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Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 9:49 am
Joined: 13 Oct 2006 Posts: 1696 Location: Roaming, but dangerous!!!
Imhis seemed to be particularly skilled with his knife-work. Swift and strong moves threw southrons on the ground in every corner. The party easily dispatched the group of southrons that had ambushed them, and now moved ahead. Corvus approached Imhis. "You have learned the blades well. Who has taught you?" Imhis responded: "A master of old. A direct descendant of the Seraph." Corvus nodded, "and if i may, why do you fight against your own kin?" The man looked around. "It is not wise to stir a stabbed manís wound we say in our lands. Itís a good advice."

Corvus let the man and the rest of the party move ahead, as he prepared his bowstring. He took out a long feathered arrow and nocked it slowly. He remembered how many times in his life he had done so, and how many more he would. A southron guard dressed in black came against them screaming. He let the arrow fly rihgt into the manís forehead. He remembered how many times in his life he had done so, and how many more he would. Another band of haradrim came against them, and the first two fell on the ground from the elvesí arrows. Corvus drew his blade and stepped forth. Tuilin drew his blade, Durail drew Flame and Imhis his throwing knives.

The two leading southrons soon found their bellies drifting with a knife in them. The rest found a sword waiting to slash through them. The party moved on and found themselves standing outside a large wooden door. Imhis spoke: "there we are!" "Where?" replied Berethor. Imhis did not turn. "At the altar". He seemed nervous. Corvus knew he should do as well....
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Far, Far beyond the island we dwelt in shapes of twilight
Through draught and weary days
Through grief and endless pain
Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 1:51 pm
Joined: 10 Oct 2005 Posts: 1199 Location: Out on the front line
Durail wipped the blood off of Flame. This was a horrid business, but Imhis didnít seem to mind. Imhis walked up to some strange altar, and looked around it. the others seemed interested in it, but Durail paid it no mind. he would watch the others backs.

sudden yells filled the halls. a southron blades man ran into the room, but was dropped by a throwing knife.
Durail pulled his small knife from the man, hid it back in his cloak and pulled Flame. two more southrons ran in the room, and charged Durail. with a quick move, both were lying dead on the floor. several more poured in, but not one went past Durail. after several minutes, Corvus and Tuilin ran over to help their friend fight off the enemies.
no matter how hard they fought, the southroners still poured in the room.
Imhis motioned the group to follow him during a break in the fighting.
they slipped out a hidden tunnel and proceeded to another room.

"Did you find what you were looking for, Imhis?" Durail asked.
"No, and i doubt if it will be in this temple at all. but we must look here anyway."

Durail guarded the enterance into the room while the others looked around. nothing. they moved into the last room. Imhis looked, but was not finding what he wanted. something was growing dark here. much like Morgokís last battle in mirkwood, but in a weaker version. Corvus looked at Durail, the two held each others gaze for several seconds.

"What is going on here?" Durail asked himself.
Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 4:20 pm
Joined: 14 Mar 2006 Posts: 846 Location: Ames, Iowa
Far away in Khand, farther than far harad, Gagnut and his clan were dwelling in their great caves in the side of the great mountains there. Part of the Ephel Duath, the same mountains that hold the lair of Shelob the spider. There, where the sun was bright and the sand was brighter, many strange thing happened, but Gagnut was sure a secret was hiddden in the evil slopes, somewhere.
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Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 11:41 pm
Joined: 10 Oct 2005 Posts: 1199 Location: Out on the front line
The small company escaped from the temple, and were on the open sands again. The night came on strong and hard, winds blew a cold breeze threw the camp, and caused little rest. Imhis slept well, he was used to this weather, but Tuilin, Corvus, and Berethor slept fitfully, and Durail didnít sleep at all.
He pulled a small piece of dried meat, and chewed it. The feeling of darkness, was disturbing. he pulled Flame, it still glowed lightly, but suddenly grew brighter!

