RPG -==The Silmarillion==-

[Drix D'Zanth]

-=The Silmarillion=-
[IMG]http://www.lordotrings.com/images/art/howe18.jpg[/IMG]

[i] ?Therefore Morgoth came, climbing slowly from his subterranean throne, and the rumour of his feet was like thunder underground. And he issued forth clad in black armour; and he stood before the King like a tower, iron-crowned, and his vast shield, sable unblazoned, cast a shadow over him like a stormcloud. But Fingolfin gleamed beneath it as a star; for his mail was overlaid with silver, and his blew shield was set with crystals; and he drew his sword Ringil, that glittered like ice.
Then Morgoth hurled aloft Grond, the Hammer of the Underworld, and swung it down like a bolt of thunder. But Fingolfin sprang aside, and Grond rent a mighty pit in the earth, whence smoke and fire darted. Many times Morgoth essayed to smite him, and each time Fingolfin leaped away, as lighting shoots from under a dark cloud; and he wounded Morgoth with seven wounds, and seven times Morgoth gave a cry of anguish, whereat the hosts of Angband fell upon their faces in dismay, and the cries echoed in the Northlands.
But at the last the King grew weary, and Morgoth bore down his shield upon him. Thrice he was crushed to his knees, and thrice arose again and bore up his broken shield and stricken helm. But the earth was all rent and pitted about him, and he stumbled and fell backward before the feet of Morgoth; and Morgoth set his left foot upon his neck, and the weight of it was like a fallen hill. Yet with his last and desperate stroke Fingolfin hewed the foot with Ringil, and the blood gushed forth black and smoking and filled the pits of Grond.
Thus died Fingolfin, High King of the Noldor, most proud and valiant of the Elven-kings of old?[/i] ?The Silmarillion.
[color=green]
Mithrim and the land of the echoing mountains are no longer filled with the song of elves. Their voices are being found through the courage of a few, and desperation of the masses. Though the war is at a loss, the determined are stalwart, and the mighty remain. From the hidden cities of Gondolin, to the deepening forest of Doriath, the will of free people is carried.

A new race has awoken within Beleriand, the voices of Men now join the Elves. Though frail in constitution and mortal in effence, they do not fare any less than elves against the horrors of Morgoth Bauglir, the Darkest of Lords.

The greatest of elves before Fingolfin, and his half brother, Fëanor has fallen as well. His empire ruled by the seven sons schisms from the other Noldor, and their gates are not welcome to the Sindar of Doriath either. The Dwarves and their stout race are sitting irate and immobile in their fortresses of stone. They leer from their precipices like the meager, despite their affinity towards good.

The one hope of the free Kingdom lies in the initiative of the Sindar?s Highest king, Thingol Greymantle. In his realm of Menengroth, the thousand caves, he sits on a throne of urgency wrought by disaster. Upon seeing the failings of his Noldor brethren, he is about to forgive the damages of Fëanor?s Oath, and reunite the elves to fight against Angband once more. [/color]
[color=darkblue]
Calling from the reaches of Ossiriand to Mirthrim, from Sirion, to the Blue Mountains. Warriors have been issued forth to assemble before the Great King in an effort to assemble a coalition of spirit. Warriors from Doriath came; Ctar Cuthalion son of the legendary Beleg. Ranforne Drisvien of the Garden, Istari of Yavanna. Ruben Thorne, powerful werewolf willing to fight for the honor of his kind in the distrust of his peers.

Then men from the far came. Garin Pinehammer, glowing as the Glithoniel Star in mithril, wrought of the finest, and bearing a host within his own presence. Delovar Andúnie, Son of Beor and his affiliation accompanied Jedgar Nieta from Nargothrond, a great kingdom not unlike Menengroth.
Lastly, Turgon, son of Fingolfin and Lord of the Hidden realm of Gondolin came. His banner bearers heralding the march of a thousand, steel-armed elves behind him. Coming to join within the council of the wise Thingol through his own appearance, Turgon stands tall and glittering beside the banner of the Trees.

