RolePlay 1 in Alqualondë

((The rp in Alqualondë is now the 4th Age of Tolkien's world, beyond the kinslaying, beyond the Lord of the Rings. Men walk the pathways of the world, and the evil one thought buried forever has again arisen, more virulent, more destructive than ever. Again the Ainu return, and Olwë and his Teleri are called upon to step forward into this new world and reunite their elven kin.))

transcribed by AelKennyr Rhiano

Olwë blushes and allows a small smile. "But I thought that was in remembrance of the dragon who once roamed Arda...before...his voice drops...the temptation. Do you mean that dragons exist, free of Melkor?" Olwë turns and casually looks over the peaceful home of the Teleri elves. suddenly, his eyes narrows, and he draws ina sharp breath. "No..it cannot be..."

The seas were calm, the tide coming in, and all in Alqualondë was quiet. Olwë stood upon the largers balcony of the palace looking over his beloved land, a strange disquiet upon his heart.

As his eyes roam over the sleepy swanhaven of the Teleri elves, he felt a coldness seize him...a chill that soaked to his bones as memories of persistent dreams flood him. Creatures...places, he has never seen before in his life has plagued his dreams and left him with a disquiet that will not leave him. So long since the kinslaying...so long since the Teleri have ventured forth..he bows his head as he remembers a sennight ago when the Ainu, Irmo, Lord of Dreams visited him in his palace.

Irmo began to melt away into a ball of light... Olwë dropped to his knees. "Great Lord," He says,

"Please, a question." The ball of light stopped its movement and a voice answered him. "Ask, firstborn."

"I have had dreams...troubling dreams... of things and beings I have never seen...What does it mean?"

There was a silence.

"You must again ride the swanships...seek the lost clans of elves...walk the paths of the world and learn of men.

Great chance is upon the world, and a darkness is awakening."

Olwë shakes himself out of his reverie...hears the soft padding of footsteps behind him... Slowly he turns and bows his head to the gentle Ainu Lindor Tel'Taure, of the house of Tilion...his eyes troubled.

"The dreams won't stop, my Lady. And now, each dream is filled with dragons...and elven kin in other lands, strange places."

Lindor looks over at Olwë as he watches over his land. With a worry for his welfare. As he turns around she sits down on the floor near him and nods back gently to the king. As he speaks of dragons and strange places, she looks a bit guilty at herself in her frequent dragonform and smiles a bit as much a sshe can. "Well Milord, dragons isn't so strange as much as you are around me. I tend to change forms regurly and alot are dragons." she answers friendly.

Lindor giggles a bit, sounding strange from her dragonform. "If they didn't, where would I get my inspiration from Milord?" She says gently to her dear friend. Then follows his gaze and smiles. "Right on time it seems." she says seeing the view.

A might roar is heard over Alqalonde as a dark shape enters the skies... a black dragon is over theSwan Harbour. Lower and lower it flies.. circling.. seeminly assured that no hidden danger lurks, the dragon lands...

Olwë whistles,and a large white swan descends.... mounting the mighty swan, given by Ossë, Lord of the Waves, he descends to the harbor, heart pounding painfully in his chest.

The dragon lets out a startled hiss as it notices a swan bearing a rider bearing down on her.. guardedly she watches them land. Olwë looks up at the dragon, eyes wide...speechless. The dragon's great nostrils flex as she snuffles the air, sensing the intent of the rider as he dismounts, searching for evil in his being. Olwë stands, motionless, his eyes taking in the large dragon before him...his palms suddenly sweaty, his knees trembling.. "I am Olwë of Alqualondë."

The dragon's eyes do not blink as she takes in the words of the rider... 'I have heard of you.", she says, tilting her head in thought. "I am Ithilia, of Arador. It is a pleasure to meet you." Ithiia bows gracefully as she greets Olwë.

Olwë gasps a little at her words. "You have heard of me?" His eyes search her face, her body language, but there is nothing menancing in her posture. "Ithila..." he whispers.."the name is so familar..."

Slowly Olwë sinks to his knees.."Greetings, fair Ancient."

