that of the year. It was written in 2904 of the Third Age. Síano was a name verified to be in the line of Halvarís, a descendant from Father to son. He was Hanasían's grandfather of which all that had been written afterward left his life in mystery. It seemed little was known of him, and nothing was known of Hanasían's Grandmother... until now. I have much work to do with this parchment to be able to tell of what it says, but it is a rare piece of lore of a time where there seemed to have been nothing recorded, or what was recorded was destroyed in some way.

I do have other scrolls and parchments written in the hand of Hanasían that I had been working on before the discovery of the aforementioned ruins. They are written in a journal format and cover some of Hanasían's young life up to the War of the Ring. As you will see, my interest in such must have come to me through Hanasían. I will tell of those here now...


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~ Accounts of Hanasían, Son of Halasían of the Line of Halvarís ~

Here I am learned in the Elven languages in the house of Elrond, and in the Rohirric language by my mother's people. Questions I have had since my childhood, and questions I would ask my mother of my father as I grew, only having a hazy shadow on the edge of memory of him. My dear sister remembered him not and would ask me of him.

What my mother would tell me of him when I asked was that he was a brave member of the Rangers of the Dúnedain, and rode with valor with three chieftains. But the look in her face and the wetness of her eyes told me more, and the stress on the Elven faces when I would talk of him told me there was much more to his story. So it was set in my mind as I grey in Rivendell that I would be a learned man, and I would search and find out of my father.

But it grew further among my thoughts as I matured and my mother, sister, and I moved to Rohan to be with her people. My mother's spirit was waning, and though beautiful and aged with care, it was a burden upon her to know she would never see her beloved Halasían again. She spoke long of her life and that of Halasían, of how they met and fell in love, and told me of my brother Hayna whom I never had met. I wrote it all down, and evermore grew to take interest in history.

So it was that I became a historian of the Dúnedain, one in a line of several who recorded the deeds of which the Dúnedain took part. But the records were sketchy at best. Some in the past took articulate notes, in a ledger barely decipherable, while others would write in the Westron and such, telling of events and festivals and marriages and lines. But many years were lost, and much before King Arvedui was lost in the war of 1974-75. All that was left was preserved in the lore of Rivendall, though the Elves gave little heed to that of men, their years so short in their eyes. When I returned to Rivendell at age 22, I took the time to go and read... read all I could of the Dúnedain, and I talked when I could with Elladan, who spoke freely of his times riding with the generations of men. Elrohir cared less to talk, but would "correct" his brother in details of events he saw differently.

It was such that I was able to collect these writings together and write them in good parchment and inks, preserving the knowledge of men from fading from the world at the departure of the elves. I also tried to keep close record of all I experienced, both good and bad, and ever through my years I would search and look for word of the whereabouts of my father, grandfather, and grandmother.

Herein I would read aloud to the younger of the deeds of the Dúnedain, and the readings were well received, both in The North and in the South, and so I hope it would be long after I am gone...

---------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------

The Battle at Raven Falls

It was a time not thought of to well among the brethren, for the world was darkening and the way of the lands were ever being pressed by darkness. But still we would ride to curb their forays into the lands about Eriador. One of these such times, 7 of us rode east in pursuit of wargs who ravaged the lands, and we drove them back into the woods of Rhuadur. But there was someting not right about it, and mistakenly Elendir, who was in command of this ride in the absence of Cheiftain Aragorn and Captain Halbarad, decided we should see what lingered there, and we set out into the rough country along the upper Hoarwell.

There in the lands that we Dúnedain called Rhuadur, we encamped by the river, above the great long falls named after the Raven, for there were nests of the birds, and the trees tall darkened the forest floor even in the brightest of days. But their inescapable beauty could not be denied, and with three on watch, the other four prepared camp.

