Numenore: Reloaded ~ A Numenorean RP

[Falathrim]

Numenore: Reloaded

No that certainly is not going to be this RPs name!



In the final years of the First Age, the Half-elf Earendil won for the Free Peoples of Middle-earth the pity of the Valar. Thus, the Host of the Valar came at long last to Endor, and threw down finally the Dark Lord Morgoth Bauglir. He was chained, executed, and thrust into the Outer Dark, to remain there until the Unmarring of the World.

Ironic that it was the throwing of the Hell-master outside the world's walls that caused all hell to break loose on the world.

For many a century, the Numenoreans were the champions of nobility in the world. But as time passes, their enemies grow ever in number. In the far East of the world, a new threat rises, one who would see the island kingdom thrust beneath the waters of the world. Taco-Sauron, the High Men name him, and he was Morgoth's chief servant and favorite food. The Dark Lord gathers unto him a great number of Illiterates, chief foes of the Numenoreans. The great havens, assailed by those fangirlish folk, have dwindled, and now only Arnor and Gondor remain safe from the evil claws of illiteracy.

Yet while their chief peril lies to the east, the Wise among Numenore gaze also Westward, and are afraid. For many a countless age, the West Men suffered against the cruel and unjust Ban of the Valar, and were not permitted to sail to Tol Eressea where their friends the Eldar dwelt. Still they accepted the Ban, for they had great reverence for the Valar, those mighty ones who threw down the Dark Lord. But as the years fade and the Elder Days grow ever distant, the Valar grow ever colder to the Numenoreans. Rumors speak of a darkened Manwe, one who would wish to see Numenore under his own dominion. If this be so, then alas! he is an a** indeed.

Thus, the Numenoreans must look East and West with fear, for they are unloved, though they be a pure folk. It is good, then, that still can the Numenoreans find friendship in the scattered folk of the Eldar. And the And the Ents. And maybe the Eagles. And if enough Shinies are givent he Dwarves. But they certainly do not have friendship with the Unicorns, for the Numenoreans do not befriend fiction!

 

[Falathrim]

Realms of Arda



Numenore

The great island kingdom of Numenore was a gift bestowed upon the Numenoreans by the Valar, a reward for their courageous (if also in vain) efforts agaisnt the Dark Lord Morgoth Bauglir. To describe its beauty here would take many an age, and besides, it's already done in Unfinished Tales so stop wasting my time.

The High King of Numenore has his seat in Armenelos in the shadows of the Meneltarma.

~~~
Arnor and Gondor

In ages past, the Numenoreans maintained many havens off the shores of Middle-earth. But as Taco-Sauron grew in might, the number of people willing to stray from their island home in the Sea diminished, and the strength in the East failed. Now, only two of these once numerous great cities remain: Arnor in the north, and Gondor in the South. These twin havens are ruled by Tar-Vader, a counselor of the King, and his faithful Steward Francis. But can they maintain the fragile safety of their cities even as the evil and despicable Illiterates constantly besieges the city walls?

Arnor: A city of white walls and too many bells. Lying in the footsteps of the kingdoms of the Elves, it has long been safe from any enemy attacks. The citizens of Arnor take great pride in their shrubberies, and would not permit any harm be done to them.

Gondor: High up in the Tall Tall Mountains is the second Numenorean haven found. The city is very high up. Yes, very high. Ironically, Gondor does actually mean Land of the Stone, so I guess that makes our Gondor more aptly named than Tolkien's. Who?'d of thunk it? Sadly, Gondor is not so fortunate as Arnor, and is oft plagued by Illiterates, seeking some "Laaygliees" guy or something I dunno.

Osgiliath High Bridge: When the King Steve's Kickass Bridge collapsed into the Drunkenwine River seventeen years ago, Lord Vader had built a new bridge at the Plains of Osgiliath. Though there is no city for many miles, there is a small tavern built on the bridge. Freaky people from Scene 24 like to gather here to exchange death-inducing questions of utter insanity.

Map of Middle-earth. Clicky-clicky!

~~~
Lindon

The last of the great Elven realms on Middle-earth, ruled by the Elvenqueen Daerorchalmeluirin from her royal throne in the chief city of Galadhremmen. This rich realm has many dealings with the Numenorean havens of Arnor and Gondor, and are chief amongst the allies of the Dunedain.

~~~
Dwarfland

A barren wasteland full of barren wastes, this is the kingdom of the Dwarves. There are few who would walk the East-West Raod that runs through this kingdom, for the Naugrim are a hostile people, who would do all they can to take by force the many Shinies held by the Numenoreans and the Eldar. They say the three great mines of the Dwarves are filled with Shinies and Alcohol uncounted.

