"Then King Felagund spoke before his people, recalling the deeds of Barahir, and his vow; and he declared that it was laid on him to aid the son of Barahir in his need, and he sought the aid of his chieftains. Then Celegorm arose amid the throng, and drawing his sword, he cried ‘Be he friend or foe, whether demon of Morgoth, of Elf, or child of Men, or any other living thing in Arda, neither law, nor love, nor league of hell, nor might of the Valar, nor any power of wizardry, shall defend him from the pursuing hate of Fëanor’s sons, if he take or find a Silmaril and keep it. For the Silmarils we alone claim, until the world ends.’"
“… in the days of the Long Peace, Finrod Felagund lord of Nargothrond journeyed East of Sirion and went hunting with Maedhros and Maglor, sons of Feanor” – The Silmarillion
I am quite pleased with the horses and the landscape. The lurchers don't quite have the awesome fluid elegance that I would like my paintings of lurchers to have. The people are... not utterly terrible?
Mereth Aderthad : Once More: With Feeling : 7687 words
Contains root vegetables, Elven politics, the powers of the princes of the Noldor, consideration of the Gimli Question, contrasting leadership styles among Elves, party planning, and background hobbits. Also, Maglor's thoughts on the whole 'when did Amrod die' issue, expressed somewhat forcefully.
Seeds of Lies: 10528 words
Maglor, returned to Aman with Elrond, makes new songs, gets drunk with Fingon and his aunt Lalwen, and runs into trouble with the Oath of Fëanor.
Not sure about the ending of this, but it was stupidly long already for a thing I didn't really mean to write.
Still rather surprised by the sudden appearance of all these words. The problem with writing Fourth Age Aman is that you have pretty much the entire cast of the Silmarilion, plus Frodo and Bilbo. So many characters, all with so much to say!
Come Home 6450 words.
Apparently I cannot get enough of Maglor being embarrassed about kinslaying, Elrond gently winding him up, and Finrod complaining tolerantly about Feanorians.
Love, Politics and Pastries 6327 words of Elrond, newly arrived in the West, and Celebrían in Tol Eressëa, discussing the House of Fëanor as pastries, and the Breaking of the World.
Aiya Eärendil Elenion Ancalima 5525 words in which Frodo Baggins and Maglor, son of Fëanor have a chance-encounter with Elrond's father on the shores of Tol Eressëa, take him back to meet Elrond and talk about song and stories. I suppose technically this is a post-LOTR story rather than a post-Silmarillion one, since Frodo has quite a large role, but I feel obscurely awkward about tagging it as LOTR. And I think it would not make much sense to someone who has not read the Silmarillion, whereas surely everyone who has read the Silmarillion has also read LOTR.
There seems to be a lot of chat and drinking in this series and not much actually happening!
5923 words of Maglor and Finrod rambling on about poetry, harp manufacture, first age Beleriand, Mandos, the current political situation in Tirion, hobbits, and whether kinslayers can be trusted. Not sure why I wrote it tbh. There must be some reason. Perhaps it will lead to something less rambling later?
To sheep other sheep no doubt appear different
A trader out of Wilderland travels down Anduin to Osgiliath, and makes a stop at Lorien. Also everyone is called Beorn.
500 word thing inspired by this line from Lord of the Rings, where Aragorn says “... light boats used to journey out of Wilderland down to Osgiliath, and still did so until a few years ago...” and then Boromir gives him a weird look because his definition of 'a few years ago' is a lot shorter.
I suppose in date this is really post-Lord of the Rings, but it's Silmarillion again in focus and personalities.
It's detectable with the lines on the tapestries, how far the camera is distorting the slight curve to the card after painting. It's very slight, but the camera makes it look almost like a bowl, and I have to cut the edges off. Perhaps a different lens, or dig out the scanner.
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I experimented with putting a border on these using software. I'm not sure it works. I think maybe I should put a border in paint on the actual picture.
Fëanor in the Halls of Mandos
5243 words, gen.
