"A weed grows, where sown it was not" - a Middle Earth AAR

[Sabratha]

Saruman the White to Gandalf the Grey and Radagast the Brown
11 Lothron, of the year 1968 of the Third Age (10309 IGY)​

I traveled to the edge of Mirkwood myself and even ventured into the forest. There is certainly something ominous about this land. The shadows and thin wash of dawn seemed thicker than mere light and the absence of light. While I had not ventured into the innermost stratum of this black and green abyss they call Dol Guldur, I had managed to capture one of the servants of the enemy. As with all orcs, his spirit was weak. I kept him suspended in helplessness for some time until he stopped struggling and accepted his fate. Only the finest particles of valor made it all the way over the furthest edges of his consciousness. In the end, he told me all he had stored in his squirming little mind. Which is why I wanted to come here myself - who else but the three of us knows the foul tongue they speak? Well, us and Sauron of course, but I digress.
What the Orc told me was that for many years he serves a master of Dol Guldur, terrible in might and cruelty, yet lesser to the one that came before him.

Thus, either this orc was old enough to remember Morgoth, which I find entirely unlikely, or the power that now rules Dol Guldur is not Sauron, but merely one of his captains. I'm very much leaning toward that second interpretation. While I have no solid proof, this place does not seem to have the signs I would expect to see if Sauron himself was here.

Now when it comes to the other dark land, I had sent one of my sentries to the land of Nurn, but I have not heard from him since. I can only assume he must have failed in his quest. Perhaps I shall need to go there myself as well. As to your theory about the events in Nurn, I remain skeptical. The only story that I came upon is the one about the mythical Noldo woman who was said to hate the light of Arien and resided long ago in Mûmakan. Very fanciful and entirely unbelievable tale.

Now, I am eager to hear more about the war waged by the Free Peoples of the north against the orcs of Gundabad. Please write to me about any outstanding events that take place there. I understand that you are giving them all the aid that can be offered, but the war has been going on for long 7 years and I can't fathom how much longer can these mountain orcs drag this on.

 

[Sabratha]

Excerpt from "Memoir of the old days" by Captain Thurin Redhelm of Kirithgal
21 Norui, of the year 1968 of the Third Age (10309 IGY)​

I've made my way through the crowds on the streets of the capital. All around people were shouting, singing, clapping their hands to the tune of flutes and drums. The summer solstice festival was in full swing, fire-eaters and musicians everywhere. In the evening the city would be lit up by hundreds of small straw bundles set alight, then ceremonially put out with a bucket of water from the lake. Water vanquishing the flame, the ultimate symbol of Nurniag victory over the orcs.

Everyone was gathered in the royal gardens, the strange bright red flowers were in bloom. She calls them sercësar, she planted them many moons ago and explained that they come from some land in the west. The Queen and spymaster Thurendur both in work clothes, wearing large farmer sunhats made of dried reeds.

"Well, here I was thinking this is a royal banquet but all I see are a few country bumpkins!" joked Volodar and everyone had a hearty laugh at that.
"I'm almost sad to leave the street party, so much good beer and good music. And so many pretty girls too!"
- "Don't choose a wife during a festival", said the little khandish scribe girl. Everyone looked at her, blushing she explained: "Just a folk saying from Khand". Everyone laughed again, but then the discussion turned towards politics.

- "I have no idea why Gondor won't contribute even 1/8th of their forces to the war against Gundabad. That would be 10,000 men, with that the war would be won".
- "Yes, that sounds about right. Our estimates indicate the kingdom could field a huge 80,000 army if they so desired." I added.
- "If I had been born the ruler of Gondor, I'd have conquered the world." said the queen.
- "It is good that you weren't born queen of Gondor though. You liberated us, delivered us from thralldom so now we can be masters in our own homeland."
- "I did no such thing", she said calmly. Then asked me: "Thurin, how many orcs did I kill during the uprising? Personally."
- "None I believe"
- "What you say is true. And in how many battles had I personally taken command?"
- "None, you always delegated command to me or the other captains".
- "I have not liberated you, you have liberated yourselves. With your own hands and arms you delivered your families and the whole land from bondage. I merely told you that a war of liberation is possible and achievable. You did the rest."
- And yet you say that you would conquer the world if you had been with the Gondorians? What would be the difference?"
- "There is no difference. I would have told them that conquering the world is possible. They would do the rest".