~~~
Aman

The realm of the Valar; Aman would be held insignificant in the annals of Men if not for the presence of Tol Eressea, where the Eldar still dwell. Men do not come to Aman, out of fear of the unjust Ban of the Valar.

~~~
Mordor

East lie Mordor
where is tacos

 

[Falathrim]

Races of Arda


The Numenoreans

The Numenoreans are the descendants of the Edain, those faithful Men who allied themselves with the Eldar in their unceasing war against Morgoth. Their prize was utter defeat and complete ruin, as all three of their noble Houses were slaughtered unjustly; with one going so far as to become almost entirely killed off in a horrible display of wretched genocide. Their second prize was a blessed island kingdom where all five survivors could live in utopian peace. That is, until the return of Taco-Sauron.

As the RP takes place mostly on the isle of Numenore, it should be expected that most of us are Numenoreans.

~~~
The Eldar

The Elves reward in the war against Morgoth was a one-way ticket back home to Aman. No, they aren't allowed to return to Middle-earth, god-spammit! They can, however, sail to Numenore, which is always a good thing. There, they are given the right to shower upon the Numenoreans praise of the Valar. What, the Valar want to take back Numenore? Lies! FILTHY LIES!

Elves are considered the quintessence of perfection. There are just two drawback to this gifted race: Firstly, they would follow the Valar blindly, not questioning what has been said. Secondly, their men look a lot like their women. Nonetheless, even considering these two major flaws, they maintain a friendship with Numenore, and will often sail to the shores of Andunie.

~~~
The Dwarves

The Dwarves showed up rather early in the mythology of the world, and they were immediately welcomed with a general sense of hatred. Why, you ask? Their women have beards. They're just little bundles of easily detestable hair. Not even the Numenoreans, in their almighty perfection, are able to put asided their prejudices against the stunted folk.

Rumor claims that Taco-Sauron has convinced the Seven Houses of the Dwarves to enter into his service. But it is of no concern if this be true, for not even the Illiterates can stand being around these guys. They are effectively useless.

Careful! They will kill for Shinies.

