Eriador Mail Service RP

[Eriol]

Banner by Drifa, 2024

Rivendell

In a shaded clearing in the northern woods of Imladris is an elegant white edifice, Mar Têw, for the sending of mail - both messages and packages - in the valley or beyond. Elves are busily categorizing boxes and letters and scrolls into baskets, carts, and satchels for riders and wagoneers in the yards without.

Lone Lands

On the flat under-side Frodo saw some scratches. “There seems to be a stroke, a dot,
and three more strokes,” he said.
“The stroke on the left might be a G-rune with thin branches,' said Strider.
“It might be a sign left by Gandalf, though one cannot be sure.
The scratches are fine, and they certainly look fresh.
But the marks might mean something quite different,
and have nothing to do with us. Rangers use runes, and they come here sometimes.”
- from The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring - A Knife in the Dark

Welcome to By the Beech ! This is where you may write a letter to any friend, family, or foe likely to wander the Lone Lands of Eriador. Alternatively you may write yourself a letter that your character receives here, or leave some ambiguous and/or anonymous message to prompt RP situations for yourself and/or others.

The Lone Lands is no fit place for a “traditional” Post Office, as any little station established in the wilderness would be largely unmanned and unprotected. However there are times in an adventurer’s travels when some risks must be taken, warnings made, meetings planned and/or messages interpreted.

Many Rangers of the North visit this notable old beech tree frequently to leave or receive important information, which enables them to better place their wandering kindred on the map, learn from troubles requesting their help, or to leave their own requests to fellow Rangers.

But many are the malevolent minds creeping about these woods, therefore many messages written by Rangers are worded so that it only makes sense to the right recipient. Be careful choosing what you write in your letter: if your message is read by the wrong person, so will your secrets too end up in the wrong hands, and you’ll have to deal with the consequences !

Please note : Whether you are moral or immoral, a character carrying a good heart or a rotten one, you can RP summoning your allies for any kind of mission.

This is a good option for anyone who wants to start a free RPG in the Lone Lands and gather any size of group of people to write it with.

Simply RP placing your letters/entry/message(s) in one of the holes drilled on the trunk of an old beech growing alone atop a gently sloping, grassy hill. Then either play out the consequences yourself with/without friends in one of the Free RP threads of the Lone Lands, or wait and see if anybody else takes up your prompt(s) themselves.

Bree

A three-story yellow brick and maplewood building, the Skylark Post Office on the Hill, accepts letters and packages from Bree-landers and visitors from afar. Hundreds of packages and letters get sorted here and taken away by horserider or wagoneers. Not a single scrap of parchment is ever lost, no package goes damaged. The Bree-land Postal Service is a system to be trusted, and can deliver anything to anyone throughout the west-lands and the south kingdom of Gondor.

Lindon

In a fair woodland within the Grey Havens is a large stately building named Sad Erthad, built of grey marble and carved cherrywood. The circulation of mail is orchestrated here for delivery to both territories of Lindon and the lands outside the coastal realm which are situated on both the mainland of Middle-earth and the Wethrin Isles

Rule One:

Please use this thread only to send letters or packages (unless it's the Beech location and that has its own rules listed above) to any characters of yours or those of other members. If your place of permanent or temporary residence has an address, please post it in the Imladris Forum Archives https://lotrfanaticsplaza.com/forum/vie ... f=10&t=192

[Drífa]

Afird walks into the Skylark Post Office on the Hill. He bows low to the post master and deposits his letter into the mail 'out basket'.