I'm still not convinced Fëanor did choose to go to the Halls of Mandos, because it just seems like the kind of place that he would absolutely hate.
I don't know when this turned into an All Silmarillion All The Time blog. I expect it will wear off eventually.
Finrod on the left, blond with a crown and jewellery, Maglor dark-haired in the middle (I did try to think if I could put a harp in there to show it was really Maglor, but there isn't a space for it and really, he can't have a harp in front of him ALL the time) and Hador on the right looking slightly worried.
As Pp says, these are not characters you tend to think of together, but there's no reason why not.
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I decided to do higher contrast on these pencil drawings so they would photograph a bit better, and also because I wanted to correct Lalwen's pose and Cirdan's beard a bit. You can get away with much less contrast for pencil lines if you are going to overpaint, I now realise, but if you actually want to see if the pencil sketch looks good on its own, you need to stick more pencil on there.
You know how sometimes you have a really clear image in your mind when you write a story? I managed to paint the image. Well, almost. The faces aren’t quite right. I can see them so clearly in my head, why can’t I get them on paper? *weeps* (The story was this one)
Though I do think that a week of intensively drawing and painting has helped. Now I just need to keep practicing rather than wandering off to mow the lawn. (though I'm starting to get scared of the lawn. There could be anything in there by now. Sometimes Brythen goes out and spends half an hour or more hunting in it. I don't think I want to know what he's hunting. I'm hoping it's just rabbits.
We headed up towards the Forge of Mount Tinang at last, pursuing Finculin, Ren the Unclean, and possibly even Sauron himself. The Numenorean siege outside had so far distracted the orcs of the mountain, but now we came under attack. We were climbing up the long winding stairs that went round and round the outside of a huge wide shaft, when we came under attack. Goblins had come out onto a walkway high above us and were firing arrows down at us.
One of the arrows hit Thrandin, our elderly Diplomatic Dwarf. He was knocked off the steps into the shaft, and plummeted down out of sight! Angruin ran back down the steps after him, and bless him, Prince Irimon did the same. Everyone else went up, after the goblins. But not all of them continued to go up. As we ran down, a body fell past us. Thingolodh had fallen too. Other bodies fell after him, like a rain of goblins!
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* I wish we'd thought of a clever way to do this, but I fear what actually happened was that we all got hungry and decided to just vote the wraiths banished so we could stop for dinner.
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We hauled him out of the well with a rope, set his legs, and popped him in the library to look after the prisoner, while we went off to the forge!
So we had won the help of a mighty Numenorean army, and the time had come to attack Angren!
Here are the mightly forces of Prince Fealasse rallying against the mighty cliff-fortress that is the only entrance to the mountain-fenced land of Angren. We had been repeatedly told how useless, ugly and generally incompetent Fealasse was, but if he really is that useless, then he has some pretty good subordinates. Either that, or Prince Fealasse is in fact one of these secretly-very-competent people who go around looking useless until the crisis comes, when suddenly they show their true talents.
So, there we were in the Numenorean colony of Ciryatanore.
Prince Irimon, the second in line to the Numenorean throne, looked a bit like his ancestor Elros (I'd met him, of course). He invited us to a banquet, which was excellent, and then we attended the Council of Ciryatanore. There were concerns expressed about the kingdom of Ibavi, which had suddenly decided to develop territorial ambitions and a professional army. Irimon wanted to respond to this by creating a voluntary League of Ciryatanore against them. Numenor seems to be getting a bit military in its approach to the rest of Middle-earth. Better Numenor than Sauron, I suppose.
Irimon then decided to take us to his tower where he likes to greet the sun. He has a palantir there, a huge one, one of the early Feanorian prototypes.( Read more... )
So there we were, all ready to carry out a secret back-door invasion of Ren the Unclean's fortress through the Mines of Mount Maan, while the Numenorean armies kept Ren busy by pelting him with trebuchets. Which I shall detail in the Next Part.
Dramatis Personae for this week:
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( Mastodons! Orcs! Whales! The River Kingdom of Ralia! And some inelegantly-slain trolls. )
TO BE CONTINUED