Many thanks, Elemtilas! I'll try not to disappoint…
Next up (because now that I've established the Nine Races I have an order to keep to):
ON THE LAMPS OF THE DÁIN AND THE STORY OF INGO THE LION
On the Arrival of Angano
Angano was a spirit in the service of Aulë, and was known among the Noldor; his name means "man of iron", for this was the metal he worked best with, but he taught them much else, and learned as much and more from his brethren and high lord. And not only with iron did he love to work, but also with
mithril (in Donaba
niirè-bèng "snow iron" and other metals, and most of all with light.
When he first came to the shores of Harad, there was no great desert there; instead, much of the land was covered with grass, and there roamed the greater
mûmakil, called
uchuridò by the natives, earth-spirits as Angano was and yet in the service of Irmo lord of dreams. But it was in the shadow the Grey Mountains that he found what he sought: a tough, hardy race of men, who mined gold from the hills and yet loved the sun and stars.
Among them Angano lived as a smith, not the first but the best, and started many a ritual concerning the appeasement of the spirits who lived within the hills and in the forges. And he made their bodies stronger, and their energy boundless; and to the strongest, who worked hardest under his tutelage and made the most intricate crafts, he gave invulnerability to any fire or heat that Elf or Dwarf could stand, and hotter. The
iniirèyè, they were called, the Men of Iron; for they could place their hands--or their heads--into the heart of a flame, and still feel cool. These things Angano gave to them, and as many skills as he could provide; for Aulë had compelled him to seek out those who could be kin to the Dwarves, and teach them that they might join their cousins in smith-craft in the south. Here alone in the South was the mining of
mithril commenced, for the ores of true-silver ran deep within the Grey Mountains, and though many blessings were needed to pacify the mountain spirits for its taking there was no great shortage.
But the greatest gift by far that he gave was the making of the
okôduchi. Far in the north the Noldor and Khazad had learned to trap the light of stars and sun and moon--light birthed from the Two Trees in some part or another--in crystals of a material unknown to later and lesser smiths of any land. These shone with a pale light of their own, and when brought into the light and hallowed by rituals of the smithy sparkled and gleamed as reflections of the light itself--smaller and earth-bound and yet as pure and precious. So it was in the north; and in the south, where Arien passed directly overhead, and the stars of North and South alike could be seen, such light was there to capture that it was as though the Silmarils were made again, or the Arkenstone given its long-lost kin.
And by all the tribes across the mud-plains and mountains were these revered, as the
okôduchi took their place as kings-in-light by right of the gems wrought by the Family. There are many spirits revered in these lands, and many metals given shape and form. But most of all the kings of the south revere
Irduyèdò, lord of the earth, and his servant
Iniirèyè-waba, Father of the Iron Men.
On the Story of Ingo the Lion in Darkness (Part I)
An old chant among the Iyuro (technically the Ijin-Iyuro "children of the yams") was recorded by an Umbarian traveller in the late 19th Century of the Third Age. Records are scanty; the Iyuro only developed a writing system of their own once they came under Sauron's control for the second time, and few put their history into words that Sauron might steal--and there were a great many
araynu-n-ihirdu (bards or "word-smiths") killed under his rule, their words replaced with stories from the Dark Lands. But this, among others, survived: the story of Tomuri-hinggo, the Lion in Darkness, set over three and a half thousand years before the telling of the tale.
Originally called Tumaadong-è-hinggo, the Lion By Labour, his family ruled the city of Kôdunu-Hadu on the shores of Lake Jumaloka, formed from the streams from the Grey Mountains. A trading city, to be sure--and yet a prosperous one, for it also was the source of much gold, panned from the river or mined from the hills. Tumaadong-è-hinggo was no prince, at least not at first; he was a lesser son of a lesser son of the old clan chief. And yet a great many paths were open to him in this way. He had talent enough for smith-craft, and indeed did learn--enough to give him favour in the eyes of the king, and stoke the fires of envy in others of purer blood (for his was a mixed heritage, his mother a woman from the Gladhrim in the far south). And so he was sent forth on a mission that many called impossible: to seek out the Pygmies who were born the Children of Irduyèdò, into the cold lands of the north. Duujaka, the Land of Shadow, they called that place, for in the Grey Mountains the capital of the Iron Men was set at a place where at noon the sun cast no shadow save beneath, and because of this those Men called themselves blessed. And he took with him eleven lamps of purest sunlight, forged in his own forge (with the aid of his wife and sons) under the glare of the noonday sun as it passed overhead on the Spring Equinox.