THE PRANCING PONY, BREE . September 14, 1640

Dear Mac and Doc,

How are you, lads? I hope this letter finds you both keeping well at this busy time of year. I was at the Pony awhile back, on my way home from Archet. I stopped in for the ale and a bite to eat before my journey home. I looked you up, but was informed that you were down the way at Appledore orchards, filling baskets. Figures, it is that time of year.
From our talks, I know how you both enjoy the harvest. 'The apples are sweeter smelling than stable dung', said you, Mac. 'The picking is more fun than the bickering customers and one of the old Butterbur's hollering, run run,' was what you said Doc. I sure hope you had a good time. Did you save any apples or did you eat them all?
I was down to Archet delivering an order of axes. Those Archet men are sure becoming bold. They said my axes were dull! Can you imagine? Well, one slant-eyed customer did say. Ai, telling a skilled axe maker his blade is dull. A skilled Dwarven axe maker at that! Bah! I gave them (him) an earful, let me tell you.
Afird Splitaxe's axes, I said, are, 'as the name indicates, made to split wood. These axes have a large and heavy head that is forged and ground into a concave shape with a relatively thin edge. The axes are made to cut along the wood fibers, unlike forest axes that are made to cut off the wood fibers.' I come from a long line of axe makers and have been making them since I was young Dwarf. And though it has been a long time since I have been young, be warned, I could still wrestle anyone one of you to the ground for such an insult.
Well that brought a few of them down a notch. I got a few apologies, but none from the slant-eyed customer. He just snorted at me and left, leaving one of my good axes on the ground.
I don't know lads, something queer going on with those folk at the edge of the Chetwood. Be wary if you go that way, hear?
Well the light is fading, so I will end this letter. I hope the next time I make it your way, we can have a chat, enjoy an apple and a laugh.

Your friend,
Afird Splitaxe
Ancient East-West Road , Blue Mountains

[The Good Hunter]

SA 3323, late Autumn

Dearest Inziladûn

I hope this letter finds you well. The world has changed so much in the last few years I can hardly stop my head from spinning. I’ve managed to keep the grief at bay, but only so much. Nyárener has been a great help in that regard. He’s been keeping me busy transcribing notes and translating things. There is a wealth of knowledge here in Lindon, Inziladûn, so much greater than we ever had on Númenor. There are works of art, poetry, dramas, treatises, and other things I did not know could even exist. It’s wonderful. I've been busy translating some of the Adûnaic works into Sindarin. There isn’t much, but some of the books we were able to smuggle off made it here and Elendil managed to bring some of his vast library with him and generously donated several volumes.

I miss you here. While Lindon is bright and full of joy and singing, it lacks a certain light. How are things in Umbar? I’ve heard some distressing things about that city from the people here. I worry for your safety, but I trust in what your father does. Please be careful. I realize, writing that out just now, how silly that is to say to you, so wild and carefree. Above all, I hope you remain yourself. In a world that seemed increasingly hostile to us, I hope the spark of light and life and joy never leaves you. Fight against any that would seek to change who you are.

Ever your friend and companion
Númenyraumion

@Moriel

[Istya Alassea]

A blonde haired hobbit in his mid-thirties came up to Sad Erthad within the Gray Havens city limits, and stopped upon its front steps. He had shouldered a moderately sized bag over his arm the whole trip here, so he took several deep breaths and then removed the bag from the shoulder. He placed it on the step in front of him, and then opened it up to bring out three bottles of Old Winyard Wine. He also took out what he was using to carry his water, and he took a thirsty gulp before putting the sack back over his arm and picking up the wine bottles again. He then entered the building to inquire about how to deliver this precious gift.

One of the bottles had a letter attached to it. "To Tharmáras Isilherven and his wife. A happy congratulations on your fourteenth wedding anniversary! Please enjoy these vintage Old Winyards at this special time."

@Aigronding Mordagnir

[Moriel]

SA 3323, late Autumn

Dear Numey,

Thank you for your letter!! I miss you so much, there is no one here as good at singing as you, or playing word games, or... anything, really. There’s no one else here like me either! The children of Men that are my size are not my age and barely more than infants, and the children of Men that are my age are, well, they’re basically grown ups and don’t want anything to do with me. It’s so annoying! Was it like this for you on Anadûne? Did you have any friends? I think I would like some, but I don’t know where to find them.