Durail lept to his feet, grabbed his cloak, and headed once again into the darkness. After walking several minutes, he was thrown to the ground with a great force.

He tryed to gather his breath, but it came in short gasps. Durail looked up at his attacker. He wore scale mail of pure gold, which shown bright in the night. at his sides, he had two pole arms, one in each side, each was black and radiated darkness.

"Durail!" the man said in a deep harsh voice. His helmet covered his face, but Durail guessed this man was an easterling.

the man spoke again. "I am the darkness of Harad, the one who holds the power of the one you killed. I hold the powers of Morgok!"
Durail was astonished at the man. He was certainly like Morgok, then it clicked. that power strike hadnít been toward Durail, but toward this easterling! Morgok had anointed a man to take his place! Durail jumped back, and pulled Flame.

The man struke in. His power shocked Durail, but he fought back. both fought hard, but the sun was rising, which seemed to drain the easterlingís strength. the man ran off, and Durail staired off at the running figure. He was out of range, and was fast, Durail would never be able to catch him. he headed back to camp...
elf lvr
Posted: Thu Dec 28, 2006 12:13 am
Joined: 13 Jun 2006 Posts: 3065 Location: Rivendell
Imhis was standing, waiting for Durail to return. As the ranger walked past him, Imhis said nothing. Only stared out into the distance, into which the easterling had run.

It seems we could have more adversaries than I anticipated. This could be interesting...

By the time the others woke up, Imhis and Durail were ready to go. They had a long, hard ride ahead of them to the next temple.


King Ellessar roamed the back room in silent agitation. Having used the palantir, he had discovered the groupís exploits at the first temple. He had not been able to discern the location of the enemy group searching for the plague, nor the face of his hidden enemy. A mysterious cloud of darkness obscured his vision...

He was awakened from his disturbing thoughts by the opening of the door to the chamber. The King turned around, drawing his sword, knowing that no one but him should know of this room.

"Dolenalkar!" The King exclaimed. The man smiled. Metal flashed in Dolenalkarís hand.

Anduril fell to the floor.


A cloaked figure rode quickly from the city, cloak billowing out behind him. It headed South. As it ran from the gates of the city, the horse began to enlongate and change. Its hooves became claws, its body and tail stretched and covered with scales. The head became that of a serpent. It sprouted dark wings and took to the skies.

Dolenalkar smiled upon its back.
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Posted: Thu Dec 28, 2006 9:00 am
Joined: 23 Mar 2006 Posts: 7750 Location: somwhere, over the rainbow way up high. There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby.
Tuilin woke up, still tired from the fighting, temperature, and lack of sleep. He reflected on how close he had been to death multiple times in that chamber. He was not old for an elf, but he was tired. First Moria, Then Mirkwood, then this. With his dreams haunting him all along the way. It didnít help that in the past 2 battles he had mostly been commanding, though this had consisted of some fighting on his part, a lot of it was plain giving orders, and shooting his bow from the rear ranks. Durail and Imhis looked slightly disturbed, he walked up to Durail and asked, "what is the matter, you donít seem yourself this morning?"
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Posted: Thu Dec 28, 2006 7:06 pm
Joined: 10 Oct 2005 Posts: 1199 Location: Out on the front line
Durail looked at Tuilin. He took a deep breath.

"there are several things that haunt my mind..." he broke off. "I was attacked by a warrior, anointed by Morgok, though this does not worry me as much. I feel a darkness over my home land of Gondor. this worries my mind. If i were not here now, i would be with king Elessar..." Durail stopped as Imhis put up his hand.

The group dismounted and rested for a few minutes, then started again.
It was hard going against the wind, but the small band made good progress.

