[piosenniel]

PLACED ON DISCUSSION THREAD ~*~ PIO


The Perky Ent’s character:

NAME: King Telumehtar, 28th King of Gondor

AGE: 178

RACE: Human

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Telumehtar carries a three foot long sword handed down by his father Tarondor in TA 1700. Its hilt is wrapped in a soft leather grip, and the sword is relatively light to wield, compared to the sword of the regular Gondorian soldier. Besides his ceremonial sword, Telumehtar also carries a shorter, more worn sword, which Telumehtar had used ever since he was thirty. Along his belt, Telumehtar has several throwing daggers. As for armor, Telumehtar’s helm is of kingly proportions, bearing a large set of wings in the back, and a golden noseguard in the front. In front of his green tunic, Telumehtar wears an elegant hauberk, covered by a ruby red leather vest. For his legs, he wore an embroidered hose, covered by greaves. His leather gloves are lined with silver paint; his pauldrons and vambraces depicted the white tree under the stars. Above all his armor he wears the tabard of the white tree. On ceremonious occasions, he wears the Crown of Gondor on his head.

APPEARANCE: A man of substantial stature, Telumehtar stands tall at six feet seven inches. He stands poised, and has a kingly look about himself in public. His matted hair is brown, as are his eyes. His brow is wrinkled, but only from age. Telumehtar is a lean man, weighting as much as an average person (exclude his weight when in armor). As a king, he represents Gondor, and therefore keeps very clean and tidy. Of markings that would be of note, he bears a small scar on his left forearm that he believes was the plague’s effect on him.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: When it comes to his family, Telumehtar is very down to Earth. He is very caring and shows particular courtesy, condescending no one. A strong man, he is fairly agile, and thinks well under pressure. However, since he was a child, he has always had a mild case of claustrophobia, which has been a problem that has haunted him for quite some time, since he is the king of Gondor. He is fairly intelligent, and occasionally witty, yet he relies a great deal of his decisions to his right hand man, Menelcar. His weak point is his forearm, where he bears the scar of what he believes is the plague’s effect on him. When touched, it causes mild pain through his left arm. It his for this reason that he keeps his arm well armored.

In terms of his proficiency with weapons, Telumehtar is an awful shot when it comes to archery. He never had a passion for bows and arrows, and therefore never gave much interest to it. His skills with a blade are of kingly proportion, having spent many decades training in the ways of the blade. He is not an aggressive person, unless in a long fight where he will continue to increase his effort. Telumehtar never was much of a runner, but more of a sprinter, saving his energy for close fights.

HISTORY: Born in TA 1632, he was only two years old when he heard his great uncle Telemnar speak of war with the Corsairs of Umbar. Ever since, he has had a natural hate for them. It was when he was six that he saw the plague ravage Gondor. Telumehtar stood under the arm of his father as he watched his great uncle die, and the White Tree wither. It was in this year, TA 1636, that Tarondor, the nephew of Telemnar, became king of Gondor, making Telumehtar heir to the throne of Gondor. Four years later, he grew sad when he watched the king’s house move to Minas Arnor, as he had grown fond of Osgiliath, and didn’t want to leave. It was in this year that a white tree grew forth again in Gondor, and Telumehtar witnessed his sowing.

For the next 170 years, Telumehtar grew strong, and learned much of the lore of his land. Particularly, he learned much of the ways of the sea, spending much of his time near the mouth of the Anduin, and of the coastal cities of Belfalas. On his 68th birthday, Telumehtar received the sword of his father, which was passed down from Minardil, being one of the only relics remaining from the battle where his grand father died. The sword was passed down to Minastan, as Telemnar believed his brother would have more use for it. While fighting his way through a band of hostile Haradrim, the sword found its way into the hands of Menelcar, one of the men fighting along side him. Upon this meeting, they forged a friendship that lasted all the way until the king’s passing.

It was in the next year, TA 1798, that Telumehtar’s father passed away, leaving the throne of Gondor to him. Telumehtar took the responsibility willingly, and ruled justly. For the next twelve years, Telumehtar was troubled with the Corsairs, who have been seen pillaging closer to the heart of Gondor each year. With the help of Menelcar, his trustworthy advisor, Telumehtar made the decision to go to war in TA 1810. It was in this time that he gathered his host, and the story begins…

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FIRST POST FOR THE GAME:

Tall ships and tall kings
Three times three
What brought they from the foundered land
Over the flowing sea?
Seven stars and seven stones
And one white tree

Telumehtar thought over the words, while he surveyed his lands. The view was always nice from the seventh tier of Minas Tirith. With the wind blowing his brown hair across his brow, he could see lands his fathers had defended hundreds of years ago. Many times in the passing days had Telumehtar considered his heritage. When times of great trouble came, he would walk to the edge, and contemplate his actions. During this time, none were allowed to walk the level, except for the guards constantly stationed by the tree. It was in this hour that Telumehtar looked long and hard across his land, watching his troops muster at the port of Harlond. In the deepest part of his heart, Telumehtar wished he was a lone sailor of the sea, for Telumehtar was a mariner at heart.

