The Malledhrim

Lothlórien was where they were born; The Malledhrim, The Golden Host, which were not a spectacular force in their youth. Small groups, called 'Belegothron' (modern units go by the same name, but many others exist now; such as Glandir (Ranger), Othron (Warrior) and Dirgon (Captain), with the sect leaders titled Hîrgon (Lord Captain)) were the main force of what is now a driving force, in the wars of the modern day. The Malledhrim have grown in time and power.

As the land of Lórien was planted, and the first saplings of the Mallorn Tree began to grow; The Malledhrim came into use. As Amroth, King of Lórien Old, was sitting in his throne; there came Rosloch, the Strong; Leader of the First Battalion. “Let it be so” said Amroth, whom knew the purpose; and what may well come after. Thus, The Malledhrim came into existence, proper. Born with a purpose, to protect the Elven land of Lothlórien. To keep it's purity unhindered, and to smite the foes of Good.

Yet they are not, as some would think, an army. The Malledhrim have been called twice to duty. Once afore, in Amroth's time; and now today. Ready for all perils. Willing to lay down their lives, if necessary; soldiers, brothers, sisters. They will fight valiantly, for their cause. But as time progresses, and changes all that surrounds; so do the Order. What once guarded simple Lothlórien, now holds sway with the people of Lindon, Mirkwood and Imladris. Of the Elder Noldo, too; do they hold sway with. They are a force within their own right. Proud to the end.



Heroic deeds gather aplenty in the tales of The Malledhrim. From simple healers to valiant warriors. Such like Rosloch the Strong, First Leader, who is rumoured to have slain thirty orcs single-handedly, before being slain himself. Or like Lindis, the Sweet; who's singing reminded many of the Lady Lúthien. Each Hero has their name followed by great deeds. Most have passed the boundaries of this world, into the next. Some wander, and are lost to all but themselves. The fallen rest 'neath cairns of memory, untouched by friend and foe alike for centuries. Yet, for their sacrifice; plenty is the reward, and each who has been felled by bow, blade or brawn, has the saying attributed to their names; "Death is not the greatest loss in Life."

The Malledhrim, of whom you see today; are not the full force. In the North, there is the Taur Círbann (Forest Haven), and in the Southlands, scout the Orchal Maethor (Superior Warrior), and in the haven of Lórien, awaiting the call when war is announced; Bell Tulu (Strong Support). Each contingent holds a leader. Each contingent is named 'The Malledhrim'. Each one of them is tasked with a singular objective, known only to them and their leaders; and each contingent of The Malledhrim, of which this one is called 'Lamath uin le Taur' (Echo of the Forest), has lost forces in battle, to the horrors of the Evil Ones, in the course of their lives.

Of the Heroes and Heroines of The Malledhrim

On Rosloch the Strong
Rosloch was not born in Lothlórien, but came from afar. His strength was unmatched in his time, and was oft to speak through his strength, not through his mind. He served The Malledhrim when they called for aid; and rose through their ranks at speed. Many times Orcs fell from his sword, and his shield protected him from their attacks. But it did not last, and in his final hour; he gave forth a roar that stunned the fiercest of the Orc rabble until his breath ebbed away, as did his life.

On Lindis, the Sweet
Lindis bore love for all things Good. The flowers, the fields and the children of Elf lands seemed to long for her presence. When she was near, burdens seemed lifted; sorrows forgotten and grief removed. Lindis was a fair Elf-maiden, who cared for the Soldiers who returned from battle. Her efforts earned her a place within the Ranks of The Malledhrim, many centuries ago; yet she did not participate in the fighting, save to tend to the wounded. It is said she sang such songs of sweetness, they reminded many of Lúthien Tinúviel. Yet for all her similarities, she could not make Mandos pity; and was taken from the world too young. Across in the West, she rests; singing her songs to the fallen and loved that she remembers.