Board Thread:Character Discussion Board/@comment-26210095-20151107051752

(With all the thoughts about mortality and character deaths, I am making a story on how Vëantur dies. This is late fourth age, BTW)

Vëantur's aged fingers brushed over the parchment map. "Is there no other way? Some way to relieve the seige?". "I am afraid not. They've blockaded the harbor, and surrounded the city. Tirith Falathrim is burning, as well as Barad Aerluin. The population has likely been put to the sword by the Gondorians." said Kormulk, the current Steward. "They are preparing some kind of battering ram. Out archers and musketeers are raining hell upon them, as well as the trebuchets and cannons, but 2 more come to replace every that falls." At night, the Gondorians placed a gunpowder blast at the gate, and it finalu gave in. The Gondorians poured into the city, the knights of Umbar could barely hold them off. Because of sheer numbers, eventualy the knights were punched back to the second gate. Through the night, the battle raged on, and multiple parts of Umbar were ablaze. Vëantur gazed out of the tower, observing this. That he would live to see such days. The haven burning, and the sons of Umbar falling to Gondorian blades. Finaly, something within him snapped. "Kormulk. Get my battle armor." He donned the heavy breastplate, and all the armor. Finalaly, he put the winged silver-and black helm of the Kings of Umbar on. Aranruth was on its scabbard, as always. "Sire, you surely don't mean too.." began Kormulk, before he was interrupted by Vëantur. "One last time. One last chance for glory. Assemble the knights of my household. Gather the finest you can find. If this is to be the end, I would make such an end of it, as to be worthy of song." Soon, the knights were gathered. Many of the greatest lords of Umbar were assembled, and their swords were bright and terrible. They slowly rode through the top layers of the city. Many women and children, most openly weeping, came to send them off. Vëantur kept his head high, but wondered if this would be the last time he was to behold the city. Even as it burned, it remained serene and beautiful. Soon, they reached the bridges. They were the most easily defendable place. Already the Gondorians were Beginning to cross. "Men of Umbar, my brothers. The darkness lies heavy upon us. Night has fallen. We stand here, beleaguered by our foes. Although we may die, we will die in honor, knowing that we fought our hardest, fought our fiercest, and gave our last breath for Umbar. Forth, scions of Umbar!" Vëantur unsheathed Aranruth, and it glowed like a star in the darkness. "Behold the dawn!" And even as he said those words, and the Umbarans charged their foe, the first glimmers of dawn could be seen, a rosy glow upon the horizon. The drawing of the swords of the Umbaran host was like a fire among reeds, and the men of Gondor drew back in fear. At first, their charge sliced through the Gondorian lines like a knife through butter, and the men hoped they could hold the bridge long enough for aid to come from somewhere. As the sun began to rise, more and more men fell to the arrows and sword of the Gondorians, and blood of Umbar made the river like blood. Little by little, the Gondorians began chipping away at the Umbarans, and they were all forced to retreat, save Vëantur. In a battle-madness he stayed at the bridge, literally making a wall of bodies to stop the Gondorians from entering Umbar. Fifty he slew, before he was pierced by many darts, and hewed by many swords. Kormulk dragged his body away from the carnage. Umbar was quickly falling, and it's population suffered a horrible fate. Many died at the cruel hands of the Gondorians. Vëantur was brought to the highest tower, and from there, as he lay dying, beheld the sea, and the once proud city of Umbar made a slave. "With my dying eyes, I behold the sea. May the Valar take me into their halls, and rest with my forefathers. The sea, the sea, the white gulls are calling. The wind is blowing, and white foam is flying. I will leave, I will leave, the white shores that bore me, for my days are ending and my years failing, I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing. Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling, sweet are the voices of the lost Isle calling. Now my tale has ended, and another begins. Farewell!" And with that, he gave his last breath, to the sounds of the gulls and the waves crashing in the shore. Aranruth, and his body were never found, whisked away by the last loyal servant of Umbar on a swift ship. The throne of Umbar shattered, and the sun burst out from the bosom of the sea, as Vëantur died. And now, as he said, my tale is ending and another begins. May the Valar take him into their halls.

(What did you think? Comment below...) 