Long we have remained hidden from the eyes of the Enemy, operating in the shadows, fighting His cause across Middle Earth for generations of our noble line. Many would accuse us of cowardice, of not living up to our responsibilities, but we face death each and every day, as we shield those unable to defend themselves. Some call us ‘Rangers’, as if it were a derogatory term. Whether it is from wolves, trolls or worse – and there are things in the dark that make these foes pale by comparison, and we have met and faced them, now as in our past. Even our ancient dead have turned upon us, and our old world is but a memory, distant glories those of song and funeral dirge.
We preserve the bloodlines of old Numenor, of the four ships of Elendil that held much magnificence and hope in a day that is long past, appearing only in the embers of our dreams, in poetry and verse, in mouldering records kept in a few of the greater libraries of this world. For we hide the bloodlines of the Kings of men, of the Kingdom of Armor, ill fated realm that split into three at the death of the last King of Arnor, Earendur. ALthough we hide, we turn the tide of war against our foe, and his eyes search everywhere for us, for he fears the blood of Numenor.
Glorious was the Kingdom of Arnor, and those that followed, Arthedain in the West, that lay from Gil-Galad’s gift of the White Towers of Elos Tirionby the River Lune, to the River Baranduin. Annuminas was theirs, as was the Capital at Fornost. Cardolan lay in the South of Arnor, between the Baranduin, through to the Greyflood, containing the Great east Road of elf and dwarf, in the now ruinous city of Tharbad, once great. Treacherous Rhudaur fell into shadow, but in it’s glory lay in the east, from the Weather Hills and Amon Sul, where the three met, to the very borders of Rivendell and the Misty Mountains .
Great was our history, too much to tell, of the Seven Kings of Arnor, and the Palantir, the three, that caused much of our woes. There was jealousy there, and the Kingdoms of both Cardolan and Rhudaur greatly desired the seeing-stone of Amon Sul, but it was denied them, even at the end. Even when Arvedui, King of Arthedain and his sons died at sea, with the loss of the two Palantiri of Amon Sul and Annuminas. Malbeth the Seer predicted him the last of Arthedain, and his surviving son Aranarth took the Chieftainship of the Dunedain in Exile, after plague, war and treachery, the Witch King’s machinations , all failed to utterly destroy us. Still we live; between Lindon, Rivendell and the North Downs we are scattered, and the traditions are all that hold us - that and the surviving blood of kings that runs in our chieftains.
Ohtar, Squire of Isildur, brought the Shards of Narsil to Rivendell, where we added the Sceptre of Annuminas and the ancient Ring of Barahir, given unto the Edain in the times of the First Age in sign of the friendship of all Elves. A tradition began which saw our chieftains fostered in Rivendell, to train in safety in their youth, so that they may yet unite the kingdoms of old reborn. The time has come, at last, for us to think of what was and make it so again. The wise still speak of a time when Cardolan, Arthedain and Rhudaur will be united and populated again, and the mistakes of our ancestors be wiped from history save as a reminder, a warning to those of future lines. We possess the one man who could unite the Kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor once more. His name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and his is the power that could overturn the Stewardship that has served Middle Earth well in the south, and announce to all the Return of the King. With trumpet and blazoned banner will the Dunedain call the notes of dynasty that has long remained unheard. The Grey Company will ride in war, and all will fall before our irrepressible charge.
The way will not be of ease. We are comparatively few, and our allies may be the stronger part of our hope, yet there are enough to make our dreams true.T here are others who will follow our early days in war, and they remember, but have lost hope – they remember the alliance that overthrew the Witch King at Fornost, and will do their part again. The Elves, the folk of Bree-land, the scattered folk of eregion. They will answer our call, and we may yet find allies in the Dwarves, for they are stronger than they fear they are not. The greater West is our land of friendship and alliance, trade is good, and the strength of men is beyond recall. Together we will make songs of old live again, bring the words of poets out of the pages of books, and the memory of great Arnor will take form from all of this.