"Speaking of Gondor", added the spymaster Thurendur. "There was a Gondorian man who tried to enter the realm as a merchant two moons ago. Unlucky for him, he bumped into a real merchant from Nurn who realized this strange traveller knows nothing about the local markets. Fair enough we identified him as a spy, apprehended him and released him at the borders of Gondor. After giving him a good beating of course and giving him a very fair warning of what will happen if we see him again.

Of course, he tried again and our patrols captured him as he was trying to cross the border in the mountains. Well, this time I made sure that a most unfortunate misadventure would befall him. I guess he accidentally fell into a mountain spider web and thus perished. Such are the dangers of travelling around Mordor - that's what I'm going to tell any Gondor envoys should they ask about his sad fate. There was really no way I could release him again, nothing could be done. They just kept sending him to his doom.

At the end of the day, it just feels sad. One more life lost with no good reason, a pawn lost in a game of chess. All these players - the princes, kings and lords, like us they are all just children of Arda."

"Not all", replied the queen.


That last remark cut all merriment short, as if with a knife. Silence that fell afterwards lingered a bit too long for anyone to feel comfortable.


AUTHOR'S NOTES:

• In case it is not entirely clear, the spy mentioned here is the same one Saruman wrote about in his letter
• Sercësar - "stone-blood" in Quenya. Yes, there is a reason they are using quenya, this is not a mistake on my part.

 

[Sabratha]

Gaujahari of the Brownlands to Frumgar of Eotheod
3 Gwaeron, of the year 1969 of the Third Age (10310 IGY)
​

The Wealda of Bruneard greets the Wealda of Eotheod.

I am afraid this time the tidings i bringeth to thee shall beest of most wondrous import and nay less worry to thee.

We has't hath taken reports yond the Gondorian forces has't evacuated their part of southern brownlands. This sounded very improbable and yet mine own men did manage to confirm this.

All the men at arms of Gondor hath left and the border is entirely unguarded. Something is very, very wrong.

Be thou hailed!

Elmagil of Edhellond to Lady Nimrodel of Lórien (excerpt)
5 Gwaeron, of the year 1969 of the Third Age (10310 IGY)​

(...) From my tower I could see the royal ships on the other side of the bay. The king's men set them ablaze so that they would not fall into the hands of the barons, as the Pelargir and Lossanarch militias have all risen up to oppose the mad King. The fires raged all night.

Excerpt from "Memoir of the old days" by Captain Thurin Redhelm of Kirithgal
10 Gwaeron, of the year 1969 of the Third Age (10310 IGY)
​

I found the queen weaving, as usual when she is not in her garden. After I told her the news from Gondor, she sighed and simply muttered: "How easy it is to tear asunder what was never united." (...)

A REPORT:
FROM:Agent "Zagar"
TO: Necromancer of Dol Guldur
DATE: 11 Gwaeron, of the year 1969 of the Third Age (10310 IGY)​

King Aldamir's attempt to imprison prince Thurmacil of Lebennin has failed. The prince rose in rebellion, this triggered many other barons to support him and rise up against the king. The country split roughly in half and civil war broke in Gondor. The rebels will not stop until the 'mad king's as they called him is deposed.

Eúrnil to Calimmacil (Excerpt)
DATE: 12 Gwaeron, of the year 1969 of the Third Age (10310 IGY)​

So it had finally come to this: A second kin-strife. We either defeat the mad king, or it will be our necks. (...)



AUTHOR'S COMMENTS:
There we have it, civil war in Gondor. Things might get really violent in the southern kingdom. Meanwhile the Eotheod and the Brownlands are still fighting against the Gundabad invasion. Angmar's truce with Arthedain has expired. For the first time since the start of the playthrough things are really looking bad for the free peoples.

 

[Sarwan88sadin]

Civil War in Gondor. This is really messed up. Whatever happens, I just wish that Minohtar manages to ascend the Throne.

 

[Sabratha]

Lord Orendur of Brethil, one of the commanders of the rebel armies of Gondor to his son Orendurion
14 Gwirith, of the year 1969 of the Third Age (10310 IGY)​

Dearest son!

