Temples of the Sun God

[Raithen Anar]

Although the Haradhrim did not know that Raithen truly was the son of Arien, they built temples to him as the Sun and began a cult of worship. Raithen himself, as long as they obeyed him, did not care if they worshipped him, Morgoth, Sauron, or some sacred cow or mangy old dog - he had long known people needed something to believe in.
The Priests recieved petitions, took bribes, gifts and gold, for prayer to the God-King, - none of which Raithen knew, or cared about.

[Raithen Anar]

The Gods walked in times of storms. Little Phia knew this for her mother had often told her stories, how the spears of the gods of War, could be seen in the lightning, and their voices in the thunder.
So the eight year old tried to quell her fears as she struggled up the hill behind the Shrine, her faded, threadbare tunic offering no protection from the shrieking winds and the driving rains lashing in an unseasonal storm across the coast of Pashaar. Even her head was cold, for days earlier her mother had cut off her long black hair in a bid to free her of live and fleas on her scalp. Even so, Phias thin body was still covered in sores and bites. Most of them were just itchy, but the rat bite on her ankle remained swollen and sore, the scab constantly breaking, and fresh blood flowing.
But these were small matters and did not concern the child as she pushed on towards the Shrine, high over the city. When her mother had taken sick yesterday, Phia had run to a healer. Angrily he had told her to stand back from him. he did not visit those the Dark God had cursed with poverty and had barely listened as she explained that mother would not rise from her bed, and that her body was hot and she was in pain.
So Phia had run through the city to a temple of the and queued there with others seeking guidance and help . The waiting people all carried some kind of offering, many had snakes in whicker pots, food, wine, even small pets. When at last she was allowed through the high doors she was met by a young woman who asked her what offering she had brought. She tried to tell her about her mothers sickness, but she too, ordered her away and called for the next person in line, an old man carrying a wooden cage in which two white doves were cooing gently. Phia did not know what to do and returned home. Mother was awake, and she was talking to some-one although there was no-one there, then she started crying. Phia began to cry too.
The storm came at dusk, and Phia remembered that the gods walked in harsh weather, and she prayed to them as she remembered that they were to be found in high places.
She was shivering now as the night grew colder and worried in case the wild dogs roaming the city and beyond caught the scent of blood on her ankle. She stumbled in the darkness. her knee struck a rock and she cried out. When she was small and hurt herself, she would run to mother, who would hug her and stroke away the pain. But that was when they lived in a bigger house, in a flower garden and all the uncles had been rich and young. Now they woere old and grubby and they did not bring fine presents, but only a few copper coins. They no longer sat and talked with mother. Mostly they did not talk at all. They would come in the night. Phia would be sent away and they would leave in a short time. Lately no uncles had come at all. there were no gifts, no coins, and little food.
Phia climbed higher. On top of the cliff she saw the high, graceful pillars of the Sun Gods Temple, surrounded by high, white marble walls, and a jagged flash of lightning illuminated the whole city and across the mouth of the harbour, the golden domes and minarets of the Palace of the God-King.
The child was almost at the end of her strength as she forced her way up the slope to the walls. Dizzy with fatigue she fell against it, it was so high, high and smooth, of costliest marble, without hope she reached for handholds, sobbing as the slickness, drenched by rain, offered nothing to her small grip, as she desperately hurled herself aaginst it, to slide down in the wetness on her knees.
Lightning rent the sky again and suddenly illuminated a figure standing not twenty paces away above her.
Phia stared at him, her eyes wide and frightened, hair blew about him like a cloak of pale fire.
The god approached her with an unhuman grace and she saw that his eyes were an unearthly, like burning suns in the golden mask of his face.

' Are you the... the Dark God? , ' she asked , her voice trembling.