The scales around the might dragon's muzzle twitch as though she is hiding a smile... "Indeed I have heard of you, when I was but a youngling still enslaved to Morgoth." Olwë gasps, looking up..."Blessed Eru..."

"But that was a long, long time ago, before the Great Rebellion, when those who believed in right defied him and escaped into exile. Still, I remember you were spoken of well."

Olwë slowly rises, his eyes wide and shining. Ithilia relaxes her great body down to the ground and seems at ease. "They said you have great kindness in your heart."

"I had hoped, had believed that he would not hold all the ancients...Blessed Eru, he did not." Tears springs to his eyes.

Olwë turns at the sound of a stranger approaching and smiles a greeting. "Welcome, my lord, to Alqualondë."

Ithilia hisses at the mention of dragons in captivity.. "We are deeper in spirit than even he could have thought. There were some who would never stand for his evil."

Olwë nods..his eyes still shining with tears. "My Lord Eru, this is Lady Ithilia."

Ithilia crooks an eyescale at the newcomer, "Greetings Lord Eru"

"I remember stories of ancients who remained free of Malkor's evil, and those who severe the chains."

"We have long been scattered in distant lands, but I have felt the need to return closer to Middle Earth and The Shining Lands. I have hope that at last we may put the past behind us and step out from Morgoth's shadow"

Olwë steps closer to the Ancient, his demeanor reverent... He stretches out a trembling hand and lightly touches her leg...closes his eyes and smiles. "Blessed am I to see this day

Ithilia lowers her head, eyeing the elf closely, her hot breath stirring his long silver hair.. "You are brave, Little One, to come so close to a Dragon"

Olwë looks up with a brilliant smile. "All my life, I wanted to see an Ancient. One free, one bold and strong and free of the darkness."

The scales on Ithilia's muzzle twitch again.. "Then you are either a dreamer of hope, or reckless. Few seek our kind out, their minds are usually too full of memories of the past."

Ossë notices the obvious presence of his kin, a large and un-voidable dark figure looking on the pale tile at the center of the city. He makes his way unawares, quietly pressing against the side of a nearby obstruction, peering with curiousity at this very unusual meeting.

Olwë blushes..." I have been called both with equal frequency."

Ossë grins, behind his cover, seeing the bright pink of the High-King's cheeck, even in this darkness and from this distance. He makes his way closer, as stealthily as possible. Ithilia suddenly snorts a puff of smoke over Olwë as she lets out a chuckle she can no longer hold back.. "then perhaps you and I shall get on well enough, elf, for the same has been said about I!"

"To have this moment..." his voice trails off. Olwë smiles. "It is as Irmo foretold."

A sudden movement catches the corner of Olwë's eyes, and quicker than thought, he shouts a warning and reaches for his sword. Sensing movement nearby Ithilia lifts her head and snuffles the air.

Startled, Ithilia launches into flight. Ossë silently curses himself for not being more discreet.... he takes a deep breath and changes into his awe-inspiring aqueous form, behind the cover of the stairs.

Olwë's eyes narrow, then the sword drops from his fingers, and he kneels. Ossë steps out from cover, laughing loudly with the mingling sounds of crashing waves and sea life "... Mighty kin! Do you fear even your own brother? Or is such a great beast even afraid of the call of the sea?"

Ithilia hovers just out of reach, watching the newcomer suspiciously. "is this how you greet Dragons in your land, Olwë? You keep them busy so another can sneak up and attack!" she roars down to him

Olwë looks up..." No, no...I swear to you.."

Ossë raises his hand, free from his trident, a glowing transparency of rushing water "Be calm! It is only Ossë, the Lord of the waves! I mean you no harm!"

Ithilia snorts cinders from her nostrils, clearly struggling to control the urge to throw fire.. "Afraid? I am afraid of nothing Wet One!" she shouts

Olwë unstraps his sheath and throws it down beside his sword. "I am unarmed..If you perceive deceit in me, take me as I kneel."

Ossë laughs louder still, a clamor of pounding foam gurgling from his throat. "I thought as much!"

