View Full Version : Edhellond

30/Nov/2009, 11:49 AM
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Before the Elves arrived, this site on the Bay of Belfalas was inhabited by fisher-folk. Men, women and children fled to the White Mountains while Edhellond, a graceful Elf haven, was founded and established by the Sindarin Elves, soon joined by Silvan Elves and Wood-elves longing for the Sea.

But Elves grew weary of Middle-Earth. Ships were built and prepared for the last voyage across the Sea, and the autumn of the year 1981 of the Third Age carried away the last of the Elves of Edhellond. Heaving a sigh to the memory of King Amroth, whose journey ended in the last autumn’s storm, waves of the sea still crash on the shore. The somber Song of Nimrodel still sounds in the wind, but much of the infinite beauty and desire to survive shadows, which the Elves brought, has remained.

Since the last Elven ship parted the haven, the fisher-folk have gradually returned to their roots. In late years of the Third Age the settlement is thinly populated, but many huts, some bigger lodgings, fishing boats and a local harbor-market create a sense of a tight society.

The people of Edhellond have a love for legends and folklore. Not many come to visit purposefully, but some may stray from their paths on their travels and stop to admire remnants of the high culture of the Elves curiously mixed with traditions of the original inhabitants of the coast. It is a place for learning legends, listening to tales of old and telling stories of today, a place for discovering and studying both old and new.</font>

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If you have entered this thread to go fishing, go fishing! Outside fishing,
Edhellond is a thread for character building, designed for those who appreciate serious RPGs and are ready to make an effort to develop a character’s past and present, as well as family history. Also for those who are particularly fond of folklore in Tolkien’s Middle-Earth, and wish to carry out Middle-Earth’s history through their characters.

Did you ever find it troubling to find a thread in which you can write about your character’s background, comprehensively without making it a list of facts and events? Now you can RP what has previously been done in a variety of character surveys, and gain an inspiring experience from it. Do you want to show your knowledge in Middle-Earth’s folklore? Here you can do that naturally in your own RPG.

Arrive to Edhellond, alone or with a friend, and meet the legend-loving folk of Edhellond. Discuss history and life-changing events in Middle-Earth, or share your own story by a fireplace in a rustic tavern in the harbor, visit a family in their cottage further away from the coast, or speak your story to your travelling companion - it is up to you to whom and how you share your story, but Edhellond is the thread to do it in an RPG.

Fisher-folk you may meet will be RPed by Rulers. Thus no one has to RP alone, unless it is what you prefer.

Hints and Tips
- In your first post, describe the scenery you arrive to in Edhellond. Rulers can then pick on your mood and wishes, and create a proper NPC to RP with you.
- In this thread quality is appreciated over quantity. Take your time designing, planning and creating the stories you want to share.
- Your story may come from anywhere in Middle-Earth. However, Tolkien-realism is appreciated and we ask you to make it believable if it’s not based on existing records about Middle-Earth’s history.
- Rulers are happy to help, give pieces of advice and feedback to anyone truly wanting to develop a character. You may ask for feedback or guidance in a whitened OOC message in the end of your post, or PM any Ruler in advance.
- An effort will be marked, and good stories will, doubtless, receive a generous tribute.
A wind by night in Northern lands
Arose, and loud it cried,
And drove the ship from elven-strands
Across the streaming tide.

When dawn came dim the land was lost,
The mountains sinking grey
Beyond the heaving waves that tossed
Their plumes of blinding spray.

Amroth beheld the fading shore
Now low beyond the swell,
And cursed the faithless ship that bore
Him far from Nimrodel.

From helm to sea they saw him leap,
As arrow from the string,
And dive into water deep,
As mew upon the wing.

The wind was in his flowing hair,
The foam about him shone;
Afar they saw him strong and fair
Go riding like a swan.

But from the West has come no word,
And on the Hither Shore
No tidings Elven-folk have heard
Of Amroth evermore.[/center]
- From ‘Song of Nimrodel’ by Tolkien</font>

Edited by: Fe

09/Dec/2009, 01:50 AM
Húrinstepped off the ship and onto solid ground. The ship made berth in the harbor created by the Elven-folk who had inhabited this area in Ages past. His shining grey eyes swept around the landscape, taking in the local market and village that was built around the harbor. With the departure of the Elves, the natives of the area gradually returned and resumed their lives as fisher-folk. </span>Húrinlingered a little while longer on the dock, taking a look out at the sea. The waters today were somewhat choppy and rough, and white foam crested each wave that rolled in and crashed against the rocks. And beyond all of that, he knew that that was where the Undying Lands were. They sounded like a really nice place to stay at, but </span>Húrinwouldn't make the mistake of trying to reach them. It wasn't his fate to dwell in Aman, but to pass on to some other fate. A fate that higher powers had dictated for him from the beginning of the World.</span>The wind made his cloak flap in the wind, and with that, </span>Húrincould taste the saltiness of the sea. Licking his lips, he shook his fair black hair out of his face and turned around on his heels.</span></font>

