Molor

Lalfius Herius Molor

# History on the server

## Umbar kingship

On the 6th of November I officially took kinghsip of Umbar, with the intent of reuniting the haradrim into an empire. Few days later all people playing in Umbar stopped, so did I.

# Roleplay

## Backstory

Lalfius Herius Molor is an Umbarian noble, of numenorean descent. His lands are west from the city of Umbar, where his family always resided for several millennia.

When the former ruler of Umbar died, a succession war was on the verge of breaking out, so the Umbarin lords, although not pleased, asked the Steward of Gondor to mediate the next ruler. Three candidates were choosen: Azrubêl, descendant from a cadet branch of the now dead king, Lômiphêl, the would be queen of Umbar, daughter of the previous queen, and Molor's father, distant cousin of the king.

At first, the debate was sparked because of a portion of the nobility was against Lômiphêl taking the throne, although in teory she was the rightful heir, so Molor's father and Azrubêl were proposed, but the three sides were splitted almost evenly. Aglarân proposed the princess to marry him, in order to win the majority of the lords, but before the offer could go through, the Steward of Gondor was called by Azrubêl's supporters, who caught a hint of the scheme. The Steward, knowing that keeping Umbar unstable, decided to rule in favour of Azrubêl, so he became king.

Twenty years later or so, the parents of Molor were killed, when their ship crashed on the coast. Knowing that it was no accident, Molor prepared to war, gathering supporters from inside and outside the kingdom.

## Chaper 1 - House of Molor, Herii family estate

The evening wind came down from the hills to the sea, the breeze just strong enough to lift by a small margin the cloth of the tunic and slip through the sandals, drying the wet skin.

"This is not a good night" said Molor, looking at the stars. The moon, high in the sky, bathed with its light the low hills and plains of Umbar, the last bastion of the Numenorean empire.

"Be damned, Umbar and its weak king that failed to reclaim our place in the world" replied harshly Îrpân, his most trusted friend, as soon as he read the letter coming from the south. "They claim ownership on this lands, wasn't enough that they slew our fathers?"

"Quiet, Îrpân, their claims are only empty threats. If everything goes in the right direction, we might never have to be preoccupied with them anymore. How are the negotiations with the Dôlguaic?"

"I believe our negotiations will be short, they've no military to speak of, only bands of armed men. Few are armed with steel. If I might say so, my lordship, can't we just invade their lands and force them to be our subjects? It would be certainly less time consuming than trying to get their loyalty through words."

"Patience, zîr (friend), they will bow to us. One way, or the other. You may go. Rest easy, you had a buisy day."

"Thank you, my khôr (lord)." With these words, Îrpân left the room, leaving Molor to ruminate on the dilemmas he had to face: from one hand, the king of Umbar, a weak ruler who was hostile to his family, decided to claim the lands of his forefathers, while on the other hand, the Dôlguaic, the Taurethrim, decided to play hard and didn't want to cooperate. Maybe it was time to look back to the traditions, to the numenorean legions of old and protect with strenght what couldn't be protected by law.

## Chaper 2 - Molantinopolis, the main keep

The letter that marked the beginning of the civil war arrived in a calm summer evening. Andros, the brother of Molor, came in with the message folded and locked with a sigil.

"A letter?" asked Molor, curious. "Delivered by you. What's the matter."

"Apparently, our allies in umbar, gondor and Khand have been buisy with other... issues. I've been informed that all of their forces stationed near our borders were located elsewhere, while I don't know why..."

"Khand is electing a new ruler, the gondorian lords were pressured by the steward, while our allies in umbar received the grim new of an army on their land. Probably looters and bandits, officially, but we all know who they are."

Andros kept silent for a while, with the letter still in his hand. "Danus is outside with most of our forces, monitoring the activity in the Umbar's docks. Should I recall him?"

"You are right, he should be called back" agreed Molor. "Do it at once."

The next day, the triremes of Danus, the admiral of the Molinar fleet, were seen back in the northern port. Danus itself was told to stay at the port and man the walls of the small settlement, while keeping a couple of vigilant eyes on the horizon. Andros, commanding the hundreds of the guards of the city, was told to hold the bridge connecting to the mainland with half of the garrison of Molantinopolis, while the other half was kept in the city. The workshops and smithies kept awake the citizens for most of the night, the sounds of forging, crafting and carts moving on the streets, filled with military goods. After two days, the corporations of the city were told to organize a draft, in order to secure the walls, while the main army, commanded by Îrpân, was recalled behind the walls of the city. Messengers flew from and to the main keep, soldiers started roaming the island, checking all the watchtowers and manning all the defences in the places suitable for a landing.

After the commanders of the ships realized their mistakes, they started shouting at their men still aboard and soon some took javelins, bows and slings to counter the barrage of the Herians, so the skirmishers retreated hastily, leaving only few deads behind. A line was assembled, opposing the defenders, and the signal was given: a couple hundred of men tried to advance in the sand, keeping formation and their shields raised, because as soon as the skirmishers left the range of the ships they started again throwing the javelins, while the regulars, after the bogged down counterpart reached some sturdier land, threw theirs, two of them in quick sequence, and charged. The charge broke into the thin and crumbling line, still uncertain due to the sand sucking the feet of the soldiers, its effect worsening with each row. The two-line deep formation instantly collapsed, the soldiers running, surrendering and dying in equal part. After the last of the invaders was sent to the halls of mandos, the rest of the fleet retired.

## Abrupt End

In the same year of his rebellion, Molor found himself without any supporters. Molantinopolis was sieged and the army of the king of Umbar laid waste to it. Molor's whereabouts are unknown