Silently they came... hill-men they were and knowing of the terrain. they were upon us before we were aware. Elendur was down before we could react, and Kaldir we heard not from as he was on point watch. Gilrom came tumbling back toward the river from the rocks with a large brute of a man wrestling him for a knife. They battled with some tactic and this made me wonder... for they were not known for much skill in battle, and even the annals we do have from the days of the Northern Dúnedain kings spoke of how they knew little of tactics, and that under the direction of Angmar. Usually the orcs were the force used, so this was indeed strange.

Little time I had to ponder this as I was nearly impaled by a thrown spear, but Kallum had my back and we took down three. The rest were pushed off by the others and we gathered in defence to watch, sure the orcs would come. But they didn't, and I again pondered why this strange attack.

But time was fleeting for I was now beside Elendur. He was face down in the water with his legs ashore, the water lapping about him as the peace of the falls returned. Death was like that. The sound of it was the sound of the water rushing over the falls, or the sounds of flies buzzing about. its there, then total mayhem, then the buzzing again... Elendur was dead, and Kaldir was missing. It was told elsewhere different, but it is I who write these annals, for I was charged by Halbarad who wished not the job. Give it to the young guy who can write in the ancient elven script. Kallum And Gilrom made a wary search for Kaldir, but returned in weary silence. The darkness held us close, and close and alert we remained by a fire blazing hot and large. For they knew we were there, and they knew we were not many, but we waited until dawn to move.

The first light caught me jumping awake, for I had dozed and entered into dream of which I will not speak here. We readied our horses, who somehow managed to gather and return after the attack. I climbed the falls and looked about for sign of Kaldir, but there was none. I did though see in the distance upon a rock a figure standing. The rising sun had not yet shone down on usm and a mist from the upper reach of the river obscured my view, but it was no hill-man, but seemingly one of stature of the Dúnedain. Was it Kaldir? No, for his dress was ragged, but in my attempt to gain a better place to stand to view, he was gone. I chose not to pursue, but returned to the others who had Elendur's body ready to move, and so we left in haste, to return to our camps in the North Downs.

Elendur lie there, prepared for burial there in a place many had been lay to rest through the years of battle and siege. Silent this place was in the North Downs, yet fear of the dead kept the evil of the land away from here. It was here we lay to rest Elendur, feared commander of a company of Dúnedain Rangers.

There were words spoken in an old language... Adûnic I believe, a langiage onsidered disgraced and long forgotten with the fall of Numenor. A short statement it was... a mourning of death. But it was the Sinadrian murmurings that could be heard from many. I myself said nothing, but I listened to the sounds of the unusual words that were carried through the histories of our people. My mind went back in dream to the days when I first spoke to Elendur....

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

~ Víressë 2, 3008 of the Third Age of Middle Earth ~

In Rivendell ...

Spring rains were falling all about the hills of Rivendell. The rain and the melting snows caused the Bruinen to call out its steady song. Hanasían had arisen early to go to the forges to learn of some of the Elven metal craft.

Hanasían was always hungering for knowledge. It was this that caused him to return to Rivendell three years ago. His writing he learned early and he studied the lore of the Elves. But now his thought was turned to weaponry and battle tactics. A good bowman he had become while in Rohan, and here he honed his skills under the eyes of the sons of Elrond. His swordsmanship improved greatly and his movements on foot were sure and quiet. It was his youthful mind that still caused hesitance of some of the elder Rangers. They had ridden and fought with his father Halasían before his birth, and were ever watchful of him. One such Ranger was Elendur.

"Young Hanasian..."

Hanasian turned and stood tall.

'Yes sir!'

"You wish to know so much... the metalurgy here of the elven bladesmiths, yet you are skilled in the craft of the quill. Realize now the days are growing evermore short, and the darkness spreads wide. You will ride with us soon, and the time for youthful learning will be evermore short."


And he walked off. This was the first meeting of many between he and Hanasian, for Elendur rode long with the Rangers, and he had ridden in the time with his Father, in the days of Arathorn! Yet such coldness came from him...