As the group rode on, Durail began to realize the presence of an enemy. none of the others realized it, but the only reason for this was the easterling had cloaked his army, and only Durail knew that presence.

as they rode Durail fingured his throwing daggers, he may be using them soon...
Posted: Thu Dec 28, 2006 7:08 pm
Joined: 19 Mar 2006 Posts: 37 Location:
Pustachio woke up from his disterbed sleep. he looked around the confines of his small cell. The whole ship lurched, and he clumsily reached for support, didnít find it and crashed to the floor. Green with seasickness, he grimaced at the sight of the hard biscuit given to him by his captors, the corsairs of umbar, and closed his eyes.

He wanted to leave the shire. His parents could not understand this and disowned him. He left his home to the west, hoping to find some ship of elves to take him wherever they kept leaving to. He had been waiting on the rocks by the shore, starving, eating whatever he could find. He decided that the shire didnít sound so bad after all, but it was too late now. Then, as he was about to leave he saw a white sqaure in the distance, he jumped straight up in excitment and shouted at the top of his lungs...

"Poop!" cried Pustachio as the ship heaved in itís choppy movements. His hate of the sea grew with each day of the cramped little room that he was forced to live in.

The days past. Eventually the seasickness which had bogged Pustachio down so much dissipeared. He began to grow restless. The confines of his cell seemed to grow tighter and tighter. His room contained a small window which he peered through for hours each day.

One bright morning, Pustachio was awakened by shouts and sharp mettalic clangs. He looked out his window and was suprised at seeing the hull of a dark, well-worn ship blocking his view of the sea. Every once and a while a body would fall into the sea, and he could make out huge flaming arrows flying amid the ships. He watched in interest as the battle raged between both ships, until eventually the arrows stopped flying and the noise mellowed to the moans of the dying. He was startled by a loud crashing noise at his door and soon enough the door was opened to reveal a sun-darkened sailor wielding a large bloody axe. The pirate was suprised at finding Pustachio, and slightly dissipointed. He grabbed the hobbit and dragged him ruffly by the shoulder out of the room. Pustachio stared wide-eyed at the outside of the ship, bodies lay along the deck as he was taken up from the hold where he had been kept all those miserible days. There were many pirates that searched the ship for anything worth keeping. Pustachioís fate was much better then the captain of the defeated ship. He watched as the man was left on his ship with (work in progress)
Posted: Sun Dec 31, 2006 10:09 am
Joined: 13 Oct 2006 Posts: 1696 Location: Roaming, but dangerous!!!
The party moved on in the desert lands on their quest. Corvus senced something he was not sure of. Some force too great and terrible, and one that he had seen before. Or not. The elf fell into a vision. He saw the ancient battle, and southrons fighting on the side of orcs in the Great War. DíSparilís body falling dead, a strange southron warrior sitting behind him, and Sauron marching towards him. Sauronís staff and darkness. The vision then turned joyful, as he saw himself roaming in the northern wilderness.

Images of his returning to Rivendell came on Corvusí mind. Images of returning to his beloved wife. Next to the three young princes she stood, and she fled with her beloved into their bedroom. Then she turned to face him, but as she lay on the bed, she slept cold and tired. Her words were: "Nutha te estel edain." <Bring hope to the Dunedain>. How? How was he supposed to? "The curse of the plague must be stopped. Kings of oldhave fallen already to it. Elessarís rule is still fragile. Should he fall, the haradrim will invade the north."

"I so long to see you again my beloved wife." "Your fate is not in Mantosí quarters. It is by Elrondís side after the shadow is finished and light is spilr upon our lands. I sence in your heart that you do not let go of me. I also sence a hunter within you. A terrible beast you managed to tame for so long. Let light be spilled. Namarie."

Corvus awoke. Durail was sitting beside him. "What did you see?"

Corvus stood still. "Nothing of interest. Except that an older power is gaining upon us. I am not sure who or what it is. But it is strange. It is as if there are two great powers lurking upon us. I greatly fear the one, but the other is not so immense...."

Durail replied. "The force you are sencing, the old one, does it remind you of anyone we fought?.... Recently?"

Then it struck Corvus! "It was Morgokís foce! But it is so altered! Changed..."