I had not perished, I am well.


The army of the mad king was swiftly approaching from the south, eager to crush us, considering us mere rebels. They placed themselves squarely between us and Minas Anor. There was no way to avoid battle now.

We had been placed in the very center of the army, on our right were the spearmen of Lossir, on our left were the forces of Dol Amroth, including massed archers very well positioned on the top of a small hill. We formed our lines four ranks deep, my men well armored and well armed. The best infantry in the realm save only for the guard of the fountain.

As the battle began, I saw little due to the dust. I heard what must have been hundreds of horsemen clash somewhere on our right flank and then a mass of infantry clashed with our spearmen just to my left. Some of my men were eager to press forward and join the fray. "Stand fast! Don't brake ranks!", I shouted knowing that there must be enemy units straight in front of us waiting for disorder among us. And soon enough a regiment of javelinmen appeared right in front trying to skirmish with my men, but their lack of armor and small shields left them too exposed. The Dol Amroth archers from the hill now let loose a deadly volley and the enemy javelinmen were mowed down. The few that did make it close enough to my line to throw their projectiles did us little damage. Undaunted we held the center and just as I started thinking we might avoid heavy combat entirely in this battle, I heard that noise.

A low rumbling noise that grew louder and louder each second. All of us quickly realized this was a cavalry charge going straight for us:. "Close ranks, brace yourselves!", I shouted.

Then they emerged from the dust cloud - the best knights of the realm, armor clad on their huge warhorses with the great royal banner of Gondor above them. The White Tree emblazoned on pure sable. I realized this was the king's own guard, the most dangerous cavalry in all of Gondor, trying to brake our center and win the battle in one major thrust. I sincerely believed that this will prove to be the last sight I shall ever see. But the Dol Amroth archers again fired their arrows and I saw several horses fall, the men tumbling down under the hooves of the riders behind them. The King's guard disorganized smashed into our lines no longer forming a perfect wedge. And yet even in this disorganized state their charge was deadly. Our entire first rank disintegrated on impact, the men cut down in mere seconds. Undaunted, the charging knights crushed through your second row and collided with our third rank just meters in front of me. But the third row held fast, declining to give ground to the royal knights.

My men managed to stop the impact of the royalist charge, then we fought them hand to hand.

A longsword split open the head of the man on my left - helm, skull and all. I thrust my spear right into the neck of the horse, killing it instantly. The knight fell and one of my men rushed forward and struck him with an axe before he could get up. Three timed did he strike him until we saw blood flowing from the helmet. We stayed their charge, but were now fighting for our very lives. The man on my right was struck down with an iron mace and dying he fell onto me and we both rolled onto the ground. The horseman now turning around to fight three more on my men.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, the horsemen of Lebennin and Dol Amroth won their cavalry fight on our far left and had now made a countercharge into the flank of the Royal ranks, which were exposed as they were still engaged with my spearmen. Just as I got up and was struggling to free my sheld from beneath the fallen soldier's corpse, I saw the line of royal knights weave, then falter, then fall back. The great royal banner with the White Tree swayed, then fell on the ground. The horses trampled it into the mire.

That was the beginning of the end. The royalist charge failed and with it died the hopes of the enemy army. I looked around and saw the remnants of my regiment standing amidst dead bodies of horses and men. Nobody cheered, nobody shouted insults. We stood in silence broken only by a few cries of the wounded and the dying. We had won, but I shall never forget seeing the royal banner trampled into the mud. It was a sickening sight.

On the next day after the battle we received news that Angmar attacked Arthedain. Thus the Great Enemy strikes our brothers in the North exactly at the time when we are embroiled in this dreadful kin-strife and could offer no aid. Sad, dreadful news indeed.


Yet I had not perished, I am well and in a short time I hope to see you again!

 

[Sabratha]

Excerpt from the "The Book of the Crags":​

(...) Thus had gathered the council of the land of the Lake to decide whether or nor they should aid the Kingdom of Arthedain, wage war on the servants of Sauron and march on Barad-dur itself. The Queen deferred the decision to her council members, her administrators and advisors and scribes. She did so, for she alone knew something of the Doom of the East.