It may have been they feared the son would be like his father Halasían, who was an able fighter but sometimes too ruthless. In the watch in the north against wolves and orc raids, there was no question of Halasían's strengths, but when he was in the south, it was said that his methods were unsound. Add to this a seeming lack of moral character that infected him while away from his wife for long periods, and Halasían ran afoul of his commission. He was none-the-less a dedicated servant of the chieftain, and never to this day could anyone say he did not serve the west in all he did. Some of the elder Rangers said it was a blood fault in him, and that if he had taken a wife in the north that he would have remained true. But Hanasían, overhearing such talk when they spoke among themselves would put this out of his mind. he knew that his line, the line of Halvarís had intermingled with those of lesser men through the years to the disdain of many Dúnedain. Hanasían would be a true Dúnedain Ranger, upright and strong! he would do all that was asked and more, but he would still seek that which he had done since he first came to Rivendell at a young age... find the fate of his father.

The days were evermore darkening, for news was rarely good. Far away news of the darkness of Mordor came from Gondor, and closer, the fell beasts, orcs and wild men of the hills were evermore restless, causing the Dúnedain Rangers to be evermore vigilant in their watch. The sons of Elrond would at times ride out with men of the Dúnedain, but Hanasían remained. But this would soon change. Until then, he worked in practice of his sword and his movement in stealth. He would challenge all he could in close combat exercise, and in this way Hanasían worked to ready himself for the day he too would ride forth on the watch.


~ Víressë 2, 3008 Third Age ~

Sword work... Hanasían's arms ached from it. But the price paid now could keep one alive in future days. He had ended a long session and drank most of a large tankard of water before pouring the last over his already wet head. It was then that Araelawen, the fair young elf maiden came to the skirmish grounds.

'Araelawen, what's wrong?'

He asked seeing the smoulder in her eyes. Being elven-kind, she was in years of the sun roughly the same age as his father, yet this is but barely a passing of a cloud in the wind to the elves.

"Nothing. But before the Valar, Hanasían! I will escape to the North to find and join my father!"

She headed off to the skirmish grounds as he said in her direction,

'That isn't nothing m'lady. - Beware your footing in this rain!'

The rains of the morning had tapered to a grey drizzle, but everything was wet, especially the grasses of the grounds. There was hope the sun would break through before days end as it looked possible if he read the signs right.

Hanasían walked away and thought of her words ... Escape? Was she held prisoner here? What was it like to have family over you? Hanasían had left his mother and sister in Rohan three years before. He had relative freedom here, and wondered about Araelawen's thought of escaping. Surely Lord Elrond was overly protective due to the fate of Celebrian, Araelwen's grandmother. The ringing of the swords spoke of fury unleashed. He would have to spar with her someday, though not when she is mad!

It was his time now for awhile, and he read some old parchments of years past. Naught was said of Halasían in the accounts of Arathorn, but he spoke only in generalities.... Orc and wolf raids out of the hill country towards the west... repulsed with no loss... yet they become evermore bold. ...yet Hanasían poured over all he could of the time his father rode with the Rangers.

The drizzle faded to a chill wind and dampness, but the grey was lifting. The sun would break by evening, for the light on the western horizon grew brighter. Hanasían went out to the archery field and practiced his long range arc. He had a good grasp of bowman-ship while mounted, for the Rohirrim excel in this, but here he worked on his distance, and also marksmanship in silence.

Yes, the the sun began to light the trees... the days were darkening... when would he get the call to ride? Kaldil, another young Dúnedain too waited, and he too flirted with the young elf maiden.... though she is well older than us both combined in the years of the sun... she was still but a teen in the reckoning of the elves. But the games of youth were evermore ending.. Elendur's words echoed through Hanasían at these times....


~ Evening of Lótessë 10, 3008 Third Age - The Call Comes to Hanasían ~

The call came when Arkaeth, a veteran Ranger, took me aside from my sword-work and told me to prepare to ride out. This filled me with eager anticipation as I was finally asked to ride out with some Rangers!