~~~
The Valar

What a bunch of asses.

~~~
The Unicorns

...what?

 

[Falathrim]

Our Most Beloved Characters


Numenoreans
Tar-Vader, Governor of the Numenorean Realms in Exile :: Falathrim
Steward Francis to the House of Vader :: curumo
Roger the Shrubber :: Nimbrethil
Tom the Stout :: thaxul
Maedhros the Man :: Zach McClure
Aetera, Some Random Gondorian Chick :: Nienna of the Valar
Alkwing, the Numenorean Thief :: imyavie
The Old Man From Scene 24 :: Hironaur
Stan/Loretta the Gender-confused Person :: Zurgi
Willy Bobert Joe the Rancher Guy Dude :: Zylaxidia
Aphadriel the Person :: Kementari

Elves
Elvenqueen Daerorchalmeluirin of Lindon :: Glorfirith Annun
That Randomly Unnamed Elf-chick :: Elainya

Dwarves
The Dwarf from Scene 24 :: Onoj

 

[Thaxul]

Arnor: Some tavern

*Tom, a stout warrior of Numenore thrust open the door of a small, dark pub. He was soaked to the skin, because he decided earlier in the day to take a swim, and he had not dried off yet. he walked over to bar, and sat himself down onto a stool. He went to put his sheathed sword onto the counter, but it was not attached to his waist.*

"Sheet!"

*he ran out of the bar, and back down to the river, in search of his blade.*  

[Falathrim]

Arnor :: Imperial Throne Room

"My lord! Intelligence claims that the Illiterates plan to besiege Gondor by night fall!"

"That's lovely. Try to hold the fort down while I'm gone."

Ernest, the right hand man of Tar-Vader, stared incredulously at his lord. "My Lord Vader, do you honestly hold the King's New Year Ball to be more important than the obvious incoming attack of Illiteracy?"

Tar-Vader glared. "Of course. They are illiterate. What's the worst they could possibly do? Now pack my bags, and tell my Steward than I am on vacation. Hurry now!"  

[curumo]

The Steward was in the topmost chamber, folding socks while leaning on the windowledge and thinking about the best place to put the shrubbery that had been purchased that very afternoon from Roger the Shrubber. Just then, Ernest knocked on the door.

"Enter," the Steward said, carefully arranging the lace on the last pair of socks.

"Uh, Steward? LordTar-Vaderisonvacation!" Ernest said quickly, and ran from the room. The Steward stared blankly at the vacant doorway.

I get a vacation? A visit to Tar-Vader will clear this up! thought the Steward cheerfully, skipping off in the direction that Ernest had run.  

[Falathrim]

Arnor :: Imperial Throne Room

Deep within the Imperial Throne Room, Tar-Vader sat. And sat he did, for he was frustrated. He simply could not fit his party helmet into his suitcase. "I knew I should have packed in my large bag." He glanced downwards, where at the throne's foot sat his party helmet, with its vivid colors and loud screamers. "This is not how the Governor of the Numenorean Realms in exile should be treated!" he cried.

Suddenly, Ernest came running in, with Steward What'shername following just behind. "Ah, Faithful Steward," welcomed the Lord. "How fareth thee on this good morn, if I may be so inclined to ask?"  

[curumo]

"Um. Good... There's a shrubbery coming, so that's... good...." Francis the Steward said, bowing quickly.

Strangely, the party helmet wasn't the first thing he noticed when he walked into the room. Noticing it now, his face fell. The vacation wasn't his after all, it was merely a call to duty.

"Stupid duty," he muttered. More clearly, he said, "I am ready to serve, my lord."  

[Nimbrethil]

Arnor :: Roger's Hut

Roger shook his silver-white mane as his magical horn gleamed in the moonlight. His only wish was that he wasn't the last of the unicorns...

"Roger!" his mother's shrill voice woke him as effectively as a cold bucket of water with spikes in it.

"Mother," he called to her irritably, "Go home!"

He shuddered at the memory of his dream. He would need a tall jug of the Steward's own moonshine to wash that away. Good thing that was where his delivery was this morning.

After a quick breakfast of boiled lupins, Roger hitched up his horse and wagon and set off.  

[Falathrim]

Arnor :: Imperial Throne Room

"Excellent. Thank you, Steward."

Vader glanced down at the party helmet. Maybe he could leave his Regal Helmet in Arnor, and wear the party helmet? But no, it would be ridiculous, wearing the partry helmet for a week straight. With a deep sigh, be began to unpack his undergarments.

As he dragged his larger suitcase out from the small closet just off the throne room, Vader spoke once more to Francis. "Steward, you may be about to ask this: 'What other duties would you have me do, my lord?' And you would be right to do so. Rumor speaks of an Illiterate attack on our twin haven of Gondor. Try and make sure they don't do any lasting damage."  

[curumo]

Francis shuddered at the thought of what the illiterates could do to Gondor if they were allowed to run free there. The Steward was fairly certain that a Numenorean child of five could outwit the entire force of illiterates, but who was he to question the will of Vader?

"Must we send great numbers to defeat these most unworthy foes? Perhaps an elite strike team should be sent to infiltrate their ranks, and persuade them to move along. Surely all it would take to distract them would be free sparkly gel pens? What does my lord suggest we do?"

The Steward realized that as the Steward, his duties included thinking up Really Good Plans, but it was just as easy to ask.

"Don't forget to take a jug of my moonshine with you on vacation. I'm told it would put a dragon under the table."  

[Falathrim]

Arnor :: Imperial Throne Room

"Ai, ai! I forgot the Moonshine! Ai!"

Vader looked down into his suitcase. It was large enough for the party helmet, true, but not quite large enough for the Moonshine also. "Ai, ai!" he repeated, having learning that phrase from his close and personal friend Legolas Greenleaf of the neighboring realm of Lindon.

Suddenly, Vader's mind became horribly derailed. Wait a sec. Doesn't Legolas mean 'Greenleaf' in the Silvan tongues? How strange that his father would name him Greenleaf Greenleaf, then!

A glimspe at his party helmet, however, returned him to the issue of packing. "I could bring two suitcases, but then surely the King would laugh. 'Gone a weekend, packing for a week,' he'll say. Hmph. Faithful Steward!" he cried. "Find a solution to my packing dilemna."

He had clearly forgotten all about the Gondor situation.  

[curumo]

Francis sighed.

The solution was so obvious. "My lord, do not take the party helmet at all! Merely take this fanny pack filled with accessories that you may you use to fabulize your everyday helmet for the purposes of getting your funk on."

The Steward pulled a fanny pack from beneath the folds of the official Steward robe and handed it to Vader.

"So, uh. Just do whatever I want for the illiterate infestation?" Francis asked casually.

After a pause, "Where are you going, anyway?"  

[Falathrim]

Arnor :: Imperial Throne Room

The Lord Vader took but one look upon the fanny pack with such adorable accessories before tossing his party helmet out the window. "Ah, Steward, this is exactly why I appointed thee Steward of my House. Well done! I shall look simply fabulous!" And so the fanny pack was neatly attached as if it were a belt.

But quite suddenly the Lord Vader rose to full stature, and his giddy schoolgirl side was put aside, and he became kingly once more. "The threat of the Illiterates is not to be taken lightly, faithful Steward. Alone, they are a laughing matter. But they are guided by Taco-Sauron, and I would fear that perhaps in the end his wrath shall be revealed through his soldiers.

"Yet, I suppose, it is not this day. Yes; do as you deem right. Your counsels have not yet betrayed me, Steward."

And then, a pause. "The King invited me to a little party in Armenelos. You weren't invited. And Eruspammit where's the Moonshine?"