As more people are expected to enter the realm, Thingol allows the necessary commodities to be obtained, and introductions to be echanged. In due course you shall be called to him. [/color]

-----------------------------------------------
[color=darkred]
The Forces of Darkness are not without their champions. The great wizard, Maiar of Aulë, Lieutenant of Morgoth, and Black wizard; SAURON appears at the gates of Thangodrim, the three volcanic peaks billowing plumes of ash over the northern wastes. From this throne, he prepares the shadow to issue forth. In preparation he has called upon three captains. Isen`tar, greatest of the fallen elves, and imbued by the will of the Dark Lord. This elven sorcerer resides at Sauron?s side waiting for his call to arm. Grojek Urkuhi, Lord of the Uruks under Saruon, resides upon Sauron?s left. Looking upon the realm of the free with anger and malice. Finally, the werewolf Drauglin, and father to the defected kind has brought many of his species to serve the Shadow.

The time quickly approaches in which the land of Beleriand and fates of all people are to be decided?.
[/color]
(Begin your introductory posts, welcome to the game :D )

[Jokopoko]

[COLOR=TEAL][SIZE=1][B]OOC: Can I be the first to say "Finally". I thought this RPG had been forgetten about, glad it hasn't ^_^.
--------------------------
Riding through the trees of the highland realm of Dorthonion, Delovar felt one of those rare moments of peace that he sorely missed since the wars with the Dark Enemy, Morgoth began. His farther had told him that they should not question the ways of the world, or of the Valar and so should fight with there house and along side the Elves of Nargothrond whom their house was closely allied with. Delovar was no coward but he felt uneasy about the war and felt that if the Valar were true gods they would come to the aid of the children of Ilúvatar, the Elves and Men, as well as those of Aulë, those of Dwarven Kind. He signed quietly to himself as he continued on through the wood making his way toward the Kingdom of the great Thingol Greymantle, Menegroth, as he was instructed to do by his farther and King upon summons from Thingol himself. He shifted in his seat, and he began to hum a tune his mother had taught him long ago.

It wasn't long until he had left the reassuing cover of the trees and found himself in the black of night in open ground on the borders of Dorthonion, from his stand he could see much of his Houses woodland realm and even into Beleriand itself, he loock around the view briefly, marveling it's beauty before he drew himself away from the splendor and began to take a trail to the lower regions and into Beleriand and ultimately to the court of Thingol Greymantle, High King of the Sindar Elves of Middle-Earth and of Beleriand.[/B][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[Raiha]

[color=royalblue][i]Ranforne Drisvien of the Garden, otherwise known as Annúnwilyaien felt a stirring in the land. With practiced ease, she sank to her knees and tilted her head against the ground. The echoes and reverberations swiftly came to her, and she rotated her ear slowly, catching every sound. She straightened, her plain white tunic falling over her knees, and with her left hand she summoned forwards her staff. It pressed itself into her hand and she tilted it, resting against its smooth length.[/i]

"So...Thingol...would you have me find you and show my loyalty?"

[i]She smiled softly and raised her right hand up, calling a soft trill. Several small songbirds flocked to her palm, twittering and singing their replies. One hopped up her arm and rested next to her ear, clacking her beak against the simple looped earrings. She rested her talons on the serpent collar and chirrped.[/i]

"You called?"

"Yes......tell Thingol that his friend, the Istari Annúnwilyaien is coming to see him."

"Of course."

"May the grace of the Valar protect you. ....darkness is falling."

[i]With a practiced flick of her wrist she sent the songbirds up into the expansive blue. Then Ranforne turned her head and stepped out onto the path, grass springing around her footsteps, butterflies pressing themselves into the prints she had already made. In her throat she could feel a song of spring coming on, and she let it come with deep strong voice.[/i]

"In the cool eveningshade,
A tilting comes,
The earth changes before me,
And the grass is seeding.

Rising slowly,
The sun brings,
The warmth for life,
To begin again.[/color]

[Radaghast]

[size=1]Turgon glanced over his steed, spying his army of great spendor. His kindred are the hope of Beleriand; his brother, the hope of Middle Earth. Fingon, general of the Noldor, son of Fingolfin shall be the one to save the Noldor!
_____________________

His troop we passing south, through a forest of trees the Grey-elves would call Brethil. His men were hunting boars as they passed through the undergrowth of the forest, effortlesly weaving between vines and ferns.

Turgon looked towards the setting sun. He had hoped to be at the council of Thingol by the rise of Tilion. He again turned to look at his brothers. They were following with the blind faith and trust they had for their king.

