Thread:Maltalidenta Kwuitidherali/@comment-26295802-20160420014334

It's not in the least finished, but it's enough to give you a general idea of the canon.

Herendil and his dusty Gull Warriors trudged slowly through the ash of Mordor, yet their spirits were never higher. Sauron had been thrown down by Isildur, and The War of the Last Alliance was ended at last.

"Seven years..." mumbled Herendil, shaking his head "I haven't seen Itallie in seven years..."

"I'm just glad this cursed war is over" said Isildur, walking beside "... even if it was at a great cost."

Herendil sighed deeply

"I don't think there will ever be another elf like Gil-Galad" he said "You men have lost your warriors and kings, but you will recover. I don't think we elves will ever return to our full power."

"Yes." said Isildur "But their memory shall live on here in Gondor... well, anyways, we'll be nearing Minas Ithil soon. I assume you'll stay a week or two before going your own way?"

"I'm affraid, I'm going to go right through" said Herendil "I don't know what it is, but I have a feeling that all is not right in Dol Amroth... maybe it's some elven forsight."

"You know best" said Isildur "After all these years, I know better then to question you now."

And Herendil was correct. While all of Gondor's troops were at the front in Mordor, Sauron sent a fleet of Haradrim corisairs, and they sacked Dol Amroth utterly. Itallie had fled north to Tarnost, gathering more forces for a counter-strike; but not knowing this, the remaining garrison thought she had parished in the fighting.

Thus it was that Herendil was met upon the road by a Turin, a messanger

"Lord Herendil" he said "Dol Amroth is in ruin, corisairs have sacked it utterly. I am all that is left of the entire garrison."

"And what of Itallie?!" had been Herendil's reply.

That question hung in the air for several moments, before Turin answered

"She perished in the fighting, my lord."

Herendil, without speaking another word, went to the Temple of Ulmo just south of Dol Amroth, and before any of his knights could stop him, he drew his sword and said

"Itallie! Itallie! Wherever you are, I shall go also, even to the very halls of Mandos!"

And Herendil plunged the blade into his heart, blood gushing to the white floors of the temple.

Slowly, his knights took up his body and bore it out of the temple. Dol Amroth was recaptured the next day, and the bells of Tirith Aear tolled sadly for weeks on end. Herendil was buried under the temple he died in, and that place was known as Cerin Alqua, where the princes of Dol Amroth would come and pay respect to him.

When Itallie returned, the knights tore their tunics and the women wept in the streets. Their beloved lord's death was all in vain.

Isildur, hearing all that had transpired, said "Herendil! Herendil, my friend and brother! The sickening irony, that thoust survived the fires of a drake, the wrath of The One, and the Great War... only to be felled by the words of a simple messanger."

Thoughts? 