"His force now haunts another body. I faced it already. It is quite strong."

"How is it related to the plague?"

"Your guess is as good as mine Corvus."

Imhis came in the camp, with a dead animal on his shouders. "We shall rest tonight. Then we shall head to a friendly village 20 miles to the east to replenish our supplies. The scripts i deciphered show that to unleash the plague, a strong sorcerer must have Sauronís dagger. It was used long ago, when the plague was let out in Morgothís name. The southern haradrim still hold it, so by taking possesion of it, we end it here."

Berethor replied: "So simple?" Imhis turned to face him with a surprised look in his eyes. "Yes that simple. We just have to find a dagger somewhere in Harad. A DAGGER SOMEWHERE IN HARAD. I cannot even recognise it yet. I hope that it is more well described in the other temples. Or maybe even guarded there."

The next morning, the party had arrived in the village Imhis spoke of. Tuilin and Imhis took care of most of the purchases the band needed to make. Men came to take a look at the party, and most of them to greet them friendly. There was however a band of men who did not seem so friendly. As the others cheered to face Elessarís host, those others laughed at them. Corvus spoke to them. "May we be of assistance, or do you just want to laugh at us?" One of them came closer "We need no assistance from you, lepricorns and slaves of gondorian dogs. Leave our lands or the snakes shall eat your bodies." Corvus laughed hard. "And who will throw them at the snakes? You? Or your pathetic gang of Sauronís slaves?"

The man came at 2 feet distance from Corvus. Silence was around. "My name is Leorak. I have fought in the siege of Minas Tirith and suffered your armies. Most of my men have as well. I find the life of an pointy-ear little to stop my will. I have suffered men, elves, dwarves and undead in battle. I can suffer you."

"My name is Corvus. I have fought on this earth much before your pathetic mind can reach. I have suffered orcs, trolls, uruk-hai, sorcerers whoíd make you tremble and even Sauron himself. But i cannot suffer your stenchful breath, secondborn."

A flame burned in the eyes of both. Leorak drew his sword, and hit hard. Corvusí avenger swinged to parry, and dodged the man on the ground. With one swift strike, Corvus disarmed him. "He pointed his sword at the manís neck. "Leave now and tell your masters that the Heretic is after them." The others darenít move. Leorak got up crawling and run away to a horse. He rode it and strode southwards. His men slowly followed him.

Imhis went to Corvusí side. "Good job that should scare him. And the ones who sent him. Leorak is a leader of mercenaries, but a weakling himself. He does not belong in there lands. We should be leaving."
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Far, Far beyond the island we dwelt in shapes of twilight
Through draught and weary days
Through grief and endless pain
Posted: Sun Dec 31, 2006 9:06 pm
Joined: 19 Mar 2006 Posts: 37 Location:
Pustachio was standing at the deck railing of the ship. He watched the waves rolling with the ship, the black sails looked like pillows as they filled with the strong north wind. The peacefull elements were strikingly different from the noises of the crew that ran the ship. Fights were a usual part of the goings on of the ship. The pirates off duty sat around gambling, arguing, and dozing off on the messy unorganized deck. A cry peirced from the top of the crows nest,"Land ho!". The corsairs jumped from watever they had been doing and ran over to the bow of the ship to see long waited for shoreline.
Pustachio was crushed. He was being sold in an auction as a slave. He hated the pirates. But he couldnít do anything to stop them. The weather was extremely hot. he had no idea where they were though. He was in the middle of a city surrounded by a large crowd of Desert men. The heat was getting to him. Hr hadnít had but a small amount of water for couple days. He had never seen people like these before. The loud voices of the pirates sounded like a thunderstorm. He was surounded by the huge heavily clothed men. He was grabbed by the collar and taken to one of the desert men. He tripped and fell in the sand. Everything went dark...
Last edited by YourStinkenFace on Mon Jan 01, 2007 10:50 pm; edited 1 time in total

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