And suddenly there was a great thundering of horns being sounded. These were not of Thingol kin, they were of orcs.[/size]

[Ben]

Grojek blew hard on the horn, a crudely fashioned instrument made of goat horn. Several other orcs throughout the ranks of his raiding party sounded as well. The noise would certainly get the attention of the elves. Sure enough, over the nearby ridge came a lone rider, a scout, as expected.

"Hold your fire!" Grojek commanded of his archers. "You can't hit him from this range anyways."

"We're not just going to let him get away, are we?" demanded one of his subordinates. "We could have killed the elf and the horse and had us some flesh to eat."

"There are going to be more, you idiot." snapped Grojek. "And if you [I]earn[/I] your kill, you can eat it."

The orcs about him grinned. Elf-flesh was good. Grojek hopped lightly off the back of his Warg. The animal snapped at him, and he bashed it in the snout. It whined and turned away. Grojek put his ear to the ground. Then he grinned. The elves were on their way. The trembling and the sound of their horses' hooves could be heard and felt.

"You all know the plan." he shouted. "Isen`tar!"

The dark half-elf sinuously slipped through the ranks of the foul orcs and appeared beside Grojek. "Is all in readiness?" Isen'tar asked.

"Yes, prepare your spell."

"Indeed." the elven sorcerer grinned viciously.

Just then, the elves appeared on the ridge, ranks upon ranks of them, all gleaming in their polished steel armor. "Get ready to charge!" Grojek bellowed, leaping into the crude saddle of his warg. The beast barked loudly and began to pace in front of the troops.

Grojek peered at the elves amassed in front of them. They would draw their bows soon. Sure enough, the elves, knowing of their superior range, pulled out their bows and nocked their arrows. Grojek tensed. The first arrow was fired, arching into the sky. "[B]Now![/B]"

The whole host of orcs charged with that command. The elves were not foolish enough to not protect themselves, however. Units of infantry quickly moved into place to cover the archers, their shields advanced and their swords ready. Grojek himself was at the head of the charge, and drove his Warg straight through them. The Warg bit and clawed at those around it, while Grojek hacked them to pieces.

An elf struck at his leg. Grojek deflected it with his shield, and then butted him in the head with it. He spun the Warg, knocking those behind him away with its furred flank, and the Warg finished off the off-guard elf. Grojek wheeled about. His orcs were all in a feral rage, killing all of the enemies in sight. He pulled out his horn and blew a single high-pitched note.

Out of the forests that the elven force had just recently exited, hundreds of orc archers dropped from the trees. They ran towards the elvish troops, drawing their bows to bombard them from behind. The horn was also a signal to the first orc force. Those that were not in a total bloodlust strapped their shields to their backs and literally bounded away on all fours.

The elves tried to follow the retreating orcs, but were being torn apart by the composite bows savaging their flanks. And to make matters worse, Isen`tar's fog spell had begun to shroud the battlefield in mist. Those of the orcs still alive vanished into it and away from the stunned elven force.

EDIT: I had put down "humans" and "Men" instead of elves. :p

[Isen`tar]

Isen`Tar grinned, his green tinted hands clasping his walking stick. He lifted it into the air began chanting as he walked into the emerald mist he had created. Orcs and Elves were mere meters away as Isen`Tar began to work. He swung his staff down into the fog and pulled it back out. The green smoke followed the staff into the air and stayed there. Isen did it again, then again, then a fourth time. When he was done, 4 large mounds of fog stood before him, almost taller than he was. He opened his mouth and with controlled breaths blew at the fog.

Without delay, the fog started being blown off in parts, staying in others. The four clouds of fog now had faces. And with further blowing, they became sentinent beings, except that they were still inanimate. Isen continued perfecting his work as danger drew closer.

From beneath the smokescreen on the field, a lone elven soldier, a footman, slinked ever closer to Isen`Tar. While the fallen half-elf continued his ritual, the human closed the range and pulled the sword from his sheath. Isen looked at the creatures which now stood before him. True works of art. Faces from the fog. He closed his eyes and concentrated. In doing so, he felt an unallied presence near him. The lone soldier. Isen`Tar smirked and spoke aloud words in the Black Speech of the Nazgul. He turned to see the soldier, sword drawn, posed to strike from a prone position.

"Siiitahhh. Menastad, nuleay."

He grinend as he completed his incantation and walked between two of the fog beasts.