First spoke Volodar and said: "Who cares what happens over in Arthedain or in Gondor? We need to consider the fate of our own lands and be mindful of what happens here in Mordor. In the citadel of Barad-dur dwells one of the boys of the Grand Fusspot himself. Eyeing our lands, watching, waiting. Is this not alone a reason to strike while most of the power of the wraith is occupied with their war in the north?"

Second spoke Thurin, the captain and regent of the Kingdom. "How can we not care about what the men in Gondor think? For great is the power of their realm. Yet fearful and supicious they are of us, just as they will be of any power that arises in Mordor. The shadow of the enemy lies heavy on these lands and this is why we cannot make any moves that would make the men of Gondor think that we are trying to put on the mantle of the Enemy. Barad-dur is a mighty symbol and if it falls to us, every ear in Middle-Earth will hear of it. "

The third to speak was Gadas, "Wise words captain Thurin! To those words I will add that we have no obligation to help the men of Arthedain. For what aid have they ever offered us? What good did their ancestors do after defeating the Grand Fusspot in the days of yore? None! They just went back to their homes leaving the men of Nurn to rot under the yoke of the orcs. When we raised the flags of our rebellion, did any from the west come to our aid? None had come. We have no reason to help them now."

Then spoke the others, some in favor and some against the war. The opinions swayed back and forth and the council was divided in half until all of them voiced their opinion, save only for the only one of them remained. And thus the Doom of the East came to rest in the hands of a lowly scribe and translator whose name was Sharin, which in the tongue of Khand means "tick".

"I was born a slave, so was my mother and my two sisters. None of my family survived to see the light of freedom, save me alone. It is true the men of the west never came to our aid, never struggled to relieve our suffering, never tried to brake our chains. Oh how many times I had cursed them! How many times in my heart I had said: 'It would not be like that with us, our people would never be like this.' Now is the time we decide that. If there ever will be a time when Gondor would swallow their fear and their pride in the face of us marching on Barad-dur, it is now. For this will not be some minor border war, this will be the war of Free Peoples of Middle Earth against our common foe. How can Gondor protest our actions if we will be waging war to help their own kin in Arthedain?

None of my family lived to see the light of freedom, save me alone. But in my heart I knew that I will live to see the men of the East drive the orcs out of Barad-dur. I will see the whole of the land liberated. Death to the slavers, woe to the enemies of the Land of the Lake! I say: let us have war!"

Some say the entire hall erupted in many voices and that even the guards and the servant maids participated in the cheering. Thus the Doom of the East was sealed. They say that the fate of all Arda sometimes pivots on small moments such as this one.


Author's note:
A rare example of a "chronicle" entry, but I felt this was needed to contrast with the next one from our familiar narrator from Nurn,

 

[Sabratha]

Excerpt from "Memoir of the old days" by Captain Thurin Redhelm of Kirithgal
18 Gwirith, of the year 1969 of the Third Age (10310 IGY)​

The hall erupted in cheers, but the eyes of the queen were bleak and empty like those of a mountain spider. Something was very wrong and I knew we had to speak in private, just the two of us.

- "Was it wise to let the khandish scribe take part in the proceedings? Her voice ended up being the decisive one, yet she's a foreigner and a mere child. Why have you brought her here?"

- "First of all, she speaks fluent Khandish, Haradrim, Nurag, Nurniag and the tongues of the west, including that of the Black Numenoreans. That alone makes her worth her weight in gold. Secondly, she was used by her former masters to copy letters, which means she is not only familiar with the way they write, she can tell their signatures from one another. Perhaps even forge them. If we are to go to war against Sauron, we need to keep the kings of the south occupied and confused. She will of course do everything she can to help us, as there is nobody she hates more than the kings of Harad who maimed her."

- "That too worries me."

- "She tried to escape the life of slavery three times. After the first attempt they had beaten her senseless. The second time they marred fer face. The third time they cut off her leg so she could escape no more."

- "This means she is stubborn and foolhardy".

- "This means she loves freedom above all other things. Don't you think this is exactly the type of person we need? That's the reason why I chose you to be the regent. You too love freedom above all things."

- "Perhaps, but honestly I'm concerned by these men of Khand. They ascribe divinity to you."

- "Yes, some of her people do. Yet they also consider Earendil to be a god. They have so many gods... every mountaintop and lake in Khand has its own little god or goddess."