A growl rumbling warningly deep in her chest, Ithilia lands, eyeing Olwë and Ossë with equal wariness. Ossë slowly moves from beside the great dragon, the rush of water striking land evident in his every step as he draines and reforms with every moment, a costant fluidity of sea water in the form of a man. Olwë does not move. With a final snort of capitulation Ithilia settles back down again. " I recommend you do not make a habit of sneaking up on Dragons O Puddle Maker, of you may end up steam rather than water. You are forgiven this time.

Ossë bends slowly, placing his hand on the shoulder of the protrate King, while his clothes remain dry even at this touch. His voice is the quiet murmur of the waves at night while he says peaceably "Arise, gentle king. There is no danger here tonight, as we I think do not mean harm to each other."

Olwë, slowly rises, turns and looks at the Lord of waves with widen eyes, whispers..."Lord Ossë, you've returned."

Ossë glances at the dragon with eyes that glow in a surreal fashion, a smile almost evident on his features "It is not often we see your kind here, on the lands of the sea. Forgive my curiosity if I wished not to display myself until such a time as it was necessary."

"This is Lady Ithilia," Olwë introduces, his voice soft, looking from the sea lord to the Lady Dragon.

Ithilia huffs a puff of smoke at Ossë as she replies, "It is understandable, perhaps, given the history of Dragons. But if you value your friend Olwë i'd not replicate that manoever. Next time I might well bite first and ask questions later!"

Ossë smiles in a sweet way at Olwë, tilting his head just lightly and saying with a sweet sincerity "I am not returned, kind King. I have always been here, even if just beyond your sight."

"Hiding, Watery One? Skulking perhaps?" Ithilia crooks an eyescale.

Olwë blushes and drops his gaze...."For so long after the kin....afterward, I looked to the sea and wondered if we would ever hehold you again."

Ossë holds up his empty hand "Now now, great Ithilia! I mean't no harm. I am not under the care of this King Olwë, it is in deed that he is in my care. For I have been paying close attention in these dark times, to be of any assistance if I may"

Ithilia begins pacing around Olwë and Ossë, her tail switching as she circles. "So you help while hiding? That is not the Dragon way, so forgive if I do not understand it."

"For so long, we have had only the presence of Lord Tilion." Olwë blushes as he speaks the name of the Ainu Guardian of the Moon.

Ossë's features turn somewhat cold, the water slowing as it moves along his form "It is but the way of the Ainu, such as myself, to hide so as not to interfere in the ways of the First Children, until such a time as our presence is necessary to aid them on their way! Are you in any way insinuating I have come here under dangerous and guileful desires? Do you DARE imply such of me?!"

Olwë lays a hand on Ossë's arm and speaks quietly. "Please, Lord Ossë. The noble One means no disrespect."

Ithilia continues her circling, her talons clicking on the pavers of the harbour as she moves.. "I dare anything Wet One. While you have been off in hiding it is Olwë and myself who have fought and LIVED the evil times. Felt every cut, mourned every loss. When you can say the same, THEN you may take offence at my words, but not until then!."

Olwë speaks softly. "The Teleri had the comfort of Ainur like you and Tilion, before the kinslaying, and Tilion afterward, but her people had noone."

Ossë's entire form seems to shudder visibly, even as the gentle hand presses against his arm which seems entirely solid beneath the touch. He takes a deep quiet breath, the light of his eyes pressing into a squint while he takes in the circling form of the black dragon. "And you again imply I am in some way lacking in your pain? Have I not suffered as the Children's salty tears join the stream of my domain? Have I not wept myself as they have lost and raised voluminous waves in joy at the exhaultation? I have been ever present here beside them, lending my support, aiding in their travels, willing only the greatest happiness on them and strife on those that would attack them!"

"But then, suddenly, nearly all of you vanished."

Ithilia cocks her head at Olwë's words. "Yes, you are right, Noble Elf, for we have been shunned by those of the shadow and those of the light. We live in a no-man's land, wanted dead by all. So what have to to lose? "

Ossë frowns, looking disturbed "I have my duties, which keep me here, tending your lot, King. Each their own to care for, and each their duty in this life until the end of times. I cannot be held accountable for them as they were not in my caring or my reach of power. It is sad indeed that they had no one, but they are stronger for this. Wiser for this. More graceful for this. I would not destroy these wonders from their being, if I had but to choose my own purpose since the dawn of Ainulindale!"