"Kill them." he said in the tongue of elves, grinning at the soldier. He continued walking and disappeared into the now thickening fog.

Two of the four fog creatures approached the soldier. One picked him up by the legs, the other by the head. The footman swiped about with his sword, each time hacking off a piece of fog from the creatures which was replaced by the curatin beneath them from which they drew their very being.

The two creatures secured their grip and pulled hard in opposite direction, tearing the soldier into two pieces. They dropped his torso and legs as the four fog summons dissolved themselves into the fog cover and moved into the heat of battle, bashing the elves where they found them.

Back up on the hill, Isen was perfecting another one of his fog forms. A mighty chair this time. When it was finished, he leaned back and sat on the massivly compressed fog, lying his staff on it's back and stretching out his legs. He put his arm to his chin and stroked the it, grinning with malice as his creatures cracked the necks of elves in unison with some of the Orcs. Today was shaping up to be another good day. Another good day for Sauron. An even better day for Isen`Tar. He so enjoyed killing elves.

[Gavin]

[Color=#518CBD][Font=trebuchet ms]If there's any problems here feel free to inform me, it's great that this is now up.

[I]Crash, crash, the sounds of the hammer continually played in Garin's mind, he had been one of the first to suggest openly an attack against the forces of Morgoth and his servant Sauron. He knelt before his lord and master King Azgahal of Belegost along with many of his bravest and most loyal soldiers, the King stood from his throne with his golden and ruby colored robes and approached Garin. King Azgahal stopped roughly a foot from where Garin was kneeling and spoke in a tone of lordly authority.[/I]

[b]King Azgahal[/b] Garin, son of Gorin, son of Dorin, Great Warrior of Belegost and Proud and Loyal Servant to King Azgahal, you have openly spoken to me of an attack against the Dark Lord Morgoth and his servant the Black Wizard Sauron, is this true for all to hear ?

[I]Garin looked up at his King without fear or worry for he knew that his words were just and true[/I]

[b]Garin:[/b] I Garin, son of Gorin, son of Dorin have openly spoken to you of joining our brother races of Men and Elves in arms against this foe Morgoth and his servant Sauron, it is true.

[I]The King took forth his Axe and placed it on Garin shoulders and asked him to rise speaking in his native tongue.[/I]

[b]King Azgahal:[/b] Garin, son of Gorin, son of Dorin, it is by my Royal Order that you be now known as Lord Garin of Belegost, and that you lead our Dwarven forces against our enemies Morgoth and Sauron and his Orc and Goblin allies. Go forth and show our enemies the might of the hammer !!

[I]Garin looked up with tears forming in his eyes, and stood up before his King and bowed so deeply that his chestnut brown beard touched the floor. He rose again and spoke to his King in a proud and joyous voice.[/I]

[b]Garin:[/b] May my beard grow long as the running rivers and that I may go forth with the strength to accomplish the task my Lord has given unto me. I Lord Garin of Belegost accept my King's request and will lead the Dwarven Army from the mountains to do battle against the foes of our people. May my hammer fall swiftly upon my enemies' skulls and my axes hew many an enemy neck.

[I]Garin stood and turned to the soldiers who accompanied him and told them to spread the news among the army, [b]They would leave at Sun's rise tomorrow in the name of Azgahal King of Belegost and with their might they would crush Morgoth and his Allies[/b]. The Dwarves with him cheered with their axes in their hands and then bowed before their King and left. Garin watched as his father stood along with other advisors talking with each other as the King invited him to tables so that they may discuss their war plans.[/I][/color][/font]

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue][i]Ranforne quietly made her way through the sward, her feet barely touching the green grass as she moved. Her body dipped and swayed with the movement of the land, her arms moving slowly for balance. When she came to a slow running stream she bent down and cupped some of the water in her hands. It swirled until it came to rest in the hollow of her palm. Then she touched her lips to it, rolling the taste over her tongue thoughtfully. Then, she quickly spat it out again and wiped her mouth. Orc feet had passed through the water. It was tainted. From her rucksack she drew out a single silver chalice, and took a cupful. Then she broke off a leaf from a low hanging tree, kissed it, then dropped it in. The water fizzed and bubbled breifly then went still. She looked into her reflection for a few momments. Then the water shimmered and was replaced by a smiling face she knew very well.[/i]

"Why did you call me daughter?"

"Orc feet have passed through the instrument I use to speak with you."

