Ruins of the North 1e continuation game

"Aye, I stand ready to stand with you fine folk again, if you are willing to take an old dwarf back once more."

Oderic finds his heart swelling to see Larsi looking fit and capable again.
On the return trip from Tharbad, the dwarf had too often been stomping along almost reluctantly, and with his beard pressed against his chest.
The youth is keen to include Cora in their conversations, and gets the dwarf to relate many tales of their earlier adventures, and also Larsi's even earlier travels on the other side of the great chain of stony peaks known as the Hithaeglir or Misty Mountains.

As the dwarf tells several of these stories he sometimes mentions the crossings he has made: much to the amazement of the girl, who has never been anywhere near such summits. Names such as the High Pass, the Summer Pass and the Redhorn Pass: each being a route where you go uphill for days at a time and where often snow lies deep on the ground up into the start of summer.
In Tharbad she has once witnessed snow falling twice. (Though bitterly cold at times, Tharbad is too low lying, and she is too young to know of the Long Winter - which she half believes to be a ghost story.)

So there will be a day, soon enough, when he leads Cora down the sides of the hidden valley, and across the bridge to the Last (or First) Homely House by the great Misty Mountains.

The last time he approached Rivendell he felt a rising in his spirit and his courage. Once more the scents around the elven refuge, the sounds of its river, and the hints of music from the dwelling of the Lord Elrond reach him and Inspire him.

But it is nothing more (or less!) than a confirmation of his own resolve and sense of self worth growing again.

Polite enough to speak again with some of the elves who come out to meet them all before he heads off to visit Damron in his forge area, the young man asks after the elf Guilon, who left the company a while back to return here.

The response is that Guilon has gone on a mission to an elven stronghold on the other side of the mountains.

He joins the others in the Hall of Fire. Where, later that evening the elf- Smith, Damon arrives and makes a point of listening to the elf melodies before suggesting they should walk around the house, and have a conversation.

Cora comes too. Uncertain to be on her own in such a whimsical (and un-nerving place), she tags along.

Damron reports with some details and interest what he has been doing. He wants Oderic to come along and see the results of his renovation work on the huge dark sword that Ageric had carried back to Rivendell for the exhausted youth Oderic after they had ended the threat of Captain Mormog, the Troll-Ogre of the Dark Land.

Damron has found he needed all his skill and his lore to de-fuse what they had surmised with Lord Elrond. That Mormogs tulwar sword had been forged from two other weapons: and that an evil weapon had been wrapped over the top of a powerful elven sword.

"When I spoke with you on first sight of that evil combination, I imagined we might have a Dragon-slaying weapon of the First Age to disinterr. It certainly has a Bane skill. But more so than I had hoped!

After much labour, and scouring my memories of Eregion and of Moria, and use of our libraries here in Imladris, I am confident to say this.

This is a Bane weapon It will slay all - I say again, ALL - creatures of the Shadow. I hold that this weapon, released by the efforts of you and your friends, should be carried out into the Middle-earth and used against all the Evil that preys upon the Light.

And so also does the Lord Elrond believe.

Tonight I wish you take it up and to start familiarising yourself with it. In a while there will be a full moon to attend and Elrond would formally invest you with this sword. What it's full capabilities are I cannot say: but this is a Mighty Weapon, and would not be out of place in a scabbard worn by an Elf King of old. "



(16XP to raise Valour to 5) He also improves his Travel capability.

Trading in his original sword (by bequeathing it to Cora) releases the Grievous Quality/Reward.

His new sword will therefore have the Superior Grievous Quality (Rivendell p100) to replace this. This is a bonus of +5 damage from the blade itself. But as he has increased his Valour as well he is due another Reward and he will unlock a second feature of his new blade with the help of Elrond and the Lore masters of Rivendell.

Ahmo was glad to reach Imladris and went at once to the seek out Elrond.
Elrond was attending a delegation from Mithlond, so she luxuriated in the baths, trading news with residents-many of whom had been friends for centuries as they soaked in the suphurous hot pools fed by hidden springs. There was word of her daughter MIquelsiel, who labored for Cirdan in Lindon and her husband Oronnil who had been seen in the upper Anduin vale on some extremely obscure errand.

She went then to the library of Master Elrond where she had spent many decades as a scribe and cartographer, compiling maps and charts from those fragments found by explorers, adventurers and scholars alongside her work with the Council studying the ways of the enemy and his creatures. She produced the old dagger she had come across for Atharavor, an old colleague who recognized the origin at once. "This blade was forged here in Imladris, but the hilt is much older and bears the halmarks of the artistry of our own Damron. You will have to ask him directly," her old friend smiled. "Have you brought corrections for our charts?"
"I confess I have little of significance to add. Other than the curious news that Tharbad is in a parlous condition and we encountered an Uruk and a company of goblins in Fornost-Erain while on an errand for Mithrandir."
Atharavor's brow tensed. "You've spoken to the Master?"
"He's busy with some people Cirdan sent."
"He will want this news."
Ahmo continued on, "Others of my company have spoken to him. I needed a bath."
The scholar's pique was evident. But Ahmo was known for her insoucience. "Now that you are fresh scrubbed and massaged, hiril, I hope you shall make report of tidings out of the north.
Ahmo nodded assent. "As soon as may be, Atharavor." she promised in bright tones and wandered off to the kitchens for a snack.

Imladris is vastly different from the Mirkwood where she had previously made her home. Not, that she doesn’t know an elf or two and know of many more but, even so, these elves have not lived as close to the orcs recently and in many ways that showed. She was a bit at a loss here and so she followed after Laicamairil and ended up in the baths and thus even more strangeness, not that she’d never bathed but, hot water was a rare luxury in the Mirkwood.