- "They also consider Tumrakhi to be a god. That's why I find all of them so disturbing."

- "Many people in the east at some point considered Sauron a god, or a demon. The line between gods and demons can be quite murky, don't you think?"

- "I wish you wouldn't use his name. Not to draw his attention like this. Not here."

- "Fine, fine I can call him the old fusspot like every good Nurniag child does. Though we will soon go to war against Barad-dur itself, don't you think that will draw his attention more than anything else we could do or say? We need to face the simple fact that he will never leave us alone, not here, not in Mordor. This is his home and he will try to reclaim it. Sooner or later."

- "I will obey your commands, you rule the Land of the Lake. But this doesn't change my mind - joining the war against Sauron at this time is too risky. Cannot Arthedain and their Gondorian brothers handle this themselves?"

- "Hither lands lie mangled, Mordor Khand and Nurn have been maimed. Now the same fate will befall Arthedain. The great tapestry of life has been torn. Is it insolence and folly beyond reckoning on the part of the a weaver to pick up the threads? The strong sit and hearken and dwell in bliss, while pain and suffering subdue the men of these lands. Is it insolence and folly beyond reckoning on the part of the weaver to pick up the threads?"

- "Not for me is to decide these matters. But one thing is clear - a healer that works with the mishaped, raw wounds will not emerge clean, but covered in blood."

- "No one can plant a willow, without digging in the dirt. No one can remain unmarred while dealing with the marred. Yet idle pity that refuses to deal with the marred is not pity at all."

At this point she was no longer speaking in her usual voice. Instead she fell into that slow metallic chittering voice - as she was want to do when scorn and anger arose in her heart. Slow she was to anger, but dreadful in her ire. She continued talking staring somewhere into the horizon in the west.

- "Pity by those who look in idleness from the height of their own strength and wisdom is no longer pity. It is contempt. Likewise wide is the gap between patience and idleness. For patience is the art of waiting to act only once one has enough strength to accomplish the task, while causing the least possible carnage and devastation. Patience devoid of intent to act timely, is no longer patience. The intent to act without the least regard for the suffering of others is not patience. Indeed, it then turns into malice, cowardice or foolishness!" She paused and then hissed: "Or all three at the same time!"



I no longer knew if she was speaking about Men of Gondor, Men of Angmar, the Valar, or perhaps about Sauron himself. I did not feel it would be wise to ask her who she meant.

Thus I left her to her frantic letter-writing. So many diplomatic letters had to be sent. To Arthedain, to Gaujahari, to Minohtar, to both of the warring factions in Gondor, to all the kingdoms in the south...
She was again weaving. A web of words.

 

[Sabratha]

Nardacil, commander of the guards of of Minas Ithil to Minohtar
1 Lothron of the year of the year 1969 of the Third Age (10310 IGY)​

As ordered, I rode out with my mounted regiment to observe the army of Nurn on the march. This did not prove a difficult task.

They had brazenly marched as close as possible to the border with unfurled banners among the sound of drums and flutes, as if to show us all their might. The message was clear: "While you are busy killing one another, we are marching to defend men from the servants of Sauron. Once slaves, we are now the masters of this land."

And so they marched past, dense ranks of infantry with pikes and bardiches, then the horse archers of khand with their furs, conical caps and curved bows. Next came the heavy cavalry clad from head to toe in that black-greenish sauronic armor, followed by huge siege engines pulled by teams of 18 oxen each. Then came the foot archers and even more heavy infantry. There must have been some two dozen thousand strong in total, all amidst the rumbling sounds of enormous drums. I knew there is a man beneath each armor, but in truth the army appeard not unlike that of armored orcs accompanied by eastern allies. Almost as if Mordor was marching out to fight itself.

Yet then the drums fell silent and a single khandish highlander started playing a strange, doleful tune on a flute made of apricot wood. How sad and yet affectionate was that tune, like the wind over the desolate desert! Grief-striken but beautiful, as if the sum of all the sorrows of the men of the east was poured into the tune. No orc could ever produce such music, these really were the free peoples of middle earth.