"Are you going to see Thingol?"

"Of course."

"Good. Make haste, the orcs march swiftly."

"Yes. ....do you have any wisdom to impart?"

"None for now. It is not time. Wait patiently."

[i]Ranforne nodded and brought the cup to her lips. She drank deeply then placed it back in her sack. It was time to go.

With steady steps she continued heading west, the forest bowing before her touch, spreading outwards when she blessed it. The trees dipped and swayed as she did, spreading their own tendrils to touch her face as she walked. Her friends. She smiled and was pleased. While people saw her as the mystic of the forest, they saw her as the benevolence that was their dearest friend, Annúnwilyaien. And they whispered their names into her ear and beseeched her to pass their way once again.[/i]

"Someday friends. Today I make a path for Thingol's domains."

"Go with speed...... .....the orcs are coming."[/COLOR]

[CB Shin]

Ctar rushed in to the king's halls. Thingol sat upon his throne, with Mablung and Ctar's father Beleg at his sides. Ctar seldom spoke so even this was a surprise.

"Scouts have reported that an elite force of orcs have skirmished against our Gondolian allies. Turgon is with them. I believe that the assembly will not take place if we do not aid them immedietely. Our allies in Brethil are also being attacked."

Thingol replied, "You crave battle, do you not? Doriath is not in a position to openly proclaim war against Angband, as we are in progress of gathering our forces."

"But sire, if we do not help, our chances of a league will no longer exist, we must help them!"

Thingol was not used to such a tone. "My answer stands, we will not yet go to war." Ctar's father was silent the entire time.

Ctar stormed out of the hall, clearly irritation on his face. Thingol spoke one more time. "Ctar Cuthalion! Do not draw our enemies here!"

Ctar's plans had been ruined. He had planned to urge the Gondolin and Brethil forces to retreat to the Girdle of Melian, where they would have been protected. Now, he had to personally aid the troubled forces with his own troop of rangers, for Man and Noldor alike...

[Raiha]

[color=royalblue][i]The trees were right. Ranforne broke into a fast trot, hoping to clear the forest and spare the wildlife....

She could hear them coming, their grunts and roars echoing in her ears painfully. Ranforne felt a low scream build up in her gut and she unfastened her tunic as she ran. The white fabric swiftly gave way to a traveler's tunic and wrapped around her bare shoulders. With one hand she ripped off her necklace and wrapped the golden snake around her forearm. It hissed, then coiled deeply over her skin, forming one single sheet of metal. Her left hand gripped the staff resolutely asthe orcs came into view. There weren't too many of them, probably just a scouting troop.

They didn't see her, nor could they hear her bare feet leap over the forest floor that was swiftly becoming a barren field.

Then they saw her. Ranforne Drisven screamed, the pent up feelings and emotions bursting from her in one loud howling sound. Her voice carried over the flatland and the orcs covered their ears at the reverberating sound. The clear tones of the Silvern language clashed against their brains and the light coming from her staff was blinding. In a flash, literally, she was upon them, whirling her staff left and right, striking without discrimination or mercy.

Several fell before they realized she was only one wizard, and a diminuitive one at that. Their leader drew his rough blade and advanced on her. She watched him approach from the corner of her eye, then turned at the last possible momment, right arm held up. The sword ground into her gauntlet, sparks flying. As he strove to cleave her in two, Ranforne whipped her staff around and rammed it through his stomach, speaking softly at the same time.[/i]

"Gloriae Risea.....Un gar laia."

[i]A cool pulse of green and silver emenated from the tip of her staff and spread over the orcs like vines. They clawed at the light, which burned terribly, only to find it cling to them. She completed the phrase and the orcs were reduced to clumps of dark green ivy.[/i]

"...much better."[/color]

[Drix D'Zanth]

[color=green]Ctar?s hurried pace was cut by a hand bearing upon his shoulder, spinning him to veiw Melian. Melian stood before him glistoning as the Golden tree, her hair floating towards the wind. Her eyes shone like the bright moon, casting peace upon whom she laid them.