</font>It had taken the crew several days to sail to Edhellond. They were mainly here to do some trading with the fisher-folk. Húrinhad decided to tag along in order to learn more about the lands surrounding him. And he also knew that this area was once inhabited by Elves, and Húrinwished to see some of the influences they left behind. Pulling his cloak a little tighter around himself, he strode down the dock, and made for the village and market up ahead. It was just a small village, but judging by the quality of life, Húrinassumed that they were a quite well-off and prosperous village. Two officious looking men stood guard at the entrance of the dock. The harbor master had given them permission to dock their ship in the harbor and even as he walked, he knew that the two up ahead would question him before allowing him to pass. Húrinstopped before the men and reached into his cloak. The men were of average height and they had black hair and brown eyes. Judging by their stature, Húrinjudged them not to be men of Dol Amroth, but rather some of the native employed by Dol Amroth. Passing his document along to them, he waited to be permitted. When the pair noticed his family seal, they handed him back his papers and immediately allowed him in. Húrin'sfamily were well-known mariners and admirals, and their crest was easily identified by most people in the region. Nodding his head politely at the two, he swept into the market, his cloak flapping around his ankles.</font>
</font>The town was built around a fountain of water. As he walked past, the melodious tinkling of the water in the fountain was soothing and pleasant to the ear. Smiling slightly, he took a look around him. Wooden buildings reared up on either sides, completely surrounding him. Some candles shone from the windows of inns, and he could hear voices drifting out of some of the open windows. Húrinlearned that the best place to meet locals and villagers was in the pub. After a hard day's work in the open sea, most men would visit the pub for a refreshing drink and perhaps share a story or two with their fellows. His shining grey eyes finally alighted on the local inn, his feet already moving towards it. Pushing the heavy wooden door open, he slipped inside quickly. Húrinhad a feeling he wouldn't be doing anyone a favor if he left the door wide ajar, allowing the chilly wind to rush inside. It was warm and loud and smelled like fish. That was his first impression as the blur around him slowly resolved into a more distinct pattern and rhythm of people. Some people had turned their heads to look up at him, wondering what winds blew a man of Dol Amroth down to their lands. Húrinsmiled politely at anyone who happened to look his way, making for an open table near the window. Pulling the wooden chair aside, he took a seat. For the moment, he was content to just sit there and let other people's conversations wash over him. His companions should follow him to the pub and join him for some seafood chowder and perhaps wine.</font>

17/May/2010, 03:19 PM
A Farewell to Middle-Earth</span></font>
Fourth Age 10http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v672/Pellaadari&#111;n/Celeblas1.gif
The tall elf leapt deftly from the bulwark onto the the stout dock, making no noise as his soft boots made contact with the thick, oaken boards. Gulls circled overhead, buffetted ever upwards by the rising thermals which rose upon the cliff face, and their distant cries drifted to his keen ears. The sea-air was filled with the tang of salt, which tickled his nostrils. There was wood-smoke also, no doubt from further inland, from the settlement high above the docks, likely from the quarters of the men who had made their homes amongst the elves of Edhellond. The wind whipped at his long locks, and he brushed it from his eyes with long and slender fingers.</font>
</font>There was Dilloth, awaiting his arrival and standing further up the quay. His hand was raised in greeting, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing upon his thin lips. A humble greeting from a close friend, two elves separated by two decades of history past.</font>
</font>Dilloth stood easily upon the pier, his slender form seemingly unaffected by the gales of sea-wind which swept in from the south-west.</font>
</font>'</font>Ni meren an ngovaded vîn, Celeblas.' </font></span>called Dilloth, his smile widening as Celeblas strode briskly towards him, replying as he approached,</font>'</font>Suilannon achen Dilloth,Lû and gwannant.'</font></span>
</font>Dilloth extended his hand as Celeblas drew near, and the arriving elf took hold of it, his hand on Dilloth's wrist and Dilloth's hand on that of Celeblas. A warrior's handshake, a more common courtesy amongst the men of the north than the eldar. But Celeblas and Dilloth had spent many years amongst the warriors of Gondor and Arnor, and just as Elvish culture had shaped that of men, the same could be said of some mannish tradtiions passing unto those elves who lived and warred amongst mortals.</font>
</font>'</font>Gîl síla erin lû govaded vîn.' </font></span>Laughed Dilloth with genuine warmth, turning from the sea to lead Celeblas up the stone-carved steps which lead to a great height above the docks, and to the ancient Elf-Haven above...</font>

Edited by: Pellaadarion