It was a quiet day. The citizens of Minas Tirith had been dreading the day for quiet some time after they heard that they would go to war. In homes, families were close and savored the time they had. Each day, Gondorians could see ships on the horizon, heading from far off lands. From Cair Andros to Dol Amroth, men had gathered to answer the call of war. Unlike tales of heroism and courage, the men of Gondor did not treat the Corsairs of Umbar like mindless orcs. Corsairs were a powerful force that required constant vigilance to be held back. Being pirates, they held no loyalty to any save themselves. But the pirates were not what scared the Gondorians, for they gave little heed to mindless brigands. It was the Black Numenorians, those corrupted by Sauron during the second age, that instilled fear in the very heart of Gondor. Just like the dunedain of Arnor, their numbers were rapidly decreasing, yet the remained the strength that their master had taught them long ago.

After meditating for quite some time, Telumehtar gave a sigh, and turned from the pinnacle. When he was a boy, his father would sing him songs of the Kings of Men, and their tree that stood on their island. It was from the story of the Akallabêth that Telumehtar learned to revere the sea and its power. But he was not meant to follow his hearts desire, as he was a descendant of the great kings of Gondor, and his fate was bound from his inception. When he turned his eyes to the White Tree, a sense of calm overtook him. Even after over a century of viewing it, the White Tree of Gondor was a sight. The sun’s light glistened on its branches perfectly, emanating beauty in its most radiant form. Telumehtar dared not touch it, a fear that he had held ever since he saw the death of the tree. “This is not a time for sorrow, for death smiles at us all.” Telumehtar said to himself as he walked away from the tree and smiled. “And all we can do about it is smile back”. He turned from the outdoors, and walked to his throne.

It was silent in his hall. The arrangements had been laid, precautions set, and edits degreed. The quiet was almost haunting, and it was for this that Telumehtar was glad when he heard whispers from behind him. Two men walked out from behind him, swords drawn. Without even registering the faces of the men, Telumehtar leaped from his throne and unsheathed his sword. In front of him, Telumehtar found none other than the Steward of Gondor, and his son Narmacil.

“Relax father. We are not here to usurp your authority.” Giving a slight chuckle, the steward added “Nay. In fact, we are here to make sure you are ready for the usurpers. Your son wanted to make sure you would stay on your toes. “Giving a cross look, Telumehtar slowly put his sword away. “When have I not been on my guard? Are you ready for my departure? As you should know, I am not much for goodbyes.” Narmacil nodded, and started to walk out of the hall. “I’ll have you know-“the steward interjected “That Arciryas sends his father his best wishes. Rest assured that he is safe in Annuminas. And I as well. I shall await your homecoming”. And with that, the steward and the heir left the room, and left Telumehtar to silence.

Telumehtar took a final look at his hall, and then marched slowly down the levels of the city. As he walked, groups of women and children parted to a side, creating a clear-cut path. One by one the gates of Minas Tirith opened, until Telumehtar found himself upon the second level. Taking a right at a forked path, Telumehtar walked over to a large building with smoke billowing through its windows. Telumehtar opened the doors, and watched as all the men in the room bowed their heads. “Is it time my lord?” a man in the front said to the king, raising his head. Telumehtar gave a slow nod, and all the men watched as the king walked to the center of the large room. Along the walls, weapons and armor were laid, and golden tapestries of battles were hung from the ceilings. Telumehtar was presented with his armor, which had laid in the building for many years. Slowly but strongly, Telumehtar equipped his gear and left the building. Mindorlonn, Telumehtar’s chestnut horse, was waiting for his master outside the armoury.

Fixing the crown upon his head, Telumehtar rode to the gates of Minas Tirith. Standing in front of an open gate, Telumehtar found a large group of mounted men waiting outside the city. Inside, a large cluster of people had gathered in a circle, engulfing Telumehtar within the entrance. Sweat started to pour down his face as Telumehtar started to cloister himself from his people. His horse, knowing him all too well, started to buck, bringing Telumehtar away from his claustrophobia. There, Telumehtar shouted, “People of Gondor! Fear not! The blood of Numenor shall be spilt this day, but it shall run black like their hearts! The corsairs will plague you no longer! For glory and Gondor we ride!” And with Minas Tirith roaring in triumph behind him, Telumehtar grabbed Mindorlonn’s reins, and rode out to Harlond.

Quickly Telumehtar came to the port, and found it filled with ships and men. Throughout the port, Telumehtar spied flags from all distant lands of Gondor. Telumehtar started taking a mental note in his head of the lands that had come to his call. “Dol Amroth, Anfalas, Lossarnach, Morthond, Pinnath Gelin. Good, good, good! We are almost ready to make war. Now if only I could find - “You rang? Do not think I would not be here before you left!” came a voice from behind Telumehtar. “Menelcar! Trusty as ever! We will have time for pleasantries later, but I have more important matters to attend to. Where are my men? Where are my captains? My soldiers? My kingdom?”