Every bit of thought from that moment I put into preparation, listening to the kind suggestions from Arkaeth. I was even more eager to be able to spend time with this Ranger, for he had in his young days ridden with my father, Halasían. Maybe he would speak some of him? Maybe not... He instead told me to get rest, for it would be the last night in comfort for days uncounted...


~ Dawn of Lótessë 11, 3008 Third Age - the First Ride Out ~

The hour before dawn came too soon. I had gone to bed early in hopes of gathering as much sleep as I could. But my mind would not let me rest. A passing doze here, a fitful turn there, and the darkness crept about silently around me. Somewhere in that deep of night, I fell into an unrestful sleep haunted with visions. Not bad visions, but their intensity caused the little sleep I did get to be more draining than restful. When the call came, I awoke in a start, but the rush of finally riding out had me wide awake in short order.

The dawn in Rivendell was misty and wet, with the dampness seemingly finding its way into everything. The chill stabbed at the bones as we set out from the gates of Rivendell. Turning hard to the north, we worked our way into the highlands of the woods of the Ettenmoors.

We moved in silence, and I followed third in line. There were five Rangers in all in this party, and we were riding a watch in the hills and would come out into the plains well north and west. Only Arkaeth knew for sure what word had come, and he would share it in due time. For now we rode silent. Even the horses were sure-footed and quiet, and they spread along a narrow path just far enough for them to see the other. Hand-sign was used as Arkaeth spoke of extreme noise discipline before we left. I hoped I would not miss a sign for I was in the middle of this line. It was a key place for communications when riding tight trail such as this, which was a very dangerous thing to do. I concentrated on knowing and passing correct sign, and listening close to anything that did not sound right. But all was as it should be with the birds starting their morning song.

After much winding and turning on this track, we came to where the trees and brush was not so tight. We gained elevation, and soon we came to a grove of trees well up in the hills. The light of the sun pushed against the eastern horizon, and we could see it would be a clear spring day. The mists and fog were well below us now, shrouding Rivendell in its secrecy. we dismounted here and watched out long and slow. Arkaeth asked in hand-sign what each of us saw, and we signed back. he them pointed well west, to some highlands that appeared far away, and motioned that it was our day's goal. We all nodded, and we mounted up again....

The day was routine according to Arkaeth and the elder Rangers in the party. This was a good thing they assured me, but I was overly excited about everything. I was ready to ride forth in battle with the evil folk who threaten the north. But it would not be so this day.

As we came to where Arkaeth wished to be, we set camp and watch, two on high points opposite each other each side of the dell of trees. the three left set the food, and rested and tended the horses. No fires this night.

I wondered about Elendur and where he was. I thought he would be here in his first ride with the Rangers... but it was not so. Arkaeth was in lead of this company, For Elendur took 4 others, including Kaldil, on another ride east of Rivendell.


~ Loëndë, 3008 of the Third Age ~

Hanasían and the company of Rangers he rode with continued to ride north from Rivendell, staying out for weeks at a time. They would at times cross the rolling grasslands west to the Weather Hills where the places the Rangers kept were checked and re-supplied. But there was no hostile activity in these days, only rumor and old sign of the hill-men. They returned from a long sortie three days before Loëndë and were glad for the rest and clean up.

The feast of Loëndë in Rivendell was as usual a grand affair, but there was the looming cloud of the dark days even over these festivities. Despite this, Hanasían enjoyed the feast, and the festivities carried on well into the evening. But Hanasían had made off toward the river and sat in the grass with his quill and parchment to write. There he wrote until the light of the setting sun allowed no more, and the rising of the full moon had yet to clear the mountains to the east. But there he sat and thought. He considered the words of the Rangers from all his rides so far, and knew the calm would come crashing to an end.