Olwë looks up at the great dragon, his eyes tearfilled and his voice soft, a little choked. " I hear the pain in your words, Noble Lady. Would I could undo the centuries."

Ithilia stops her pacing, coming to stand again in front of the two smaller forms in front of her.. "I dare you, Ossë, to take on the form of flesh and blood, and then speak to me of what you feel. For flesh and blood is what lives, what beats, what breathes. Take on Flesh and Blood and walk in our world as we do, then speak to me of your feelings. "

Ossë rest's his hand again on Olwë's shoulder, giving it a kind support were the King to need it at this time. He looks straight on at the large powerful beast, intoning with passion "Let there be no bad blood amongst our kind, Sister! For we are greatly in need of each other now, and disention will only make us weaker against the forces of darkness which are even now but making their way towards these lands!" Ossë seems to glower for a moment, silent. He takes this moment to consider and nods in a grave fashion "I will... I will. But of my own choosing and not merely for your sake!" Ossë summons a rush of water to devour his body, encasing the strong and deliate form of his watery guise, diguising him from all eyes for the moment.

Olwë turns his head to look at Ossë, his body tensing. Ithilia lets her great body collapse back to the ground again, hearing a couple of the pavers crack beneath her weight as she does so.. She lets out a great sigh.. " You are right, Wet One.. there should be no dissention"

Ossë suddenly dispells the waves and they vanish into the air, becoming nothing but a temporary mist. Beneath the shadow that quickly passes he appears once more, now a pale blonde guise to resemble that of his charge, the noble elves of Alqualondë.

"There has been far too much happen in the past to hold onto it. It is time perhaps to show the compassion and noble spirit i sense in Olwë, if we are all to surivive what I suspect lays ahead of us." Ithilia nods her head in acquiescence. Olwë backs away from the swirlling column of water and gasps as they dissolve and an elven looking Ossë appears.

Olwë blushes..."As I sense in you, Noble Lady."

Ithlia cannot resist giving an evil laugh, "NOW you will feel it if I bite you Wet Wonder!"

Ossë steps forward, his hands now bare of all but encasements of gold and jewels as befit his power, raising one such pale hand to the great head of the dragon, allowing her to see quite clearly he is in form of flesh and blood. Ossë laughs, his gold hair rippling behind him "You were not afraid, only indignant at the disadvantage! I fear you not great Ithilia! As you may not harm me, in any guise I take!"

"The last time you walked so among us was when Earwen was but a child...and you taught us the secrets of the swanboats.." he looks at Ossë.

Ithilia lets her teeth show, just for a moment while Ossë is so close, and then masks them again before she speaks, "You have no reason to fear me Ossë, for despite all I sense no evil in you. It is only those with evil in their hearts that need truly fear me. "

"Great Lady, how came you to Alqualondë? What is through a dream?"

Ossë turns again to the kind face of the king, grinning mischievously at him "I can assure you, gentle Olwë, you have beheld my guise anon in many instances, even if you were not privy at the time to my true name"

"But be warned, while you or Olwë have no reason to fear me, I am no tame Dragon, to do your bidding or that of others. I am wild and free, daughter of my sire, the Mightiest Dragon of all, the Great Ancalagon the Black.. so I suggest you do not ever test my patience!"

"And I and the Teleri are not chattels either, or villains to be threatened, but the firstborn of the elven races, steadfast and loyal to Eru."

Ithilia looks down at Olwë, her head tilted in thought. "I.. I came because I sought you, Majesty. I remembered the words that I heard spoken of you, so long ago. I had hoped you still lived, and had not fallen victim to the dark times that have been upon the lands."

Olwë regards the dragon quietly, his eyes locked on her face, his body at ease but his posture erect . Ossë clenches his fest, snapping back at the large beast with a fury as great as the worst sea storm "I need no pet or slave to do my will! My will is only mine to enact! But keep you also in mind, I am as wild and as tempestous as the least and most of my siblings and I have no restraint when protecting those under my care! So let us both respect and be aware of each others and consider each no less than peers! But enough! I tire of this quabbling!"

Olwë blushes. "We lived...despite the kinslaying...We...endured."