Long did he wander, first through his own lands, then through the kingdoms of Manhir and Iflak and Harad, and finally to the shores of Eriador where the Númenoreans had made their camps. He fought bravely against an incursion from Westernesse in the lands around Umbar, coating his naked body with oil and setting himself alight before charging into the fight with mace and spear and shield. (The traveller speculates in the margins that he may be the incarnation of the famed and feared Man of Fire and Iron from Umbarian folktales, born in the deep south of the world, whose skin burned with demonic flames and whose iron-tipped spears never missed their mark.)
It was a full year of travel by boat and foot before he came to the "mountains north twinned with mountains south, the mirror of the world we know, the homes of the Children of Irduyèdò". And to the Children he gave one of his eleven lamps, and they welcomed him as a long-lost fellow. Yet he was disappointed, the legend says. The Children of Irduyèdò (they called themselves
haza) were indeed pygmies, and pale as albinos but with hair of fire and obsidian, and beards like shamans. And their craft, such as he saw, was great--but not so great as the crafts left behind him, when the legends had talked of halls hollowed out of mountains and lit by lamps such as his own. He learned of their history, and a little of their smithing-methods, and learned also to love the intricate designs they wrought. But to learn more, they told him, he would have to leave the Blue Mountains, and travel to the First Home,
Hazadò, to learn more from observing the dwarves at work there.
"And who lives in the lands between your mountain and theirs?" he asked.
"
Urusaji," they told him. "They call themselves the
Elida. They are not Men or Pygmies, but they were the first to wake on Middle-Earth. They, too, have mighty smiths; and there are secret crafts they keep now that they will not share with us or anyone else. Nor are they the crafts known to the Dwarves of old, but something new. There are some of our kin in the east who have benefitted from their learning, it seems."
And the Lion-By-Labour was curious, and anger arose in his heart; for what right did any have to learn such powerful things that did not come from Irduyèdò?
Therefore he agreed to walk with the dwarves on the road to Hazadò; but secretly he planned to visit the
urusaji and beg an apprenticeship of them, in exchange for a lamp of sunlight.
Long did they travel, across green fields of short, sweet grass, through forests darker and drier than any seen in the South. And when they came to Eregidò [poss. Eregion?] the Lion-By-Labour found the halls of the
uhusaji open to him. And in those halls he found many smiths, as great as any Pygmy he had met before; but he also saw a great spirit, pale as milk and yet more powerful than any being he had encountered. And to him he bowed, not the
urusaji, and the Lion-By-Labour offered him the lamp, and told him of his far country and their blessing by Irduyèdò, Great Lord of the Earth.
That spirit was
Lekidòyè, Giver of Great Gifts, brother of Iniirèyè-waba. And he spoke to the Lion-By-Labour, explaining that it was the duty of all good followers of the Lord of the Earth to spread his might and power wheresoever they could, that those unblessed by him might benefit. For this reason, he said, he had come to the
urusaji--to grant unto them knowledge that might enrich all of the world. And of course he would teach him; if he so desired, he could have any smith-craft under the sun. "Seek me out once you have tired of the dwarves," he said, "and as did my brother before me I will give your people a great gift. But keep my knowledge hidden; it is taboo to speak of the Elder Children of Irduyèdò in front of the Younger, and they would cast you out and steal the lamps you have laboured so hard to create. It is one thing to give willingly; quite another to have it snatched brazenly from you as punishment for breaking a custom you knew nothing of."
And the Lion-By-Labour thanked the great spirit, and the spirit gave unto him an armband that would allow him to find even the smallest sources of
mithril for his lamps.
Hensilith he called it, the Silver Eye, but the Lion deemed it
Dangikeng-masu, the Second Gift [the traveller notes that the first lamps that once shone in the halls of Kôdunu-Hadu before the Nazgûl attacks were called the First Gift]. And he came to scorn the
urusaji as did the Pygmies in their own way, but for different reasons; for he saw that they believed their craft all their own, and sought to make something other than the Giver of Great Gifts decreed. But naught he told of his thoughts, until he returned home and bade the minstrels sing his story.