All of a sudden one of my men rode forward waving his cap, then another and before I realized what was going on my whole regiment was waving and cheering. "Good luck! Show the orcs some steel! On to Barad-dur! Glory to the men of the Lake!" Our trumpeter began to play a joyful lossnarch victory song, which prompted the marching ranks of nuriangs to begin cheering in response. Soon enough every one of my men felt eager to himself take up arms and march with them on Barad-dur.

Truly, strange and mighty is the power of music that is able to fill the hearts of men with such madness.

 

[Sabratha]

Radagast the Brown to Saruman the White
3 Lothron of the year of the year 1969 of the Third Age (10310 IGY)​

I think both you and Mithrandir have, as you often do, underestimated my ability to solve this riddle. But solve the riddle I did and I did so by looking at the tiny plants beneath our feet. I doubt you would take the time to stop and look down, but I had.

There is this strange red flower that grows in Nurn you see. They say that at first it used to grow only in the palace gardens, but over the years it has spread beyond the walls and now you can find it on hills and crags many miles outside the City of the Lake. I had sent one of my feathered messengers over there, to Mordor to the land of the lake. Where your envoy has failed, mine succeeded in his task. He brought a few seeds - these I planted and they grew fine indeed. Now I'm sending you this dried petal so you will see with your own eyes what we are dealing with.
To be absolutely sure, I took one of these flowers to the Elves of Lorien. They were mighty surprised to see it as they have not seen one like this for over 5 400 years. A red flower like the one that used to grow on Amon Rûdh. Their Quenya name is Sercësar, but the Sindar call it Seregon - the bloodstone.
I think you know what this all means. There is more than red flowers in Nurn.

The orcs are mere constructs of Morgoth, tools without a unique will of their own, this is why she had driven the orcs away - for there was no easy conduit for her to influence them.

But the men of the East and the men of Nurn are different, thus Sauron had to use different means to make them fit his plans. Little by little over the long years of his rule he nudged and prodded and melded them so they would be accustomed to his constant presence. They all became used to obeying a will that would tower over them and that could warp the fabric of reality itself around it. They would obey his will and follow the commands of his hand. When he was defeated and his spirit left this land, they must have felt confused, startled and alone, fending for themselves amidst the mindless brutality of the orcs.

Sauron held the land in a stranglehold and he locked it's doors securely before he left. But we can now clearly see that there was another key that would fit that lock.

Now in Mordor there is again a will and a hand.

There is more than red flowers in Nurn. A weed grows, where sown it was not.

 

[Sarwan88sadin]

So we come back to the 'Weed'

 

[Sabratha]

So we come back to the 'Weed'

Exactly. Took us awhile, but we are getting to some larger inflection points within the game. For some reason the game decided to throw quite a bit on us in 1969 of the Third Age, after a period of a few more quiet years.

 

[Sabratha]

A REPORT:
FROM:Agent "Zagar"
TO: Necromancer of Dol Guldur
DATE: 28 Lothron, of the year 1969 of the Third Age (10310 IGY)​

As expected the fractured bands of Orcs spread across Gorgoroth were able to field barely 10 000 warriors, while the Witch is leading some 25 000 men. Fear is quickly spreading among the garrison of Barad-dur, regardless if they flee or decide to stand and fight, the fortress will not be able to hold out. The Gondorians control Morannon and even during their civil war they won't let any reinforcements from Guldur pass into Mordor. As I reported previously, there will be no military solution against Gondor or the Witch using the local forces. The situation in Barad-dur is hopeless and there is no way that it will hold out for more than a month or two at most.

The situation in Gondor is further destabilizing, the King's army suffered another defeat and is falling back south. The forces of the barons are expected to enter the white city in two weeks or so. Agent "Artanel" is already with the army of the barons and I trust she will provide detailed reports soon.

The road is long and victory will not come quick, but I will continue to try to sow discord in Gondor and try to play the barons against one another. Just as I always have.

 

[Sarwan88sadin]

If the Mad King gets deposed, will Minohtar be placed on the Throne by the Rebel Lords?

 

[DeathLawlie]

While the fool men of Gondor kill themselves in a meaningless civil war, the free people of the Lake are the only one to stands against evil !
Glory to the men of the Lake !

 

[Midnite Duke]

Thank you for this wonderful work. I am fully caught up. I may not be the target audience as I have not read Tolkien for over forty years, but interesting someone like me is your greatest tribute. Tolkien aficionados are easy.