|Founding date||26th May '08|
|Goal||An elven House as of an Age gone by; a fighting company of Elf-Captains|
|Main area of operations||Ettenmoors, Eregion, Moria, Lothlórien, Mirkwood|
Death, resurrection, re-birth…
One by one the great Elf-lords of Gondolin fell, and after Ecthelion and Turgon High-King had passed into the Halls of Mandos, Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower led the fleeing column of Gondolindrim from the city southward via Idril’s Secret Way, and passed up into the Eagle’s Cleft - Cirith Thoronath - and moved along the narrow pass there, a cliff to one hand and a sheer drop to the other.
They had already begun the difficult passage when a hail of stones came from above, hurled by orcs, and from behind a Balrog came upon them, sent to prevent their escape from the city. Glorfindel blocked it and there ensued a great battle upon the heights. Glorfindel hewed its arm, stabbed it in the belly, and wrestled with it, but to defeat his foe forced his weight against it, forcing it over the brink and into the abyss. But as the Balrog fell it reached out and grabbed his long golden hair, pulling him back down over the edge of the cliff with it.
He perished in the fall, but the eagles came and drove the orcs off the mountain-side, and his body was borne up by Thorondor - King of the Great Eagles, and a cairn was made for him high in the pass despite their haste, for after this deed did the exiles escape the ruin of Gondolin.
Later upon his stone cairn grew yellow flowers - Celandine, despite its remote and harsh location.
And thus after the Elf-lord’s passing, did grow the flower of his house upon ground which should not prosper life. In essence from death sprung life, against all likelihood. Light conquered darkness, and blossomed in the place of loss.
I speak often of the need to increase our kind’s involvement in the coming war which approaches Middle-earth. I speak of how instead of backwardly lamenting the memories of deeds and glories of our past, we should instead look forward to champion the causes of those beacons of light whom strive to hold back the Shadow; Lady Galadriel, Celeborn, Lord Elrond, Gildor Inglorion, Glorfindel, and Círdan are still left of The Wise.
As the Fellowship of the Ring heads further southward, we would be remiss to forget our problems remaining here in the north. The skirmishes increase upon the fields of Angmar and the Ettenmoors, the orc incursions upon the North Downs, and into the Lone-lands, and the Trollshaws. The passes of the Hithaeglir are closed not only by snow, but by the spear and knife of goblin and troll also. We are all but cut-off from fair and mighty Lothlórien, whom itself finds its borders beset by the Shadow drifting westward from fell Dol Guldur.
These are matters that we may act upon, and affect. There are amongst us many brave and strong warriors, and in this hour of approaching war, it is this which The Wise have most need of. Strong Eldar of conviction, and action. I say to you, I challenge you Quendi Hestor, you Elf-Captains; to take up your swords, your spears, your knives, and your bows, and to stand your post in the defence of Middle-earth; in defence of Imladris and Falathlorn, and Lothlórien, in defence of the homes of those whom have not the heart to take a post themselves.
The time for talk is done; the time for action is now.
So I give to you the Bar-en-Celandine, the House of the Celandine, and like that small golden flower which grew in the place of death and loss, we have risen from where we should not be able, from the ruin of what once was, into something new, something stronger, something with purpose, direction, and vigour.
A fighting company of Elf-Captains of note and renown, growing in numbers and strength daily, whom will carry the fight to the Enemy, whom will fight - actively - to hold back the Shadow.
I challenge you to lift your sword blades, your spear tips, and pull your bow strings.
Will you heed my clarion call Elf-Captains?