Thousands of Years AgoEdit
Many millennia ago in the land known today as Pendor, before humans sailed their ships to this estranged continent lived only two groups of folk. Elves, better known as the Noldor and Humans who were here before the Noldor, known as Denthlings. The Noldor migrated here from their ancient island homeland over 10,000 years ago for a reason only known to the Noldor. They at first wanted to be welcomed by the Denthlings but they were not up for that and rejected their proposed alliance, but they didn't fight and they didnt argue. They lived completely away from each other and never spoke, a sighting of either one was a noteworthing piece of information. The elves roamed the continent, foraging, hunting and gathering supplies to stay alive and feed themselves and family. They hunted with bows crafted from the branches of the Waellgen Tree which was perfect for making bows and arrows out of. They hunted deer, elk and if less fortunate, rabbit, fished along the rivers and ate the wild berries and mushrooms that grew in the fertile fields and woods. They lived in Blackwood longhouses and crannogs built by the men, women and children alike and stayed in villages scattered at the base of mountains, along rivers or on the coasts of seas and lakes, some of the brave Noldor even stayed in the eastern forests and steppes. The Denthlings lived in brochs along the western coast and in the mountains and desert
The elven clothes were made from deer hides and bison leather, reinforced for protection and warmth. Musicians fashioned flutes from leftover Waellgen branches and were often heard before they were seen. The Noldor also lived in serenity, they never fought amongst each other and murderers were rarely a problem but those who did commit the heinous crime were banished from their village forever.
The governers of the Noldor were called Saervens or "lords" and each village had one. The saerven sat on a tree throne made by bending branches still growing on a tree into a clear throne shape and lived in an unfairly larger house. they wore a garland of varying lengths and shapes with many decorations and beads looped onto it. Every time the saerven did a unique deed for his villagers or passed a law for the land he added a different bead of his choice to his garland. Some of the more experienced or older saerven's garlands streched twice or more times across their body. They sometimes wore a crown of wood if they were proud or celebrated enough.
Though they lived at one with nature and worshipped the land, some aspects of the it were mysteries to the Noldor themselves such as the wisps that flew through the trees, when the noldor followed them they were never seen again, or the mysterious animals and creatues that prowled the countryside and forest. The creatures did have names, but were rarely if ever discussed let alone hunted. Some included huge horned horses, crystal white and invisible for humans. Others included giant black wild cats which came down from the mountains in the night and travelled to the villages and crannogs to eat, the supposed perpetrators of the disapperance of the villagers' geese and deer...
Some Noldor even claimed to have possesed magic and spells, originally believed to have disappeared along with their island. These people mainly lived in a hermitage where they could practice their magic and enchantments in seclusion. The religious figureheads for the Noldor called Zenthirs looked at these people as crazy drunks who have taken magical fungus and mushrooms for spiritual guidance in excess and should be ignored. They also denied its usage on their ancient island.
It was this that made up the Noldor culture and way of life and it was this way for thousands of years. Nothing ever changed, nothing serious happened to the Noldor, until one day..
1257 years before the founding of the Kingdom of Pendor the Noldor were paid a visit. Except these visitors were hear to stay. One sunny summer dawn, the seas were calm, the birds were chirping and the winds had passed for the time being. A young Noldor adventurer going by the name Daesevan was standing by the beach's enbankment on the tip of the Gandolen peninsula, on the southwest coast, just west of modern-day Windholm, eyes closed, head tilted up enjoying the light breeze from the sea and the fresh salty smell it carried. He did this every morning seeing it as a good luck ritual for the day ahead. All was well and Daesevan was happy. He was just about to head back to his village when he spotted something strange on the horizon. A dot, that was getting bigger and clearer by the minute and was soon joined my many more dots. Upon further inspection these dots seemed to be sails, attached to boats. The Noldor used boats from time to time for fishing on the many lakes and rivers in the land. But these boats seemed massive and they weren't turning away they were heading straight for Daesevan, who at this point was joined by the rest of his village.
As what looked to be hundreds of ships coarsing over the horizon towards Gandolen Bay, Daesevan and the other Noldor strolled on down to the beach. A while later the armada of ships each with uniquely designed and colored sails and decorated with animal heads reached the Bay and docked miles along the coast. Daesevan stepped forward along with the village Saerven as a broad man, wearing a thick fur cloak over a tunic embroidered with a lion rampant walked up to them. They couldn't communicate with each other due to the language barrier but then the admiral started unloading supplies like new looking weapons of steel along with many people. This folk looked different than the Noldor, their ears were rounded, not pointy, they were not skinny and were taller than the Noldor, strangely similar to the Denthlings.
