The southern sun shone brightly over the deserts of Far Harad. Unlike the western coasts and the area around the great river, no major cities or population centers existed in the arid climate of this far Southeastern region. Mostly, the people lived in small villages, or wandered about as nomads, scratching whatever living they could from the sand and rocks of the desert. Here, the War of the Ring wasn't over, and though the Southrons were officially at peace, and even paying tribute, to Gondor, out there not much mattered except the commands of the Archduke. Not even the King at Umbar could force the wild and free-spirited people of this harsh region to obey his commands. They had obeyed his successor, but that was mainly because his command, 'Got to war,' was exactly what they wanted to hear. Now, however, with peace the rule now, the people grew restless.
Especially disconted was a twenty-three year old warrior, Castimir, named for the greatest of all the Harad kings, the man who had usurped the throne of Gondor countless ages ago. He was a very skilled fighter, and was acknowledged to be the strongest in the deserts of Far Harad. Not only was he strong, but also very cunning. Of him it was said, 'he can control the Mumakil by force of his arm, as well as by force of his wit.' He was a man to be feared. And now, on that bright hot summer day, an something was about to happen that would change things. Castimir rode in the train of the Archduke of Far Harad, an ancient graybeard from out west, who lived first of all his title and second of all his meals, and at every occasion made the most impressive show possible for these 'simple easterners.' To him, the archdukeship was a chore, and a hard one at that. Hunting out among the cacti, seeking the large vultures of that area seemed to be his favorite activity these days. So every day, he rode out with the best warriors to hunt for vultures. But that day something quite different happened.
"There, in the sky sire, see them?" Castimir asked the archduke as several large birds flew overhead.
"Where?" The old man asked excitedly, squinting into the sun and whipping his bow into position.
"They're almost directly above us." Castimir replied, though in fact they were at more of an angle, flying directly into the sunlight.
"Shoot them, everyone, shoot straight up!" The excited archduke exclaimed. Obediently his westerner guards fired directly up, while the easterners stepped away. They knew exactly what Castimir was up to, and it was about time, in their opinion. The arrows flew upwards, and at a slight angle.
"This way," Castimir called. His keen eyes saw the descent of the barbed shafts, shafts which had been dipped by his own hands into a deadly poison, and one which most of the people of Far Harad had an immunity to. Theothers followed him, and so did the archduke.
"Where'd they go?" he asked Castimir as he ran up.
"There!" Castimir replied as the first shaft struck one of the western guards. In no time the storm of arrows which the westerners had so happily unleashed into the skies rained down on them, with Castimir and his followers stepping aside and letting their archduke fall. When the last shaft landed, Castimit set the example by drawing his long broadsword and plunging it intot he dying archduke. The others followed suit, and soon the four blades were stained red with blood.
"Well done," Castimir said to them, "Now we go to the village, and I shall take his office."
"We're with you, sire," one of them replied softly. He was a tall muscled man named Tiroth, and thrust in his belt was a large heavy axe, As well as his sword-sheath.
"And you, Githnok?" Castimir asked another.
"Yes my liege," he replied.
"And you, Noriln?"
"Aye aye sir." The former Corsair replied.
"What of you, Carlon?" Castimir asked the final member of his little group of followers. These four he intended to be his chief officials. They had already pledged loyalty to him, but it never hurt to make sure…
"I shall follow you, lord," Carlon replied.
"Good," Castimit said. "Now, we take the bodies to the main village. There should be no trouble finding willing men, and as long as the people support us, the King at Umbar will have to accept us."