Ithilia snorts a puff of smoke again as she suppresses a chuckle at Olwë's words. " I see we share pride and stubbornness too, Elf"

Ossë scoffs right back, his grin rather proud and humored "In leaps and bounds, but while I may look like The Children I am not of them, do not confuse me for an elf!"

Ithlia turns her grin upon Ossë also, "And it would seem that you are also in accord with us, O Puddle Maker. Perhaps if we three can direct our ferocity against those who deserve it, we might accomplish something good!"

Olwë smiles, then laughs..."We have pride in abundance, it seems."

Ossë grumps, crossing his arms over his chest "I did think, Lady Ithilia, that this was entirely the purpose of your call!"

"Pride and courage, which is not such a bad combination, methinks" Ithilia's chest rumbles as she chuckles ruefully

Olwë nods. "I think me we will have great need of such, Noble One."

Ithila's stomach chooses this moment to rumble loudly. Her eyes stray longingly to the swans on the harbour... "Ahhh, yes, I beleive it was. Times are changing. Times HAVE changed. The dragons can no longer continue to exist in limbo, not when we can help those in the light fight against the shadow."

The breeze from the ocean wafts across the land. Ithilia's nostril's quiver as warm swan scent is brought to her. Olwë watches her nostrils flare and follows her gaze out over the harbor..to the swans.

"Perhaps you are famished after your journey." The sound of hooves fill the harbor...Olwë turns and beholds Lord Tilion on his white steed.

Ithilia shifts a little where she sits as her stomach grumbles loudly yet again. "I confess it has been a long flight from Arador, and dragons do not travel with supplies""

"Perhaps, you would allow me to dispatch hunters to secure deer for you?"

Tilion send his steed on his way..... to avoid an embarassing situation

I would not wish to put you out, Noble One. What I need is right in the harbour, if you will excuse me but a moment.".. with that Ithilia takes flight... her mighty wings taking her directly to the harbour. Hovering briefly over it, seeming to watch the water. Olwë watches, as it slowly dawns on him... He turns to Lord Ossë..."Oh,no..."

Disappearing beneath the waves with a last flick of her tail, the Dragon plunges deep... her threshing turning the waters of the harbour to white foam as she chases the school of large salmon she had spotted there earlier.

Ossë watches the dragon take flight with great interest, seeing it dive into the sea. He raises an eyebrow and watches her quietly, wondering what she will do.

With a mighty splash, Ithilia rises from the harbour, one last fish wriggling in her jaws before she snaps it down.. "The wind tells me I am needed on Arador"" she calls down to Olwë and Ossë. "I must bid you farewell for now, but I shall return."

Olwë waves, eyes shining and mouth open,a look of wonderment on his face. "I shall return" She calls, turning her nose to the sun, her mighty wings bearing her away swiftly.

> Next Alqualondë       > Next Dragons

History of the Lands of Arador

by BelanosStormchaser Magic

PART I

There is a hill in the Blessed Land called Corollaire, the Green Mound. This hill is also called Coron Oiolairë, the Mound of Eversummer. It is upon this mound that the Two Trees of Valinor stand. To the west of this mound lie lush lands that magically never know the touch of winter. These lands are called Oiolairë, the land of Eversummer.

For long years during the troubles no one lived in Oiolairë. There are signs of ancient occupants but their fate is long lost in the mists of time. No one knows who used to own the lands and they have grown wild and lush, slowly eradicating most signs that any had ever lived there.

It is no surprise then that these fair lands caught the eyes of Ithilia as she and Morchaint returned to Arda from their long years of exile. Seeking a sanctuary from the Dark Lord Morgoth, Ithilia landed and claimed the lands as her own, as is the way of such a large and ancient black dragoness. She could sense the magic in the land that kept it ever green, never experiencing the cold. She knew that the magic she sensed would likewise protect all who lived there from the gaze of Morgoth, finally offering a safe haven from fear of being recaptured by him.

Upon recovering from their long journey, it was realised that two things were urgently needed. The first was to make an alliance of peace with the High King Manwe, so that all in his lands would know that the dragons among them came in peace, as allies. The second was to send out word to the lost dragons who had fled Morgoth's command that at last there was a safe haven.