Our Aragorn has fought in wars across Middle Earth, leading the sacking of Umbar, fighting in the armies of Gondor. He has ridden alongside our people in secrecy, his flashing blade carving the fury of lost times across the lines of our enemies. He has fought beside the folk of Elrond, has become great in wisdom and the art of war, and he has allies - the sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir are with us and any of us would die for him gladly, for he is a great man, and his destiny is larger than any chieftain before him. Days of glory await, and he truly has the strength to bring back the twin Kingdoms and best Sauron in his own lair of deepening Shadow.
We preserve the bloodlines of old Numenor, of the four ships of Elendil that held much magnificence and hope in a day that is long past, appearing only in the embers of our dreams, in poetry and verse, in mouldering records kept in a few of the greater libraries of this world. For we hide the bloodlines of the Kings of men, of the Kingdom of Armor, ill fated realm that split into three at the death of the last King of Arnor, Earendur. ALthough we hide, we turn the tide of war against our foe, and his eyes search everywhere for us, for he fears the blood of Numenor.
Glorious was the Kingdom of Arnor, and those that followed, Arthedain in the West, that lay from Gil-Galad’s gift of the White Towers of Elos Tirionby the River Lune, to the River Baranduin. Annuminas was theirs, as was the Capital at Fornost. Cardolan lay in the South of Arnor, between the Baranduin, through to the Greyflood, containing the Great east Road of elf and dwarf, in the now ruinous city of Tharbad, once great. Treacherous Rhudaur fell into shadow, but in it’s glory lay in the east, from the Weather Hills and Amon Sul, where the three met, to the very borders of Rivendell and the Misty Mountains .
Great was our history, too much to tell, of the Seven Kings of Arnor, and the Palantir, the three, that caused much of our woes. There was jealousy there, and the Kingdoms of both Cardolan and Rhudaur greatly desired the seeing-stone of Amon Sul, but it was denied them, even at the end. Even when Arvedui, King of Arthedain and his sons died at sea, with the loss of the two Palantiri of Amon Sul and Annuminas. Malbeth the Seer predicted him the last of Arthedain, and his surviving son Aranarth took the Chieftainship of the Dunedain in Exile, after plague, war and treachery, the Witch King’s machinations , all failed to utterly destroy us. Still we live; between Lindon, Rivendell and the North Downs we are scattered, and the traditions are all that hold us - that and the surviving blood of kings that runs in our chieftains.
Ohtar, Squire of Isildur, brought the Shards of Narsil to Rivendell, where we added the Sceptre of Annuminas and the ancient Ring of Barahir, given unto the Edain in the times of the First Age in sign of the friendship of all Elves. A tradition began which saw our chieftains fostered in Rivendell, to train in safety in their youth, so that they may yet unite the kingdoms of old reborn. The time has come, at last, for us to think of what was and make it so again. The wise still speak of a time when Cardolan, Arthedain and Rhudaur will be united and populated again, and the mistakes of our ancestors be wiped from history save as a reminder, a warning to those of future lines. We possess the one man who could unite the Kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor once more. His name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and his is the power that could overturn the Stewardship that has served Middle Earth well in the south, and announce to all the Return of the King. With trumpet and blazoned banner will the Dunedain call the notes of dynasty that has long remained unheard. The Grey Company will ride in war, and all will fall before our irrepressible charge.
The way will not be of ease. We are comparatively few, and our allies may be the stronger part of our hope, yet there are enough to make our dreams true.T here are others who will follow our early days in war, and they remember, but have lost hope – they remember the alliance that overthrew the Witch King at Fornost, and will do their part again. The Elves, the folk of Bree-land, the scattered folk of eregion. They will answer our call, and we may yet find allies in the Dwarves, for they are stronger than they fear they are not. The greater West is our land of friendship and alliance, trade is good, and the strength of men is beyond recall. Together we will make songs of old live again, bring the words of poets out of the pages of books, and the memory of great Arnor will take form from all of this.
Our Aragorn has fought in wars across Middle Earth, leading the sacking of Umbar, fighting in the armies of Gondor. He has ridden alongside our people in secrecy, his flashing blade carving the fury of lost times across the lines of our enemies. He has fought beside the folk of Elrond, has become great in wisdom and the art of war, and he has allies - the sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir are with us and any of us would die for him gladly, for he is a great man, and his destiny is larger than any chieftain before him. Days of glory await, and he truly has the strength to bring back the twin Kingdoms and best Sauron in his own lair of deepening Shadow.