' That would depend on who you ask, ' he said, but she felt relief sweep her, for the mighty Dark One would not have healed mothers.
' My mother is ill and I have no offerings, ' she said, ' but if you heal her I will work and work and bring you many gifts. All my life, '
The God turned away then, and she cried out, ' Please don't leave, mother is sick! '
He turned back, and a cloak was in his hands, which he wrapped around her shoulders. It was of the softest velvet, and black as night. ' You came here to pray for help for your mother? ' He asked, his voice cold, powerful, but not threatening. ' Has a Healer visited her? '
' He would not come, ' she told the God, ' So I went to a temple of the Dark One, but I had no offerings, they sent me away, '
Avaricious, venal bastards, , of course they would, ' his voice was so dry, almost bored, ' Come, ' he said, ' take me to your mother '
' Thankyou, ' her legs gave way and she stumbled awkwardly, mud splatering the beautiful cloak, ' I'm sorry, I'm sorry, ' she said.
' It matters not, ' He said and lifted her up, walking back down the long slope to the city.
She was not sure if she told the God where her mother lived, because she fell asleep, her head resting on the gods shoulder. She only woke when she heard voices, there was a woman beside them, veiled, darkly robed, she could smell the scent of perfume.
They were approaching the alleys where she lived now. Phia felt embaressed, because they were not nice houses, she and her mother lived in a tiny room in a mouldering shack, in the wastelands between the city and the great army barracks beyond. The roof leaked and there were holes in the thin wooden walls, through which rats found their way in. the floor was of dirt and there were no windows.
' I am feeling stronger now, ' She said, and the god put her down, and she lead the way in.
Several rats scurried away from mother and the gos reached to touch her brow, the veiled woman had entered too and she said something in a low voice .
' She is alive, we will take her back to the palace, Arianne, guards are coming, return with her,
I will see this healer, ' He took Phia up again, and she directed him back into the nicer streets and stopped at the healers house.
Phia whispered ' He is a very angry man, '
The god hammered on the door and it was wrenched open by the healer, ' What in the Void....? ' then he saw the God and his attitude changed, he seemed to shrink and then cower back. ' I apologise lord... I did not know, '
' You are a Healer? ' the god looked at the costly chain of gold around the plump mans neck. ' then you will heal, ' he leaned forwards and grabbed the chain and whispered something to the mans ear that made him go white under his olive skin. Releasing him, Phia saw what she was were red flames in the golden eyes, before he turned and suddenly.. there was a moment of blackness,where she fainted, weary beyond believe, and half starved.. and then...
She looked around in wonder . A beautiful room, of marble which shone with glints of silver and gold, inset with jewels, hung with rich silks , lit with coloured lamps, a long collonade leading out into a dark garden , where the sound of falling raindrops sounded gently as the storm died.
The woman was there, now uncloaked and unveiled and he handed Phia to her before striding off, tall, and almost glowing, in tight black breeches and boots, raindrops clinging to the beautiful tattoos on his arms.
Phia looked at the woman, who was perfumed, silk clad , and beautiful, who looked back at her, khol rimmed eyes hard - only eight, this child, but she would grow, and in ten years, she would be womanly, and , as he had obviously foreseen, a beauty. And she herself, Arianne , would be too old to please him, not that many did, or for very long.
Phia stammered, ' This is the Sun God's..... '

' Yes, you are in the palace, young one, ' Arianne said as slaves came with food and milk for the girls, unguents to clean her leg. ' And I think you will never leave, '

Raithan Anar was no pervert who preyed on children, - but with his immortality, he could afford to wait. He never did anything, Arianne thought, from kindness - always, it was and only, because he desired to. She left the girl with the slaves and ran to weep in her oom.

[Alcorad]

The rains passed and the sun slowly began to rise over the elaborate city of Haradwaith, its light crowning the temple of the God-King, but even as the first heavenly streams of gold baithed the Haradrim structures the clouds over the land of Mordor moved out beyond their mountain borders and choked out its gaze. A dark veil fell over the Land of Haradwaith and under the clouds alive with the light of fell lightning and thunder, the peoples fled back into the safety of their homes, their feet seemingly just touching the sandy streets. Over the Temple of the God-King was where they congregated most and from the darkness immerged a great winged shadow, darkness manifest.