Not sure when it happened, but as the moonlight rose ever higher behind the mountains, Hanasían found himself drifting into dreams. He had rested up well the last three days, but he did partake in ale and had some miruvore. Maybe it was affecting him now? He lay back and watched the shadowy light grow as the wind sang its soft song in the grass and trees. He sat up when he sensed something... someone nearby. Keeping low in the grass he peered out toward the east. A shimmer of silvery silk fluttered about in the soft breeze, and silently footsteps approached. An elven woman whom he had not seen before approached in a dance, maybe like the way Luthien approached Beren in tales of old? Hanasian sat frozen in the grass as she neared. Her hair was as dark as the night as it wrapped about her face and shoulders. She was small as far as the elven women he had known were, and her skin seemingly browned, unlike any elves he saw before. She stood now before him and spoke in a soft, breathy voice...

"Son of Halasían you are?"

She spoke in a way that was seemingly sure, yet ended as a question.

'One of.'

He replied stiffly as he started to rise. She nodded and smiled, and her hand came to his shoulder and stopped him as she sat down in the grass beside him. Hanasían eased himself back down as he looked at the side of her face.

'Who are you m'lady?'

He asked softly, his breath being taken away by a light wisp if spicy scent. She looked at him with her dark eyes as a breeze wrapped her black hair about her face.

"I am Raven, born in Middle Earth long ago in Beleriand."

'But you are seen or spoken not of in Rivendell?'


...he asked. A sadness filled her eyes as she looked up toward where the moon was about to break out over the mountains.

"Elven lore speaks little of me except in tales of pain and darkness, for the path I have walked among the Eldar through the ages has been one of pain and darkness."

Maybe he played right into her hands, for he felt helpless to relieve any of her pain. Yet his finger went to her cheek and took from it the tear that traced its silvery path from her eye. She jumped slightly, then took his hand into hers and held it to her cheek. The warmth of her cheek coursed through his cold fingers, and from there through his whole body. She whispered something in Quenya he did not hear fully or understand, then she then went on...

"I will go not to the west, for my home is here in Middle Earth. It is among the Edain that has brought me much happiness. Yet with that happiness, so too pain and darkness follows closely. For my immortal blood can follow not. Oh to be blessed with the doom of Luthien!"

Her silken wrap billowed in the breeze as he was overcome with warmth. Her voice in his ear whispered to him,

"I have known the sons of Halvarís..."

Hanasían thought for a moment to ask her of his family so he could write, but he was lost to himself, captivated in waves of beauty and vision. His mind saw his fathers, and he fell deep into a trance as she melted upon him.


The birds were the first thing he heard as he shivered, the dew-soaked grass flattened about him glistening in the dull light of the morning. Away to the west the sun-lit hills were bright as day, but here it was still in shadow. He looked at the mountains to the east, and like a vague dream he remembered the midsummer night's moonrise. Was it all a dream? Vague glimpses of the woman seemed faded, but the visions of his fathers seemed nearly real. Hanasían sat up and shook his head to clear the webs, and wondered of this mystery. It was then he realized a wrap of white silk was about his neck. He felt its damp softness, and knew she was indeed real. He stood and looked around, but there was no sign of her. He stretched his sore muscles and started walking back to where the Rangers camped...

~ Urimë, 3008 of the Third Age ~

The summer came on hot and dry, and it was 4 days after midsummer that Hanasían and four others rode out from Rivendell. They made their way west and north, coming to the northernmost reach of the Weather Hills. There they would stay and watch, two men up high, and three down low. One man stayed at the encampment while the others watched. Yes, they were to watch the northern approaches for movement, but the heat made it hard for there was little water. The spring was not flowing much, so it took a lot of coaxing to get enough to fill ones bag. Hanasían found the duty hard in its monotony, but his mind stayed alert, even though he spent much time thinking and remembering Midsummers night.....

It was not until the ride after Midsummers Day did Elendur ride with me. But this was only due to the fact the two companies were riding out together under Halbarad's command. Elrohir, one of the sons of Elrond rode out with us as well. We had ridden north to the rise of Mount Gram, and we searched for sign of recent movement of the darkness. Wolves there were, but they stayed well away from the men of the West. Long it had been since the Witch King fled the north, but still his darkness still lingered.