The Commander motioned for his guard to remove Daesevan and his brethren from his sight. Daesevan was not up for this and protested against the commander. This ended in Daesevan being beaten to the ground in a bloodied mess. The Noldor couldn't do anything to fight back or repulse the colonisation of the "Men From The Southwest" as they had no weapons other than hunting bows and spears let alone a strong and powerful army at this point in history. The Noldor never fought eachother so they had not needed one whatsoever. But the Noldor were infuriated when the Southwestern men shook hands with the Denthlings. It was they who invited the invaders so they could inhabit the open land. The Noldor were shaking with anger as these people they had basically ignored and had been ignored by were actually plotting behind their back.
The Noldor could only watch in despair as their friendly, harmless, and peaceful people were slaughtered, their crannogs and villages burned to ashes and many of their beloved Waellgen trees were cut down for firewood. Few Noldor made it to the eastern forests. Some humans tried to enter the forests but were only just beaten back by the Noldor who were used to hunt in the woods.
The humans ploughed central fields for farmland, raised great keeps and cities and most importantly...battled. The Noldor knew they had to do something. Hidden away in the dense Forests of Laria the Noldor crafted weapons; Composite Bows of hitting a target over 500 metres away if used by the most experienced marksmen. curved swords capable of severing a spine with a flick of wrist. They bred Spirit Horses faster than falcons and blessed their armor with mystical enchanments originally ignored by the Zenthirs until then. Most important of all they raised the great castle Elacrai on the northern bank of the Qualis Lake, with towers touching the clouds and walls able to fend off a million attackers. All in preparation for the day they restore the Saervens to power and one day see the Noldor roam the land again and enact revenge on the descendents of the Denthlings.
As this went on the humans set up their homeland in this great land. Giving it the name... Pendor
Almost a Millennium ago Edit
The war of the Titans laid the foundation for the ascension of Man. A terrible war, between ancient elder races left the world stripped of magic, and those magnificent mythical people, once so powerful, were now only the stuff of folklore and legends. Only the reclusive Noldor, what since “The Lord of the Rings”, we call “Elves” remain from those times, and their once great cities are all destroyed save perhaps one.
Three hundred fifty four years ago – the Founding of Pendor Edit
It is the time of Man. The story centers on the fertile lands of Pendor and the struggles of the peoples, their leaders and their destiny. Several hundred years ago, a single Kingdom was forged by sword and fire. A peace was maintained and prosperity came to the kingdom and it flourished. Five generations of Pendorian Kings sat on the Silver Throne in Sarleon and for nearly two hundred years they guided the destiny of their land and its subjects.
From the Founding of Pendor – the year 198 Edit
The downfall of the Kingdom was as swift as it was vile. A single month, thirty days, and the Empire was in tatters. The irony was it was not by the sword in battle, nor by some dark magic that caused the deaths of the King and his family. But by an unseen killer, a disease, the red plague that ravaged the land and cut down the peoples of the Kingdom, great and small, like an assassin in the night.
The royal family had perished, and there was no King to rule the land. Then came the invasions that seemed to shatter the once proud kingdom into slivers and the glory that was once the Kingdom of Pendor, was now itself the stuff of legend.
With the death of the King and his heirs, there was chaos. Multiple lords laid claim to the throne and nearly every noble of the land began squabbling over succession.
From the Founding of Pendor – the year 199 Edit
The carefully laid agreements, truces and alliances with neighboring powers became suspect. In the North, the mountain tribesmen began raiding the heartlands of Pendor. Embolden by their success and the lack of response from the Knights of the Realm, they struck even deeper and soon this led to the siege to Rane. The Earl of Rane sought help from the nobles of the land, but the schemes of the powerful found reasons not to come to his aid. Many Northern Lords, banded together and formed a small army that marched to defend the city from the onslaught of the northern Mystmountain warriors.. The battle was bloody and fierce, and in the end, the siege was lifted, and the barbarian tribesmen and their shaman leaders, routed back to their mountain homes. The Northern Lords, who fought so valiantly that day, decided to establish a knighthood order, the Order of the Dragon, comprised of the valiant warriors who defended the city. News of this new order was not well received by other knighthood orders or by the nobility to the South. They demanded that the Order of the Dragon be disbanded which in the minds of the proud warriors of the North, was an unforgivable insult to their valor. The scorn of other established knighthood and the lack of support to route the invaders from Rane prompted the Northern Lords to break ties with the southern lords and declared themselves an independent Kingdom: The Kingdom of Ravenstern.
Reeling from the succession of the Northern cities and lords, the remaining Pendorian nobility were not prepared to meet the next challenge that followed within a few short years.