In time all this occured. Ithilia and Morchaint invited the High King to their lands and declared a peace between his lands and theirs, gifting to him the Dragon Star of Peace, a unique gem wrought by Ithilia with dragon magic, which incorporated some of her own dragon essence. So long as High King of Arda holds the Dragon Star of Peace the dragons of Oiolairë are honour bound by their spirit to live in peace with his people. In return, the people of the High King accept and respect the dragons who now live among them, opening their hearts and their lands to welcome us.

Since that day no small few of the ancient dragons and their companions have found their way to Oiolairë. They come from many distant lands, and have lived through many adventures. Some are wear and now only seek a life of peace in the sun of their land of Eversummer. Others are determined to protect the life they have now found at Oiolairë under the gentle hand of Ithilia the Peace Seeker. Others still are determined to actively fight against the Dark One now they are out of his clutches, determined to avenge the abuse and misuse of our kind through the ages.

PART II - THE GREAT MIGRATION TO ARADOR

Thunder rumbled across the winter skies. Lightning flashed and cracked throughout the long dark night. When morning came, Ithilia was nowhere to be found in Oiolairë. No one knew where the great black dragon had gone. For long weeks the dragons of Oiolairë waited with no sight or word from her.

At last, the wind brought word. She was returning. But, there was more. The winds of change were blowing. What mysteries had kept her away from her beloved lands for so long? What changes were now bringing her home?

But Oiolairë was home no longer. Driven by a mysterious call on that dark and stormy night, Ithilia had winged her way westward, ever westward towards the sunset, until at last reaching a strange land set in a jewel bright sea - Arador. Exhausted from her long journey, she sought refreshment and rest on that fair Isle. Furling her aching wings she drank long and deep from the crystal clear waters that sprang from the hidden spring in the high cliffs and contemplated what had drawn her here. For here was where she had been meant to come. She knew that in the very marrow of her bones. At last, her mind whirling with questions, she slept.

And while she slept, she dreamed.

'You are no longer safe at Oiolairë, daughter' the voice said.
Raising her head she looked about her, squinting her eyes against the brightness of the golden light that seemed to surround her.

'Who are you?' she called, her voice rumbling sleepily as she fought to wake from sleep. 'What do you mean, i am not safe?'

'Who I am is not important,' the voice said, not unkindly. What IS important is that I bring you warning'. Ithilia rose to her feet, shaking herself to clear her head, her wings flapping heavily against her bright obsidian-coloured scales as she did so.

'What warning?' she asked, tilting her head as she tried to peer past the bright light and see the speaker.

'The spirit that guards Oiolairë is weakening, daughter.' the voice continued. 'The sanctuary it has given you until now, hiding you from Morgoth's gaze, is past. Soon he shall know you are living right beneath his nose and send forth to capture you and Morchaint. You are no longer safe in Oiolairë. Nor is any dragon who lives there.'

Ithilia's tail swished angrily at the thought of her beloved Morchaint falling into Morgoth's hands again after all this time. 'But we have fought so hard to stay free. Shall we never be safe from his shadow?' she asked in frustration.

'It is why i called you here, daughter.' the voice went on. 'To lead you and the dragons who come to you, to safety. Your fight against all that Morgoth wanted you to be has been seen and noted, daughter. Such courage shown by you, and by those who come to you shall not be in vain. These lands hae been blessed by the hand of Eru himself. They are my gift to you.'

Ithilia blinked, taken aback completely by the great gift that was to be hers and then shook her head sadly.

'I cannot accept your gift, Great One, for Great One you must be to have power of such a gift.' she said. 'I cannot leave the lands of Arda to fight alone against the shadow of Morgoth. No matter what the cost, I have pledged my allegiance to the High King. I cannot break my word.'

'I never thought you would, daughter.' the voice spoke with a hint of amusement and pride. 'I do not mean you to abandon those who rely on you. I simply give to you a safe place from which to continue your fight. But you can fight better when your own homeland is safe, when you have somewhere to come to that Morgoth cannot touch, as he can now touch you at Oiolairë. Take this gift, daughter. Bring Morchaint and your dragons here. And continue to fight the fight against the shadow and evil in Arda knowing those you love are safe. It is my last gift to you, my beloved daughter.'

