Prelude

The House of Eluindir
And
The fall of Luin-Gondolang

A mere 25 years ago, far north in the lands of Eriador, there lived a small community of men and a handful of dwarves, in a town called Luin-Gondolang, Blue-Stoneridge in the common tongue. Among them were the most skilled craftsmen, both men and dwarves, ironsmiths, steelworkers, and woodworkers. Their force of trained warriors and bowmen protected them for ages from the occasional goblin and mountain-troll attacks. Nothing out of the ordinary happened for a while, and Eluindir, the lord of Luin-Gondolang led their people to delve deeper and deeper, in search for richer metals, to make stronger weapons and armor.

Eluindir was an honorable man, he wore a crown of Numenorean craftmanship, it was given to his ancestors ages ago, and ever since was the mark of the lord of Luin-Gondolang. It would be passed on by traditions to the firstborn of the same bloodline. The next in line, would be Eluindir’s oldest son, Faelagor, a 13-year-old boy, who was an apprentice to Denri, the Dwarven weaponsmith. Eluindir was very fond of his oldest and thought him well, to not kill unless given a choice and not to interfere with the forces of nature, he would not kill animals for game, food or leatherworks, the materials used in their craftmanship are gathered from the bodies of the fallen, in the defenses against the occasional attacks on Luin-Gondolang, hides from beasts, horses that were mounted on the battlefield, and other unfortunate souls, who met their end in similar ways.

“Aenarín”, the day of the crown, which was a yearly traditional gathering, where the finest crafts where traded and riches were bestowed upon was coming closer every day, and every year a feast was held, following Aenarín, in the main hall of Luin-Gondolang, the Fire-Iron Keep.

Meanwhile, lord Eluindir kept digging for richer metals, however too deep was dug, when the caverns in which the goblins resided were found, their walls breached. The goblins retaliated against Eluindir’s delving company of metal-workers and stone-delving townsfolk. They fled back to their closest encampment, and the goblin retaliation was fought off.

 

3 weeks later..
 

All seemed well, there was no sign of goblins, orcs or other spawns of the enemy, for a while, and Aenarín was upon us, mighty riches were traded that day and people from far places came to gaze upon the craftmanship of Luin-Gondolang. In the night, as the feast in the Fire-Iron Keep began, it happened. An orc ambush accompanied by the goblins of the breached caverns. They attacked ferociously, women and children were slain by the blade, the men were defenseless, as they were not equipped for battle. They brought mountain trolls, and outnumbered the people of Luin-Gondolang three to one.  Many tried to flee, but were shot in the attempt. Only a handful of survivors remained, homeless, scattered across the woodlands of Eriador. Among them were Denri, the dwarven smith, and Faelagor, son of Elduindir. Their homes were destroyed, and they were now set into the wild.

Eluindir's Exile

Long ago, a battle in Ered-Luin was lost, a battle for Luin-Gondolang. The city was destroyed. Nothing still remains of the city, whatever remained there, nature took to itself and turned it into lands, rocks and mud. There are little people that tell the tale of Luin-Gondolang, and those who do, often are unwelcome in taverns for their spread tales of sadness.  I know, I spent years building this town, making it greater. My name has died, and so has my house. No relatives that stand by my side. After the fall of Luin-Gondolang I picked up the sword and shield, and started doing mercenary work for coin. Saving up so I could buy myself into self-exilement. Evil spawns of the enemy, crawling out of the cesspits of Morgoth, I have fought, killed and burned. My shield has seen the blade of the orc, the Uruks and broke the skulls of many. Blood turned into coin, protection turned into a living. I go by the name of the Iron Warden. The people I have shared drinks with call me Elin, as I never gave my full name. Not out of fear, but out of pride. Eluindir died with Luin-Gondolang. All I wish for, is one day to be reuinited with my son, until that day comes, I will fight. With honor and with pride. Until that day, the day that I may pass and drink with my son in the halls of our ancestors, I will fight.