From the Founding of Pendor – the year 202 Edit
From the South, over the southern sea,the Great Baccus Empire launched an invasion fleet and landed a powerful army on the shores of Pendor led by the war hardened General Oasar. He drove inland conquering cities and castles, and seemed unstoppable. Ironically, within a few short months of campaigning, the general received by messenger that the great Baccus Empire itself was in civil war and that the Emperor had been assassinated. After receiving this shocking news, Oasar established himself, with the support of several Pendor Lords, as Overlord of Janos and officially broke away from what was left of the Baccus Empire. The great Baccus Empire convoluted and fragmented into dozens of principalities, city-states, and kingdoms. The greatest and most powerful is the under the dominion of the priesthood of the serpent: a powerful and seemingly mystical religion of warrior priests who worship the unnamed goddess of darkness who manifests herself in the form of a snake.
For the once great kingdom of Pendor, that meant that a large portion of it’s Southern lands, cities and nobility were now either dead or sworn to service under this upstart general who calls himself Overlord.
From the Founding of Pendor – the year 204 Edit
After the establishment of the Northern Kingdom of Ravenstern and the invasion of Oasar, the powerful Lord Alfred, Duke of Sarleon, consolidated the remaining lords of Pendor and declared himself King of Sarleon. For ten years a measure of peace was maintained.
From the Founding of Pendor – the year 213 Edit
To the far north, across the seas lived the hearty warriors of the Vanskerry. Segmented into Jarldoms, they were raiders and traders. With the Baccus Empire gone, many of the Vanskerry mercenaries in their employ were free to return home to the frosty shores of their fathers. A wise man’s musings in the reaches of Vanskerry goes “Death is found in the blade of your enemy and trouble when a warrior has nothing to do.” When word came to the North of the troubles of Pendor, it was greeted with a call to arms and promises of plunder and women. Soon, raiding ships found the shores of Pendor a ripe land full of gold and wealth. Their well-armed and hearty warriors began raiding the towns and villages along the coast and met very little resistance. The Knights of the Lion and Lords of Sarleon responded by patrolling the coastal shores. Yet, still the crafty Vanskerry raiders managed to sack village after village. With so little ability to defend themselves, the merchant lords of the Pendorian coastal provinces sent delegations to the Jarldoms to seek alliances and protection. At first they were rejected, but in time as offers included titles and lands many Jarls and their huscarls began to listen.
The lands of Vanskerry are rugged and cold, compared with the lush and rich pastures of Pendor. The lure of good weather, and the chance to become a Lord of a castle, or even a well-located mayor of a village, appealed to many of the Jarls. Soon, many Vanskerry households left the shores of their fathers and sought fortune and prosperity along the coast of Pendor. Some entered into the service of the Pendorian lords, others married into the noble families. This changed many things in the Kingdom, as the warrior culture and attitudes of Vanskerry were brought into the noble houses of the coastal lords. Within a generation the culture gap was so great that the coastal nobles broke away from the King of Sarleon and formed a rough alliance of city-states called collectively the Fierdsvain.
From the Founding of Pendor – the years from 204 to 245 Edit
The story continued and detailed intrigues, war and heroic actions as well as the great villains of the land. There were stories of the Jatu tribesmen and their flight from the Empire and General Oasar, becoming nomads in the Eastern prairies of Pendor. There are the detailed accounts of the Order of the Lion, a knighthood order of Pendor, and their history and their betrayal by one of their own which had the order declared outlaw for years until their redemption under the current King of Sarleon. Chapters were dedicated to the D’Shar, a nomadic peoples who are evolving into a military and economic force only to find that their own worst enemy is themselves. Just as fascinating was the references to the encounters with the ancient Noldor and their powerful weapons and enchantments that changed the life of more than one adventurer. I was especially drawn to the story of Madigan, a wandering mystic who prophesized the coming of a hero who would unite the lords of the Pendor and reunite the old kingdom. His saga touched me as a hero himself, trying to speak the truth and being condemned to death for his beliefs.
I was startled out of my reading by the nurse telling me that visiting hours were over.
It was late, and I had spent most of the afternoon and early evening captured by the amazing story I held in my hands. I skipped quickly to the last pages and found them blank. I realized suddenly that the final chapters were missing.
I looked at Vance, who once again was awake, and watching me. Guessing my question and concern he said, “I do not have the answer to the last chapters. Those will have to be written. Perhaps when you write them, it will create those dimensions, those realities. I do not know for sure, but I suspect that is the case. I am too tired now to continue. That is why I asked you here today mate. Finish the story.”
He reached over and took my hand and gave it a hard squeeze. “I am tired mate and I have to sleep” he said in a half dreamy voice. It was the morphine I knew, finally giving him relief to the awful pain he must be feeling. I smiled at him and he shut his eyes and went to sleep.