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Council of the Heren Istarion

Rasec

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It was a bright morning, and the golden roof of the Temple of Heren Istarion was shining like it never shone before. The sound of the clear waterfall nearby could be heard by anyone who approached the Temple. And that time, among the freshing air of Arthedain, something approached. Not something small, but a large battalion of men, composed of about 200 soldiers, 150 swordsmen and 50 archers all clad in mail, bearing the star of Heren Istarion.

Riding on the vanguard was a tall man, his hair floating on the air, and his light blue eyes gleaming with the Sun; his face was noble and beautiful. When they reached the Temple, a warden was standing next to its wooden door.

- Greetings, warden of Heren Istarion! - said Rasec, the Captain. - I was summoned here, and I would much like to know where I must lead my riders to.

- I will certainly tell you, Rasec, son of Cesar
- said the warden. - For I am here for that. You must ride to the land of Mithlond as fast as you can. They are in need of your aid there, immediately! Leave now, and I hope the horses of your men are swift enough! May the Light be with you in your path!

- Thank you, warden of the Temple!
- answered Rasec. - I am absolutely sure that the horses of my men are as swift as the wind! Fare ye well...

Saying that, he turned his horse and rode away, being followed by his large battalion of great men. He loved the land of Mithlond, and so he meant to arrive there as soon as he could.
 
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Anamatar IV

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Amidst the riders of Heren Istarion there was one unlike the others. He rode next to Rasec yet was of much shorter stature. He bore a great axe and several throwing axes. His name was Dain Ironfoot, a valiant dwarf out of the Lonely Mountain. He looked not for celebration in Mithlond but rather for a row of orcs to lay waste to.
 

Ciryaher

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Ërvûrkeá, with the Heren Istarion army, approaches Ingolemo

Ërvûrkeá listened as a horsed messenger whispered in his ear. His face grew almost red as his beard and he screamed out a thousand profanities in Adunaic, Dunlending, Morbeth, Quenya, Sindarin and Westron. The man on horse rode away, fearing the Northman's wrath.

He turned, suddenly, on Ingolemo as they marched and threw him to the ground. "Your friend has betrayed us all!" he screamed and frighteningly became calm and somewhat evil-voiced in less than a breath, "But she will not hinder us, definitely not. We will rise against the Dark Lord and cast him down. Out of the night, a great friend shall come and bring forth the vengeance of our people. Praise to Orome! We will reign victorious, regardless of how your friends may betray us."

He leaned down and whispered into Ingolemo's ear, hissing, "Betray us, and I will make death seem a happy ending." Then, pulling both the leader and himself to feet, he marched on, as if nothing had happened.
 

Anamatar IV

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Ingolemo hastened back to Ërvûrkeá. An anger was in his eyes. That a young man, no matter how high in heirachy of Arnor he was, would have so little respect for his elder to throw him to the ground was uncanny.

"I had no thought of betrayal cross my mind, ye person oblivious of your surroundings!" Ingolemo said angrily while turning Ërvûrkeá to face him. "Nor will I yet believe that one of Heren Istarion would betray us to Mornclaur! Do not trounse me with petty threats for if you reached for your brazen hilt you would fall dead by the arrows of Heren Istarion!" Ingolemo mounted his steed once more. The soldiers of Heren Istarion had formed a semi-circle behind Ingolemo.

He spoke once more.

"Oh how I hope that your lord has more respect for us than you, but alas! I have not met Ciryaher and thus could not say."
 

Anamatar IV

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The army of Heren Istarion rode hard to Annuminas, in which their temple was. As the soldiers rode up to the Temple the door warden wound his great horn loudly.

"Indeed lords," he spoke quickly to Ingolemo. "It is good to see you here so quickly after you all left for war! And by the looks of it it doesn't seem like you've lost any battles!" Ingolemo silenced him.

"Take your arms. Call all men in this temple to arms and steed!" Soon all 550 soldiers of Heren Istarion sat upon a horse, clad in mail. Ingolemo divided them into groups. The groups seperated and rode their own ways, leaving the temple unguarded, leaving it to waste.
 

Anamatar IV

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Five hundred thundering hooves past over the lands and came to the door of the Temple of Heren Istarion. As were all the soldiers that had yet come to that building, they bore the mark of Heren Istarion.

No door warden greeted the new soldiers. Nor were there any guards at the doors. The captain of this group went into the Temple and found it desserted.

"Where have they gone?" Inquired Poseis to himself. He trotted back to his soldiers outside.

"The Temple is desserted and it seems it has long been so," he said to his soldiers. "We would not ride blindly into the world searching for them but we cannot stay here. Ingolemo must have had some reason to leave and we will try to find him."

"But where do we ride?" called a bold soldier from the front ranks bearing a long spear with a golden head.

"There was recent battle to the East. We will ride there. If we do not find our comrades there we will find a survivor of that battle and ask him where Ingolemo has ridden. The sound of our hooves will drown out the wind. Come!" Poseis spurred his horse and the soldiers rode eastward.
 

Anamatar IV

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After many long days far from home in the throngs of battle and the hosts of war the Istarion had returned to their grand courtyard. They now hoped for peace from battle. Now the captains, officers, and generals of Heren Istarion gathered together to form the Council of Heren Istarion. Among them were Ingolemo Denstore, the founder, called by the Istarion the Elder, Poseis called the Fated for he had ridden long in dangerous battle unscathed, Rasec the Down Star, Valanthe Elven-maiden fair, and Gindorg the Fell for his lance was as keen as any arrow of the enemy in the long battles. These sat in chairs of marble and gold next to eachother at the head of the Council for they had ridden the most into fierce battle and had won the most renowned. But there was one chair next to Ingolemo. It was reserved for one great captain of Heren Istarion of old who had yet to come.
 
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Dáin Ironfoot I

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As soon as the captains had returned, Dain left for Rohan, captivated by a calling beyond the ages of the earth itself. Ingolemo presented him with a golden star of Heren Istarion, and would be the last time he would see Dain for a long while...
 

Anamatar IV

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A tall man dismounted infront of the tall gates of white stone to the courtyard of Heren Istarion. He passed through the archs over head and walked down cobble-stone roads to the Temple of Heren Istarion where the Council abode. The guards raised their spears at the newcomer as he approached the door but with a silent gesture to the brooch that he wore they pushed aside the grand doors of oak and bowed graciously.

"Ah you are come at last!" Ingolemo at the newcomer exclaimed motioning to the chair next to him. Anamatar Osterel after days of long journey had returned to Heren Istarion out of war and sorrow.
 

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