A Brief History of Egladil

The Rise and Reign of Egladil: Chronicle of the Mortal Empire

As compiled by the Imperial Historians of Amon Lhaw, sealed by decree of Emperor Trajan I

I. Foundations Amidst Ashes
The Empire of Egladil was not born in glory, but in aftermath. In the closing days of the Sixth Age, after the fall of the Elven High Kings and the sorrowful retreat of the Firstborn into the veiled realm of Hithliniath, the world was fractured, rudderless, and soaked in ruin.

It was then that Egladil rose.

The Elves, though withdrawing, did not forget their mortal allies. To the descendants of Húrin—a mortal who had stood beside the Elves in the darkness of the Sundering War, shunning Morgath and all his legions—they gave great gifts: the arts of stonecraft and smithing, the secrets of letters, enchantment, and the wisdom of state. These were not gifts of charity, but of respect—a torch passed in the belief that Men might carry forward what the Elder Races could no longer sustain.

Húrin’s line settled along the western banks of the Anduin, raising their seat of power in what would become Amon Lhaw. To this stronghold, ringed in walls and wisdom, came the scattered peoples of the land, seeking refuge and order in the wake of chaos. The city grew quickly, fed by the river, protected by ancient knowledge, and lit by the first sparks of human ambition. Thus began the rise of Egladil.

II. The Forging of the Legions
The early Empire, though rich in knowledge, lacked a standing force. When raiders—fallen men and orcs—poured from the Wilderlands and descended into Hildorien and the Firienholt, the warriors of Egladil, brave though they were, proved unequal to the threat. They were scattered and slaughtered, and the Empire's survival hung by a thread.

Then came Ostoher, fifth descendant of Húrin, who reformed the defense of the realm into what would become the Imperial Legions. He rejected the noble-born warbands of old and instead birthed a new institution: the citizen-soldier. Trained, equipped, and promoted by merit, the Legions became not merely an army, but the instrument of Imperial will.

With this new force, Egladil pushed back the invaders—driving them beyond the Ered Lithui and through the Cirith Gorgor, reclaiming stability and planting the seeds of expansion.

III. Wars of Expansion and Integration
Fearing that passivity would once again invite destruction, Ostoher and his successors waged preemptive war. Wherever the Legions marched, civilization followed. New provinces were conquered not to be crushed, but integrated. Peoples were not exterminated, but welcomed, granted roads, aqueducts, law, and citizenship—if they would take up arms and serve.

Through this cycle of conquest and assimilation, the Empire stretched from mountain to sea. The Pax Egladila brought centuries of relative peace and order, and the Legions were venerated as protectors of empire and architects of progress.

IV. The Fourteenth Century Collapse
This golden age fractured in the Fourteenth Century of the Seventh Age, when a devastating plague swept across the Empire. Between one quarter and one third of the population perished. Crops failed. Trade faltered. Revenue dried to dust. With no manpower to hold distant borders, the Legions were forced to retreat.

The campaign in Arman was abandoned. The Wilderlands were left to fall. In their place rose terror: orcs from Fos Almir, fallen men, and warlords filled the vacuum. The Empire shrank, bleeding both land and pride. The kingdom of Duledwath was the first to be released; Hildorien would become the most bitter.

Given independence to act as a buffer against the darkness of Fos Almir, Hildorien has never forgiven the betrayal. In retaliation, it now taxes and throttles all river traffic along the lower Anduin, slowly starving the imperial economy by bleeding Andros, the Empire's greatest port, nearly dry.

V. The Reign of Trajan I — The Iron Renaissance
In the twilight of the Seventh Age rose Trajan I, a man born not of prophecy, but of will. Crowned in a time of decay, he did not raise monuments to the past—he rebuilt the future.

He reinvested in crumbling infrastructure, restored the roads and canals, reopened schools and scriptoria, and forced the nobility to pay for the empire they had long exploited. Bridges now stand. Barges once again flow along the Anduin. Literacy is common among the common folk. The Empire breathes anew.

He has also reforged the Legions. No longer are they dumping grounds for the desperate; they are once again the pride of the Empire, lean and lethal, and foreign powers have taken notice. Tributes return. Alliances stir. Egladil rises.

But such miracles come at a cost.

The imperial coffers are nearly empty. The nobles grumble under new taxes. And Trajan, now 77, has no named heir. Whispers coil in the halls of Amon Lhaw. Plots take root beneath the marble colonnades. The Empire may stand renewed in stone—but its future remains unwritten.

And beyond its borders, the forges of Fos Almir burn once more.