I can’t believe it’s a whole year since we moved here from Mithlond. I miss Lindon. It was more like home than Umbar is. Which is strange, since so many Adûnâim live here. But it feels different. Even the sea feels different, at least in the Bay of Umbar- once you get out onto open ocean, it’s almost the same. Almost. I feel like everything is different from the before times, somehow. Sometimes I want to lean over the side of attô’s ship and ask Ulmo why, but he scares me. Attô tells me not to be afraid, but it’s hard. I love the sea, but the Lord of Waters took so much from us. Attô says I’ll understand someday but I’m not sure if I will.

Will you teach me Sindarin? I want to read the things you’re translating! That’s so amazing!! Nyárener was just getting ready to start teaching me when we left, and he gave me a little scroll with some basics on it to take with me but it got lost on the way here. I cried for days. Attô says there will be plenty of time to learn. He has a few of his and ammê’s Quenya books but nothing in Sindarin, though. No one here speaks any kind of Elvish except me and attô, only Adûnâyê and Westron. Most of the people here call themselves King’s Men, which I doesn’t make much sense to me- we don’t have a king anymore, do we? Attô says that he is Faithful still, but I should keep that to myself. I don’t know why, but it’s sort of fun to have a secret with him.

I asked attô if we could sail north to visit, but he says not yet. I asked why, but he just smiled and said he’s busy. And it’s true! Everyone knows who he is and wants one of his ships. But still, I hope we can visit soon. Or maybe you can come visit us? I don’t know what ‘distressing things’ you’ve heard but attô will keep us safe! I miss you. And I miss ammê. Is it normal to still hurt this much? Attô says yes, but it will fade, eventually. He’s a Man, though, and they don’t live very long, even Adûnâim. What about elves? Will I hurt like this forever?

Kiss Nyárener for me!

Love,

Inzil


P.S. Can you draw me a picture of those otters the funny Nelya with the tattoos showed you? I forget his name but tell him I said hello.


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@Mama's Murder Muffin

[Fuin Elda]

Dear Cirdan

As you are still building boats and felt that I should inform you of a fantastic tree in Imladris that would make excellent lumber for a boat. I can tell you that despite its age it is most certainly not awakened so you need not feel bad about cutting it down and making it into a prow or perhaps a mast. I swear it is not because I fell from it nor because it wouldn't tell me which way to go in the maze.

Kind Regards
Melviriel


Fuin signed it such as she doubted Cirdan would know who she was otherwise, he knew her by her proper name Melviriel when she lived in Falas with her mother after the fall of Doriath

@Sur Vanar Utírieste

[Farewell]

@Fuin Elda

Dear Melviriel,

I thank you for your recent notification regarding a potential source of lumber for our elven-ships. While the majority of our wood is collected from the trees that reside within the Forlindon woods, I regard the collection of any and all foreign resources to be a worthwhile endeavor, always.

A fortnight ago I sent my leader of housing and commerce, Annúnfalas, to fetch me this tree with a few of my shipwrights. Unfortunately, when word reached my young jester, Istíldë, the wagon was relieved of its cargo upon entering the borders of Lindon.

I heard shortly after this incident from my courtiers, that Istíldë had in fact used this timber to build a bonfire with her youngest friends down at the beach, where I might add, they also drank wine from bottles stolen from my private cellar.

Galdor and several of his companions attempted to salvage what they could, and while Istíldë will be reprimanded for what she has done, I’m afraid the tree responsible for failing to guide you in the recent maze in Imladris, is not part of a ship’s hull but is instead a small birdhouse hanging from a fruit tree in my garden.

It was decorated with small shells, and I am pleased to tell you that a pale-breasted thrush now resides in it with her children.