It was only then that Ithilia realised what it was about the voice that had tickled at the back of her mind throughout the conversation.

'Mother?' she whispered, but already the golden light was dissipating to be replaced by the darkness of night.

'Mother? ' she said, louder this time.

'Mother!' this time almost a shout, a shout that brought her full out of sleep, fully out of the dream. She looked around at the silent dark night. No glowing golden light. Just the strange stars glowing in this western sky, stars so different to those that shone over Oiolairë.

A dream, she thought. Just a dream. It was then that a soft breeze sprang up, swirling around her gently, almost in a caress. 'My last gift.. High Tari of Arador' it whispered before disappearing again, leaving the night as still and silent as before.

A dream. But a dream with a purpose, she realised.

And so it was the next morning found her high above the cliffs of Arador, her nose turned toward the sunrise. On and on she flew until at last Oiolairë loomed on the horizon.

'Come!' she called to the dragons. 'Come! Make haste!' and swiftly she gathered them and led them to Arador, carrying Morchaint with her as they travelled. To Arador, the Royal Dragon Lands, safe haven of all who would flee evil and resist the shadow of Morgoth, all who would escape his grasp and would fight his rule. And it is from Arador the dragons wing forth and return to Arda, to honour their allegiance to that realm, to stand side by side, in battle and in peace as together they fight for what they believe in - for Ithilia the Peace Seeker well knows that sometimes, in order to have peace, first one must fight.

So come all those who would seek peace, come those who would seek sanctuary and come those who would seek honour - Arador welcomes you.

And the dragons come. Still, they come.

Now, now their story continues...

> Next Dragons    

The Prophecy of Mandos

< Previous Background Material AelKennyr Rhiano Fëanor, son of Finwë, one of the first Elves (Eldar) in Eä, created the Silmarils from the light of the Two Trees. The Silmarils were hallowed by Varda, so that they would burn the hands of any evil creature or mortal who touched them (with the exception of Beren). Together with Ungoliant, the rebellious Vala Melkor destroyed the Two Trees. The Silmarils then contained all the remaining unmarred light of them. Therefore the Valar entreated Fëanor to give them up so they could restore the Trees, but he refused. Then news came that Melkor had killed Fëanor's father Finwë, the High King of the Noldor, and stolen the Silmarils. After this deed, Melkor fled from Valinor to his fortress Angband in the north of Middle-earth. Thereafter he wore the Silmarils in his iron crown. Fëanor was furious at Melkor, whom he named Morgoth, "Dark Enemy of the World", and at the Valar's perceived desire to take the gems for their own purposes. Together with his sons he swore the Oath of Fëanor, which bound them to fight anyone who withheld the Silmarils from them. This terrible oath resulted in much future troubles including mass-murder and the war of Elf against Elf. Fëanor led many of the Noldor back to Middle-earth. His flight, which occurred during the First Age of Middle-earth, led to no end of grief for the Elves and eventually for the Men of Middle-earth. Five major battles were fought in Beleriand, but ultimately the Noldor and all the people who took the oath failed in their attempt to regain the Silmarils from Morgoth. One of the Silmarils was recovered by Beren and Lúthien through great peril and loss. It was later taken by Eärendil, heir of Beren and Lúthien to the Valar in the West as a token of repentance. The Valar then set this Silmaril as a star in the sky. The other two gems remained in Morgoth's hands, and were taken from him by a servant of Manwë at the end of the War of Wrath. However, soon afterwards, they were stolen by Fëanor's two remaining sons, Maedhros and Maglor, as they tried to fulfill the oath they had sworn so many years ago. But the jewels burned their hands, in denial of their rights of possession, as they had burned Morgoth's hands before. In agony, Maedhros threw himself and his Silmaril into a fiery pit, and Maglor threw his Silmaril into the sea. Thus the Silmarils remained in all three elements — in the sky, earth and water - and would never be recovered except by the reforming of the earth. According to a prophecy of Mandos following Melkor's final return and defeat in the Dagor Dagorath (Battle of Battles), the world will be changed and the Silmarils will be recovered by the Valar. Then Fëanor will be released from the Halls of Mandos and give Yavanna the Silmarils and she will break them and with their light she will revive the Two Trees, the Pelóri Mountains will be flattened and the light of the Two Trees will fill the world in eternal bliss. added June 13, 2011: (from The Shaping of Middle-Earth, History of Middle-Earth volume iv, edited by Christopher Tolkien)  The prophecy, as recorded in Qenta Noldorinwa, 1930  with names updated to later version, for clarity “Ever and anon [Eärendil] returns and shines behind the courses of the Sun and Moon above the ramparts of the [Valar], brighter than all other stars, the mariner of the sky, keeping watch against Morgoth upon the confines of the world. Thus shall he sail until he sees the Last Battle fought upon the plains of Valinor.  “Thus spake the prophecy of Mandos, which he declared in Valmar at the judgement of the [Valar], and the rumour of it was whispered among all the Elves of the West: when the world is old and the Powers grow weary, then Morgoth shall come back through the Door out of the Timeless Night; and he shall destroy the Sun and the Moon, but [Eärendil] shall come upon him as a white flame and drive him from the airs. Then shall the last battle be gathered on the fields of Valinor. In that day Tulkas shall strive with [Melkor], and on his right shall stand [Eönwë] and on his left Túrin Turambar, son of Húrin, Conqueror of Fate; and it shall be the black sword of Túrin that deals unto Melko his death and final end; and so shall the children of Húrin and all Men be avanged. “Thereafter shall the Silmarils be recovered out of sea and earth and air; for [Eärendil] shall descend and yield up that flame that he hath in his keeping. Then Fëanor shall bear the Three and yield them unto Yavanna Palúrien; and she will break them and with their fire rekindle the Two Trees, and a great light shall come forth; and the Mountains of Valinor shall be levelled, so that the light goes out over all the world. In that light the  [Valar] will again grow young, and the Elves awake and all their dead arise, and the purpose of Ilúvatar be fulfilled concerning them. But of Men in that day the prophecy speaks not, save of Túrin only, and him it names among the sons of the [Valar].” added June 13, 2011:  from Silmarillion: "[The Dwarves] say ... that Aulë declared to their Fathers of old that Ilúvatar will hallow them and give them a place among the Children in the End.  Then their part will be to serve Aulë and aid him in the remaking of Arda after the Last Battle." < Previous Background Material