It was this time that we first came to Raven Falls, on our way back by ways Elrohir knew. We mapped these ways in our minds as we went. It was now that Elendur spoke to me, and of course it was of my father.

"It is said your father Halasian lurks here in these hills. I believe it, fr I see sigh f his comings and goings. But I never see him for his knowledge of our ways are deep. The sign have always been old, though we did come by a place where he slept only three days before once."

His grey eyes looked into mine as I listened. I could feel him reading my thoughts. Maybe what he saw eased his mind? But that day forward he'd began to trust my good intentions. But he would speak no more of Halasian....

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My mind lingered on these last words spoken. I stepped forward and began to speak of Elendur, though my mind was still far away in another time... the Sindarin came from my mouth....

'This man Elendur, a father to me since he had ridden with my father, spoke much to me one day when we were at Raven Falls. It was some years ago, but it seemed to me strange at the time that he spoke of death then. Did he know his life would end there by its singing waters? I do not know, but I do know that he taught me much in my years of training and in riding with him, and I hope to hold up his honor in all I do. To Elendur's honor, he rests now with his wife, and may all peace go to his son and daughter.'

I bowed in honor and stepped back. I was last to speak of him, so we all now took to covering his body.

(Gilrenna's commentary: This was as far as I got on this chronological part of his writings. I will I will read and present more when I have time, but its surely understandable that I will concentrate on the new findings of the ruins for a time.)

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Re: The Dunedain of the North ~ Annals of a Family Line

Postby Halasian » Sun Aug 22, 2010 2:00 am

I dug this up off the old Ringbearer and actually took the time too edit it some, fixing typos and some sentence structure. sorry to bore you all with the same ol... maybe the muse will hit & I'll add to it.
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Re: The Dunedain of the North ~ Annals of a Family Line

Postby Candy Kane » Thu Sep 02, 2010 8:21 am

This is really cool stuff! If you only had a proper archive to add it to! I'm working on one ATM, if anyone is interested. It's structurally fine, it just needs to be tidied up a bit.

The fragmentary tone reads a bit like the appendices at the end of LOTR, and the notes are reminiscent of Frank Herbert's Dune. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it.
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Re: The Dunedain of the North ~ Annals of a Family Line

Postby shireling » Thu Sep 30, 2010 11:09 am

That's what I was thinking of too, Candy.

You've done your homework, Halasian! Great research and very nicely put together! It reads like history!
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Re: The Dunedain of the North ~ Annals of a Family Line

Postby Candy Kane » Thu Sep 30, 2010 11:02 pm

Yeah, I really love the tone. I'm pushing the new archive as a place to store our stories because I don't like the thought of them being buried here. Besides, I want to add some more authors' works to the Featured section.

archive

It's actually linked in the top main menu as "Stories."
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Re: The Dunedain of the North ~ Annals of a Family Line

Postby Halasian » Tue Oct 26, 2010 10:40 am

I'll have to check a little deeper into this story archive.

You can blame all this on my trying to come up with a backstory to some characters I was writing in role-plays in the creative years of 2000-2004. I haven't added too much other than some detail in revision, and since it started to grow into something bigger than I ever intended, I started writing it as a historical perspective from someone looking back in research. I do need to do more editing to remove some inconsistencies that have come up from the bits and pieces of different tales and role plays being brought together. I can totally understand why there are so many different versions of the Silmarillion.
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Candy Kane
Psychic detective
Posts: 2679
Joined: Sun May 09, 2010 7:36 pm
Location: Manchester

Re: The Dunedain of the North ~ Annals of a Family Line

Postby Candy Kane » Tue Oct 26, 2010 10:47 am

It's great stuff. I guess I'm just excited about the story archive. I hope you will give it a go, and when you do, that you enjoy using it.
To err is but human, to forgive divine, and to design is AWESOME! :8


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