Sincerely,

Círdan the Shipwright, Lord of Lindon

[Ercassie]

Airien Mereniel
Linyamaril
Imladris

My dear friend,

This is an emergency. I require your assistance with all urgency, and the utmost of discretion. Well, at least until our project is complete. At which point you are of course welcome to declare all credit owed to your expertise in this particular skillset. I am not speaking of your swordplay. You may however require armour to safeguard your person during the .. experiment. The subject is .. unpredictable. The outcome I am certain shall be worth it.

You see, there is, it has been claimed, a party. And all such claims require due investigation. I have no doubt, and indeed shall expect your own attendance at the event in question. Where we shall, in all likelihood, celebrate our greatest accomplishment yet.

If you believe yourself up to the challenge. Expect my imminent arrival,


Nariel


PS @Tharmáras

[The Good Hunter]

SA 3324, Late Spring

Dear Izzy,

I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve written. It’s been very busy lately here with all the translating and archiving. I fear I must have upset Nyárener because he only gives me the most boring things to translate. Just yesterday he gave me something I thought would be fun and interesting from the time of Tar-Atanamir but it turned out to just be an inventory list from one of his ships. I will tell you a little secret though, the king must have loved tomatoes because he brought in crates and crates and crates of them!

The Children of Men are very different from us. As much as I have grown to love and cherish them, I still find myself being at odds with them. I remember being your age. Even back on the Island, when the weather was still fair and the people friendlier, I found it difficult to find friends. I had a handful of friends you might say though, boy’s and girls I would play ball games with in the empty fields after harvest. My best friend, though, I think was Finnbarr. Do you remember when you first met him? He had come secretly to the port of Adúnië? You snuck aboard his ship and climbed into the crow's nest! Your mother and father were so annoyed but he just laughed and laughed. I’ve gone sailing with him a few times. I think you would love it! He likes to out to the deep waters, where the whales are. He jumps into the water and swims with them! Can you believe that?

Lindon misses you too. The waters are cool and clear but they just don’t sparkle anymore. There are a lot of people here who are sad. They try to hide it, but you can recognized the looks now. Everyone is scared and worried. Even the elves. No one knows what to do, or what really happened to our home. Some people are mad, but they don’t know who to be mad at.

I would love to teach you some Sindarin! I think it’s an easier language to learn than Adûnaic but I might be a little biased. I’m sorry to hear Nyárener’s scroll got lost. I’ve enclosed another copy though so he'll never know!

I don’t think we have a king anymore, even if Elendil has his cities and Umbar carries on the name of the old king . I think that’s good though. Maybe we don’t need kings anymore. Wouldn’t that be an interesting world! Everyone is equal, no matter who they are or where they came from.

I think your attô is a very famous man now. Remember old Lord Círdan? He’s very famous for building very good ships. Your attô is very much like him. They are both good men, smart and creative.

Pain and sadness work differently for you and I, Izzy. We remember things much longer than Men do. We hold things closer. We can recall all our good memories, but our bad ones are always there too. We don't let go as easily as Men do. Would that we could. Don’t be afraid though, you will feel better in time. I don’t know when or how, but I know you will. I promise.

Numey

P.S.
I talked to Finnbarr and he said he could do you one better than just a picture of a sea otter!

P.P.S.
Do you remember Anárion? Did you ever meet? Well, he’s is very dear to me and I’ll be seeing him soon in Gondor, where he is staying. I’m very excited. Hopefully, I can come visit you too! I miss you Izzy. I miss you very much.

[enclosed with the letter is a parchment scroll filled with basic exercises on Sindarin, some words, and simple conjugations; also included is a sea otter, carved from alabaster to the perfect likeness]

@Moriel

[Moriel]

My dear Galedeep,

It was only too easy to find you. I should chide you for your lack of disguise in name- or perhaps it was your intention to be so easily discovered? How brazen. In either case, found you I have. It is normally my custom to depart at once from Mithlond on the conclusion of such a fête, however circumstances have conspired to keep me here a while longer. I seem to recall the promise of tall tales, a fine meal, good wine, and slower music, if the wind so willed. The winds have stalled and left Vingilótë becalmed- will you fulfill your promise to her? She awaits a bold mariner’s daring.