She followed the other elf but stayed back for the report then followed again when she went for a snack. "My pardon if I follow too closely but Imladris is very different from the Mirkwood. I only follow you because I am not sure where else to be here."

Ahmo and Aeglief, clad alike in linen robes taken from the baths wandered into the kitchens, the Noldo helping herself to a batard of bread and a cured sausage and a slice of cheese.
"The rule is the same as in your halls, I think- take what you like, just contribute what you can. And, of course, clean up after yourself." She tries not to sound overly condescending. Tucking a ceramic bottle of wine under her arm, she just managed to bring away a small feast, her new friend in tow.
"I've not been to your land in a long time! Tell me how is the Prince-Legolas? He is a real looker, that one!"
Ahmo's tone was conspiratorial. "Come with me," she said and led Aeglief to a portico attached to the great residence hall affording a spectacular view of the Bruinen plunging into misty plume. They took a moment to sit and enjoy the repast, informing on another of news from variously Eriador and Rhovannion.
"Don't eat too much! They will probably stuff us like hobbits tonight at dinner! You can wear something of mine. I raised my children here and gave most of my things to friends but I am sure I can find us something nice for the asking. And something pretty for Cora too. I am trying to make friends with her but she is shy. A lot of fire in that girl! We'll make an elf of her for a night." Ahmo proved a chatty guide, introducing Aeglief to many old friends as fine garments were enquired after. Pointing out Lord Glorfindel who they spied in converse with students on the drill field, she added "I'll tell you about that one later! Perhaps the hiril Arwen will sing at dinner. You'll think you've gone back to Menegroth!" And on it went until they ended the tour at the forge. Here, Ahmo became Laicamiril again. Stern and matronly. "There's a work here I must finish. Perhaps I'll have time before Lord Elrond sends me off somewhere for the Council again. She regarded a stack of casques, variously of wood or iron of a multitude of sizes. All with runes, sigils or other markings on them. "Somewhere here. I'll find it. My family sign is on it."

Larsi generally keeps to himself in Rivendell, and to Aegleif it may seem that the dwarf is simply keeping to the old feud between the dwarves and the elves, but to those who know the dwarf well, it is the quietude of the old watching the young. He spends time smoking his pipe, looking up at the mountains, his eyes fixed on one peak in the range.

If asked, he will simply brush it off as 'missing the solid rock of the Ered Luin' but Jot and Oderic might remember that mountain being the same where their companion Atawulf fell in battle.

"Old friend, would that you could be here. Ageric and Oderic have grown strong and tall, and I old and fat."

Larsi chuckles softly to himself, taking another long draw from his pipe.

She shrugs, "Last I heard he was helping to clear the spiders. The infestation was found when the somewhat famous Bilbo Baggins and his dwarven allies traveled through our lands. Perhaps by now he has helped to clear it entirely but, we are always dealing with Orcs, Spiders, and the like." It is not a comment on Lothlorien she simply is explaining the average experience of a Mirkwood elf.

She thanks her new friend for the repast and congratulates her, "My congratulations to you. You are truly blessed to have had children and I hope they have a bright future. My thanks to you for such an outfit, I hope that I and Cora will do well by your gracious gifts."

She listens to the chatter and adds in what she can while also assisting in any task put before her.

After returning to Rivendell, Jot finds himself once more among the ageless trees and gentle songs of the Last Homely House. Though his heart is still burdened by the memories of the dark places he has walked, the halls of Elrond offer peace — and answers.

In the quiet of the library, beneath the watchful gaze of ancient tapestries, Jot presents the sword he inherited — a weapon of stern lines, subtly luminous in the firelight, etched with faded Tengwar script. Elrond himself, flanked by learned loremasters, examines it closely.

"A relic of the North Kingdom," Elrond murmurs, "forged not in the heat of war alone, but with the fury and grief of a people betrayed by fate. It bears a name once spoken only in reverence — Calmacil, ‘Sword of Burning Wrath.’"

As they study the runes, Jot finds himself drawn into the sword’s memory, its resonance singing faintly to his Númenórean blood. Guided by the Elven rituals of attunement, he opens himself to it — not to possess, but to understand. In a trance-like state, the rage of his ancestors pulses through him: the fall of Arnor, the betrayal of Rhudaur, the Witch-king’s triumph, and the unyielding stand of the last defenders.

And then — he unlocks it.

⸻

Numenórean Rage (Ability — Locked until Attunement)

Only usable by one who has Númenórean heritage and has attuned to the weapon through deep lore and memory.

Once per session, Jot may invoke Numenórean Rage, awakening the fury of fallen kings and lost realms. For one combat scene:
• He gains +1 Success Die on all melee attack rolls.
• He treats all swords as having the Keen quality (on a 9+ Piercing).
• When he Intimidates Foes using the Awe skill, he adds his Valour and triggers automatic fear in adversaries with lower Resolve than his Valour rating.
• At the end of the scene, Jot must test Wisdom TN 14 or suffer 1 Shadow point due to the storm of wrath and grief he channels.

⸻

Elrond rests a hand on Jot’s shoulder as the visions fade.

"Use it well, son of the West. It remembers the fall — but you may yet shape the rising."

Would you like a visual of the sword or the inscription that Jot reads during attunement?LM Nice ideas. The RAGING ability itself can be applied to his sword, in which case as a Numenorean he selects two BANE creatures which apply the affect. Rivendell p100 has the sword inflicts Additional damage on an engaged foe equal to Valour EVEN IF THE ATTACK MISSES otherwise.