The beast descended down onto the steps of the God-King's temple, its neck raised high and its dark eyes gleaming in a gluttonous lust for the blood of men. Its mouth stood slightly a'gape and its yellow teeth shined in the darkening sky, small strands of saliva passed down from one sharp fang to another. The Beast had no feathers and if it did, it would have been mistaken for a bird. In place of glorious wings there were large horned flaps of hide, folded at either side of its putrid grey and black body, splotched with patches of brownish mold from some old crevice where it slept in dark eryie.

Upon it was a rider and his crimson eyes shined clearly from the ominous shadow cast by his cloak. Silence had fallen over all of Pashaar. He stepped from the creature's back, meeting the hard stone ground with the heel of his boot. As he stepped down and composed himself, he became intrigued by the surrounding sights and architecture. Where Alcorad was worshiped by his own minions with dark replicas of himself placed about the Nurn and Gorgoroth, this man was worshiped with a temple. As a God. Alcorad could feel the power eminating from the temple. He knew that one of the Annatar dwelled within it.

Whisps of some fell shadow seemed to eminate from his body as he passed below the arched doorways of the Haradrim structure, its ornate beauty shining above all of Pashaar as a jewl, rivaled only by the palace itself where also the remaining eminations pulsed of the Maiar's doings but here they were strongest. Alcorad knew that the one he searched for was present there and would be alighned to Alcorad and his cause... as each of the others had been.

Light filtered upon him as the great doors were opened and the golden glory of the lavish temple revealed. Alcorad's eyes narrowed, nay tightened in the radiant beauty. He was not accustomed to such things and already was somewhat uneasy as to what type of Annatar dwelt here. The light was almost unbearable, but things such as light fixtures would not weaken him nor endanger his poise before the Lord of Harad. With a grudging effort he forced a cold smile upon his face and approached a robed man surrounded by many others. "Greetings, Lord of Harad." he said blandly.

[Raithen Anar]

' How do, ' Raithen strolled out from a recess, his booted feet crushing rose petals, his laconic greeting , his casual walk holding millenia of self confidence, not brash, or challenging, but a bone deep trust in himself.
He was carrying a goblet carved from a chunk of lapis lazuli, holding some dark, still warm liquid.
' Impressive no? ' he gestured with it, around the golden arches, and silver veined marble pillars. ' If some-one found a scabby old tortoise with Black Speech markings on its shell, they would probably build a temple to that too, ' he drank off the blood, before it congealed and tossed the cup aside. Drinking blood was not a need, or an affectation, he simply liked the taste, all bloods were different, he could taste if one were young, old, diseased, or healthy, even the diet, in blood.
Behind the altar at the back of the temple, behind the rayed sun of beaten gold, two priests cowered, at the strangers entrance, trying to make themselves as small as possible.
' So, to what do I owe the honour of this visit, ' he folded his arms, the intricately beautiful, cruel-looking tattoos moving over his biceps and shoulders. The stench of the beast outside infiltrated even the incense of the temple. Why did evil have to be - so often - ugly, he wondered idly.

[Alcorad]

Alcorad's eyes narrowed, a dark grin slipping across his face. The King of Harad was so close to him, naught two strides away. He could gain the alliance of Haradwaith with a single word and be ready for the next phase in his campaign against Middle Earth. "Greetings, Lord of Haradwaith. I am the King of Mordor, perhaps you have been so astute as to realize it. I should presume that you have seen the clouds mustering in the East. I must say they are quite noticeable. But enough about me, I very much wish to know your identity. I know you are of the Annatar for I also am as such. Those who left Valinor for power were the wise ones. It seems that you have found power. I am quite impressed." He raised his chin, looking upon Raithen's height which rivaled his own. Those of Aman could take any form that they wished and large stature was one that could inspire fear and unnerve even the most steadfast of warriors. It was as such it seemed, that Raithen agreed.