The Fourth Age Continues

by BelanosStormchaser Magic and AelKennyr Rhiano

The One Ring has been destroyed.

Sauron has fallen below the point of ever recovering.

Morgoth, long ago defeated and dethroned by Eönwë, had been cast out beyond the Walls of Night, yet his presence remains as a pervasive corruption of the world.

Indeed, shortly after the fall of Sauron, Gandalf himself warned, "Other evils there are that may come, for Sauron is himself but a servant or emissary."

The Rings of Power no longer work now the Master-ring is gone. The Elves of Middle Earth have been shorn of power to hold back time and the world moves towards the Dominion of Men.

And yet…

And yet there are whispers of a Prophecy. A prophecy of the Dago Dagorath – the Battle of Battles, in which Melkor will discover how to break the Door of the Night and will destroy the Sun and the Moon. A prophecy that tells how all the Free Peoples of Middle Earth, Elves, Men and Dwarves alike shall battle side by side with the forces of the Valar against Melkor and his resurrected army of old followers. A prophecy that speaks of Melkor’s final death, the fall of the Pelori Mountains and the rekindling of the Light of the Two Trees. A prophecy that tells of the end and renewal of Arda’s existence. A prophecy of change to come…

And so, the old ways change. It is not only the Elves who now travel the Straight Road to Aman. The Valar move among mortals and Elves alike as they prepare them for the fulfilment of this prophecy. The Elves seek to teach Men their wisdoms while there is still time. Old allegiances pass away and new ones are formed. Those who are scattered gather with old allies and new. Former enemies now stand shoulder to shoulder as allies as they fight those who fall under the spell of the corruption of the world, and prepare for the Battle of Battles.

The One Ring has been destroyed.

It is the Fourth Age.

And the story, the story of Ainur, Elves, Dwarves, Dragons and Men, continues..

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