y name is Lhuncalion Elcharion. I was born the only
child of Alkquesseion and Enlhugiel Elcharion. For as many generations as I know
of, at least one male from my family has been a member of the Rangers. That pretty
much means that I grew up knowing of the Rangers and aspiring to be a member
when I was old enough. Most of the members of my family that were in the Rangers,
like my father, eventually made it to the rank of Captain. It is told that my
grandfather even took control of two divisions of Rangers briefly after the other
division’s Captain was slain. From what I’ve learned, my grandfather
actually knew Prince Faramir of Ithilien.
hen I was about 14 years old, my father was gone on a routine patrol in East
Ithilien when his patrol encountered a large band of orcs. I do not know any
major details of the battle that followed, but I do know that my father along
with many of his men died. In the end, the Rangers killed almost all of the
orcs and drove off the rest. The found my father lying with my family’s
sword, Andomian, still tightly gripped in his hand. The blade was brought back
to the outskirts of Minas Tirith where I lived along with my father’s
remains. I was given the sword as part of the funeral proceedings.
ix years later, my mother grew ill and weak. I cared for her daily, and the
Head Healer made many trips to my home. Roughly one year after she had gotten
sick, she called me to her bedside. She mustered all of her strength and told
me something that I can never forget. What she told me, she did with surprising
strength for a woman as sick as she. She said to me, “Son, I love you,
and I must leave this Earth now. I will see you again someday. Before I go,
I must tell you something very important. Andomian, the sword that belongs
to you now, the one that belonged to your father and his father before him
is not an ordinary blade. It was brought from Númenor by your ancestors.
It is an ancient blade. One forged by the smiths of Númenor at the height
of its power. Your family is not noble, but is not completely common either.
They were a family belonging to the ranks of the Captains of Númenor.
Carry that sword with pride.” With her last words, she smiled, squeezed
my hand and died peacefully. I saw great beauty in my mother for probably the
first time in my life. She looked proud and comfortable. That was one year
ago.
fter the burial of my mother, I went to my room and took Andomian from the
place where it had been stored. I removed the cloth wrappings and unsheathed
the sword. I looked upon the blade. It seemed to shine brightly in the dim
light of early evening. The candlelight glinted from it dancing around. I gripped
the sword tightly. That was the moment I knew that it was my turn to wield
Andomian. I almost felt empowered by the mighty blade. I left my house the
next day and entered the main city of Minas Tirith. I immediately joined the
Rangers.
am currently the Captain of the Hyandaner: the Bladesmen. I love the Rangers,
and Gondor. I will serve the King and Queen always.
<< Fanatics Plaza
y name is Lhuncalion Elcharion. I was born the only
child of Alkquesseion and Enlhugiel Elcharion. For as many generations as I know
of, at least one male from my family has been a member of the Rangers. That pretty
much means that I grew up knowing of the Rangers and aspiring to be a member
when I was old enough. Most of the members of my family that were in the Rangers,
like my father, eventually made it to the rank of Captain. It is told that my
grandfather even took control of two divisions of Rangers briefly after the other
division’s Captain was slain. From what I’ve learned, my grandfather
actually knew Prince Faramir of Ithilien.
hen I was about 14 years old, my father was gone on a routine patrol in East
Ithilien when his patrol encountered a large band of orcs. I do not know any
major details of the battle that followed, but I do know that my father along
with many of his men died. In the end, the Rangers killed almost all of the
orcs and drove off the rest. The found my father lying with my family’s
sword, Andomian, still tightly gripped in his hand. The blade was brought back
to the outskirts of Minas Tirith where I lived along with my father’s
remains. I was given the sword as part of the funeral proceedings.
ix years later, my mother grew ill and weak. I cared for her daily, and the
Head Healer made many trips to my home. Roughly one year after she had gotten
sick, she called me to her bedside. She mustered all of her strength and told
me something that I can never forget. What she told me, she did with surprising
strength for a woman as sick as she. She said to me, “Son, I love you,
and I must leave this Earth now. I will see you again someday. Before I go,
I must tell you something very important. Andomian, the sword that belongs
to you now, the one that belonged to your father and his father before him
is not an ordinary blade. It was brought from Númenor by your ancestors.
It is an ancient blade. One forged by the smiths of Númenor at the height
of its power. Your family is not noble, but is not completely common either.
They were a family belonging to the ranks of the Captains of Númenor.
Carry that sword with pride.” With her last words, she smiled, squeezed
my hand and died peacefully. I saw great beauty in my mother for probably the
first time in my life. She looked proud and comfortable. That was one year
ago.
fter the burial of my mother, I went to my room and took Andomian from the
place where it had been stored. I removed the cloth wrappings and unsheathed
the sword. I looked upon the blade. It seemed to shine brightly in the dim
light of early evening. The candlelight glinted from it dancing around. I gripped
the sword tightly. That was the moment I knew that it was my turn to wield
Andomian. I almost felt empowered by the mighty blade. I left my house the
next day and entered the main city of Minas Tirith. I immediately joined the
Rangers.
am currently the Captain of the Hyandaner: the Bladesmen. I love the Rangers,
and Gondor. I will serve the King and Queen always.