[Raithen Anar]

' Oh I'm just the result of a brief night of passion, ' Raithen said, idly. ' Mordor, hmm? Depressing land you have there, but it takes all kinds, - my parents were Maia, not Valar, lord of Mordor, so my powers do not rival theirs, but it's no secret really, - they're right to put the sun symbol there. Arien was my mother, I see her every day, in this hot land, she is very cruel to parts of Middle Earth, no? And my sire is Eonwe, the Herald , although I imagine both misowned me long ago. So, what transpires in the north? '

[Alcorad]

Alcorad smirked as he began to pace idly about the room, turning his eyes here and there to stare beyond the flesh and into the very spirit of the attendants and concubines that inhabited the temple during Raithen's presence. As he received the looks of fear and nervousness, he quickly averted his gaze to another target. Alcorad took pleasure in fear above all other things and although he was not hear to drain the life of these pethetic mortals, he would at least bring about the same feelings that came from his victims.

"How far North do you meen?" Alcorad said turning his crimson eyes back upon the golden orbs that seemed to be Raithen's. "Just North in Mordor, I presume. But still you could meen further in Mirkwood or northeast in Arnor and still even further into the reaches of Angmar. I have heard ample of the doings in Angmar but unless my mind deceives me you speak of the Shadowed Land and thus I shall tell you of that although there is little that can be explained by word of mouth. To truly know what transpires beyond the mountain walls you would have to travel their yourself, where your mother looks in utter sadness instead of wrath. The clouds and fumes of Orodruin have choked out all life. The Orcs muster in large numbers upon the Gorgoroth while the snaga and lesser goblins are sent to labor in the slave farms of the Ashen Desert and the Lands of Nurn. But of my personal doings, I cannot speak nor may I speak of deeper aspects that have been set into place. That would be foolhardy for surely you would surmise that I do not distribute my secrets like gifts."

[Raithen Anar]

' Oh very well, ' he replied, as he felt, with some amusement, the visitors effect on the people, he wondered if he did somehow feed off fear. ' any realm in the north is of interest, since it is long since I have been there, I have an agreement with Enedwaith, in trade, but no more. News reaches us slowly so far south, - but what is your interest here, Harad always responded to Mordors call, once '

[Alcorad]

Alcorad grinned slightly once more looking around at the lavish decore of the great temple, considering how much wealth Harad actually had. "I come to Harad in search of military alliance. You see, the tribes of Haradwaith are indeed scattered and I am sure that even the great God of Harad is having issues uniting them. If you were to allow me to step into things within your borders, perhaps the ancient presence of the Dark God of Mordor would drive them together once more. An interesting proposition is it not? In exchange all I would ask for is Harad's loyalty in Mordor's campaigns against Middle Earth."

[Raithen Anar]

' Ah and you think I would trust you? ' Raithen laughed, ' however you do speak truth, Harad is primarily tribal, the only time they are not slaughtering one another, is if they are fighting some-one else, perhaps a campaign or several beyond their lands would give them a sense of perspective. They still worship the Dark, there are many ancient blood temples. So, the proposal is an interesting one, yes, '

[Alcorad]

Alcorad grinned malevolently, his eyes narrowed and his eyes fixed upon Raithen's with an unnatural darkness. "Then you shall accept?" he asked, his voice polluting the air with contempt and malice. "It would be wise."

(sorry for the short little post. im lazy.)

[Raithen Anar]

' Do not mistake me, ' Raithens eyes were opaque as always, ' I do not fear you, or anything, because I know my ultimate fate, the same as all cursed Ainur, the Void. The only reason I avoid it, is that I can think of few things more dull than scratching my existential arse in some no-place, listening to Morgoth and Sauron whining along with anything else which happens to have landed up there.
So do not threaten, because I have nothing to loose but a rather nice lifestyle,- and do not threaten pain, because, ' he flashed an icy smile, ' I enjoy pain, both giving it and receiving it, I am purely sado-masochistic, you see, ' ' he folded his arms, ' I'll send you half my Eagles, that is only five hundred, as that unit is still growing, but one is are worth four normal Haradhrim, and since my troops are scattered, two thousand cavalry, take it or leave it. I have things to do myself in Harad, that do not involve any other realm '


