Board Thread:Middle Earth Roleplay Board/@comment-26453572-20151004022153/@comment-26210095-20151004195217

Veantur walks into the room. His face is old, and his once raven black hair is snowy white, but his green eyes have not lost any of their luster. He walks into the room, clad in Black Numenorean robes. He begins, in a booming, thundering voice.

"Welcome, my leige-lords. Today, I have called you here for a purpose, one i hope you may futhfil. There are now precious few among us that remember the cause of my Exile. Let me repeat that story, to those that have not heard the full tale. Me, and quite a few others, includng your Granfather, Colaben, were on an expedition to find the fabled isle of the Meneltarma. This was in the days when Umbar was under the yoke of thrice-accursed Gondor. The faithful Umbarans led a rebellion against them, as they desecrated out culture, and planned to murder us. When we stepped foot on that island. Eru cursed us, to be banished to this land, and never again behold the shores of Umbar. Now those lands lie under the wave, and I have no hope of visting. What I do hope, is that we do not forget the many crimes they have commited against us. It is because of them that we lie here like cowards in exile. But no longer. NO LONGER! Today, will be a new beggining. For it is my purpose to renew our war against the Gondorians, and burn their cities and people to the ground. It will be dangerous. I do not deny that. But we go for revenge and glory. Who is with me?"

The whole table bursts into cries for revenge.