Send your reply by this bird. It will find me.

-M

------

@Call of Cthulhu

[The Good Hunter]

Dear Vingilótë

I will grant you my disguise wasn’t clever, but for an event I wasn’t planning on attending I found it was incredibly apt. From the otter mask, the beard, to the name, I think I left enough breadcrumbs for anyone who might wish to find me. I am glad you contacted me, bereft of a name, I would have been forced to ask who the beautiful maiden dressed as a ship was, the one that seemed as tall as the peaks of the Pelóri who wore the stars as a tiara. You are quite a mystery, dear Vingilótë. I am sorry to hear that winds have borne you ill will, though I know a safe harbor that such a lovely, sleek, and daring ship could take refuge until such times as the winds of fortune looked upon you favorably once more. Indeed, tall tales, a fine meal, good wine, and slower music are a must at this harbor, any who would stay should acquiesce to at least one evening of such stipulations, more evenings are encouraged of course, but would never so strictly enforced. Should you find these terms acceptable, dear Vingilótë then ask for the Otterman and you should find the harbor quite easily. Be sure to ask for the Otterman and not the Wellerman. While you would be supplied with sugar and tea and rum, once the tonguin’ is done you would have to take your leave and go.

The Galedeep

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@Moriel

[The Good Hunter]

Dear Nyárener,

I’ve done it! I’ve done it! I managed to submit my proposal for the excavation site in Rohan and they approved it! I can hardly believe it! All those late nights studying and wasting candle after candle has finally all been worth it! I was afraid they were going to call me in and accept my proposal but tell me I wouldn’t be fit to be the leader of the expedition. As it turns out, they couldn’t think of any to lead the expedition besides me! They will also consider this expedition to be my test to enter the Guild! Not just as a junior member, but a full-fledged, voting member. If this goes well, I could have my pick of places to travel and study. Talk about a boost in confidence, you betcha! I’ve insisted that when they write the letter to the King of Rohan asking for permission that there be a Rohir co-leader. It’s only fair after all, it is their land. Oh I’m so excited! I’ve never dared to dream that something like this was possible for me.

I cannot tell you how grateful I am for all the support you’ve given me over the years, both practical and moral. I am too easily swayed to not believe in myself but your kind words (and all the blankets you gave me when I refused to leave the library in winter) have given me strength, strength enough to finally reach for what I want. I’m not sure what I will find on this excavation but I am exhilarated by all the possibilities! Who could have guessed that I, Yoshiyo the Klutz, the inkfingered girl that nearly burned the library down on her first visit would be leading an expedition that could change the way we interpret the migration of both elves and men westward? I never thought I’d amount to more than the library custodian.

I did! I can’t quite believe it, no matter how many times I write it down. Thank you Nyárener. Thank you for believing in me

Yoshiyo

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@Moriel

[Drífa]

Dwarven Express
Drifa Burak
Khazad-dûm, Middle-earth

My dearest Drifa,
I have finally made it to Bree, escaping from the drudgery of the axe guild for a time. You know I am committed to it, but sometimes it bores me to tears. Besides, the summer is upon us, and the sun shines ever so brilliantly. Who wants to be stuck inside a cave, eh? But enough about me. I was thrilled to receive your letter when I reached here, and even more so when I read that you had a case of wanderlust. I knew you would be thinking of it soon. It strikes you at this time of year. Alas, my good dwarf, I cannot set out until late September, but I am already looking forward to it. Keep your walking boots nearby and ready. I may make it back to Bree by late August. I will anticipate a response from you. If not, we shall make plans in September. All my love to you. May we meet soon!

Your friend,
Afird

Ps. They have these simply unique new stamps at the Skylark PO. I thought they were pretty amusing, Elf ears. And summertime ones, too!