( short posts in conversations don't bother me, unless it's '' Yes. '' )

[Alcorad]

Alcorad's curled his lips into a smile and beared sharp fangs, his eyes growing darker into an almost blood-red crimson. Up until now the meeting had been rather boring, simply looking here and there at the various riches of the Temple and while they were extravagent to the highest degree, they could not truly impress him. The Annatar had revealed his darker side to him and in doing so he had let loose the true demon within for Alcorad to snatch hold of take. "But you are mistaken." he said in a cold voice. "Not all who are cursed are banished but all who are cursed... are dead. You see the Valar are not perfect despite what you may think and atop their tower at Taniquetil they hold many dirty secrets, some so secretive that not even Vaire the Weaver knows of their existence for there is one who can keep many secrets without her knowing. Her spouse, Mandos."

"Through Raithen's eyes could be hinted the slightest essence of his attention and the Lord of Mordor knew that he had hooked him. "I exchanged my fate in the void for something else many years ago in Angband, one of Melkor's greatest of forts. I traded my fate in the void for immortality. It sounds farfetched but it is not. My only purpouse here is to destroy my brother, Morsereg Dindaedel, but in my coming I developed my own ambitions beyond Mandos' blind actions and so I went to Mordor and took up the foundations of Barad-dur and wrought them a'new. I enslaved the feeble minds of the orcs and enlisted the most deadly of warriors, the Legion of Terror, to my service. You see, locked away beyond my Mountain Walls I cannot be destroyed. Even if the Host of the West were to break the Morannon once more and permeate the ranks of the Morannon Guard, my will shall not be undone and the Legion of Terror shall step forth from the Ghash Road and destroy them. They are the Mordorian elites, capable of undoing entire armies for their skills rival the greatest of warriors and even the will of the valar cannot sway entire battles."

My point is that you also can escape the fate of the Void. Join with me and I shall show you or simply restrict yourself to a simple alliance and feel the bitter teeth of death knaw away at your soul as you enter the dark reaches of the void. I do not threaten you nor do I attempt to deceive you. I only foretell the fate that you have already spoken of. You know the truth. What other road is there to take? We are Annatar, Raithen. We can take Middle Earth for ourselves! We came before all and we shall outlast all! Do not let yourself be taken by the foolhardy oafs in Aman."

[Raithen Anar]

' My dear sir, we are all immortal, men elves, Ainur, it is simply where our soul goes when our body is done with which differs, no-one can destroy a soul, it is beyond any law but Eru's, although much can be done with a soul. I happen to like my body, it gives me pleasure, ' he walked to the colonnade of the temple and looked down over the great plaza below, empty now, people gone to their homes, hiding from the darkness, from which one actually could never hide, it was within every-one.
' What is your private war against your brother? ' he asked curiously. ' I have heard of him, even here, ' And more, he thought, unless he was very much mistaken.

[Alcorad]

"You mistake me." Alcorad said with a debvious smile. "I am immortal because I cannot be killed. I am of the undead and my soul itself long ago was taken away into Mandos' care but still I live. I live off of the souls of others. That is how I sustain my body and keep my powers at their peek. There are none who are of the living that may best my abilities for I can outlast them and even I do not know a way to destroy myself although I'm rather hopeful that it stays that way. Perhaps the concept of death is something not so appealing but I assure you it is wonderful. Not since the early days of Utumno have I felt so powerful as I have since the Third Age."

"And my war against my brother is not so much one of battles and skirmish but of my constant attempts to infiltrate his mind and slay him. You see he and I share one thing in common and that is Mandos. While Morsereg was taught the lore of the dead and instructed in the secret arts of Necromancy, I was taken under the wing of Melkor himself although during the War of Wrath Mandos bestowed upon me a gift. He deprived me of a soul in order to grant me eternal life. It was similar for Morsereg although the curse placed upon him by the Lord of the Dead is not yet known to me. That is what I have always tried to figure out. Neither Morsereg nor I can be killed but dear brother thinks that I am still among those of the living. He shall receive a bitter surprise soon enough."