[i]"His heart is heavy, Ctar son of Beleg, his counsel will not be recognized in such treacherous days. He is beleagured by the news of constant Orc parties in brethil? bear not so much spite unto his words,"[/I] Her voice silenced the wind and birds around Ctar, and the chorus of melodies from her mere speech sent Son of Beleg into a trance, [I]"Your father is going on patrol soon, he and I will rally a force to assist Turgon."[/I]

[I]"B..But, M?lady,"[/I] Ctar inquired,[I] "the King."[/I] Melian smiled as a tulip to the fast approaching dawn, [I]"He said to bring no enemies ?here?. We shall drive them away."[/I]

Ctar bowed humbly as the elves were assembled. Melian wore no armor, nor would she require it. For at the head she shone like the chariot from which bore Arien, and her voice resounded in command, [I]"We meet them as allies to the free people, as bonds once commanded before the great Journey were cast aside."[/I]

With that, a small army of Sindar, glittering like emerald in the soft starlight, bore down to the northern reaches of Doriath and Brethil. As swift as beast, on foot, the elves would overtake Turgon by dawn. Beleg Cuthalion, and his son Ctar left earlier, however and would approach the scene in the twilight hours.

[I]"Delu ammen, echahuro len cur! (Danger before us, ready your bows)!"[/I] Beleg called upon his elves.
[/color]

[color=darkred]
From the battlefeild, the Noldor?s situation appeared grim. As Turgon?s army fell before the blackened steel, beaten in magic and numbers alike. Turgon stood next to his hearald, the banner of Gondolin shining ever azure, the two trees of Gondolin embroidered in shimmering gold and silver. As the sword Glamdring rose above, gleaming with unearthly white flame, Orcs cast down their weapons, and cowered in horror before the Foe of Morgoth. Yet the majesty of Turgon could not cast the forces of Morgoth so quickly aside.

The air suddenly filled with a cacaphony of pitch. From the sky, came the whistles of hundreds of arrows. The tail-feathers shone like falling stars, as salvo upon salvo was released before the first struck the ground. Orcs began to fall, hundreds, perhaps thousands as the shafts penetrated their strongest steel. Eviscerated by the blow, Grojek, suddenly found his main body of Orcs thinned.

It was at this moment he strode upon the guard of Turgon, perhaps if the armies of the Noldor fell, his hordes could regroup and face the bowmen. Two guards apprached Grojek with spears wrought from adamant, bearing a semblance to the trolls he had seen in the Black pits of Angaband. With a brutal cry Grojek hacked the head off one, then ducked under the stabbing spear, coming up with the tip of his schimatar. It took noticable force to dislodge the bloodied iron from the guard?s ribcage.

Turgon turned to Grojek, bearing Glamdring before him?.[/color]

(ooc: PM eachother if you want KO, Kill, or stalemate.. I?m going to let you two fight this one out. Isen?tar might not want to interfere.. Melian?s coming)

[Ben]

Grojek bellowed like the orc that he was, bashing his fist against his armored chest. Perhaps by this show of barbaric nature he could fool the Elf into thinking he was just another bestial orc of higher rank.

Whether or not the ruse worked or not, Grojek couldn't tell. But Turgon spurred his horse onwards towards Grojek. Grojek's Warg bucked beneath him and charged forward to meet the advance. Grojek stood up in his saddle as the two of them grew inevitably closer. At the last minute, as his Warg collided with Turgon's doomed horse, Grojek sprung from his crude saddle and tackled Turgon from his mount.

Grojek rolled off of Turgon, coming to his feet quickly and moving in for the kill. He slashed at Turgon's helmed head, but his blade was stopped by one of Turgon's guard. Grojek glissade up the guard's blade and struck him across the face, and then plunged the spikes of his shield into his chest.

Turgon had gotten to his feet in the time it took Grojek to deal with the bothersome guard. Grojek yanked his sword from the elf's torso and countered Turgon's overhand attack with his scimitar, wincing as the enchantments of Glamdring burned his dark soul.

Grojek tried to stab at Turgon with his jagged edged shield, but his blow was countered by a swift parry by Glamdring. Grojek despised the silver blade, riddled as it was with the blood of his orcs. Turgon advanced on Grojek, slashing at his head and shoulders with the enchanted blade, pale white fire in its wake. The blows themselves did not harm Grojek, he was too well versed with his shield and weapon to take any serious blows, but the fire did. With each stroke, he could feel his strength fleeing.

A arrow suddenly shot by Grojek's head. He instinctively turned at the sudden sound and movement. Turgon brought Glamdring down upon his head. CRACK! Grojek fell like a slaughtered deer. Turgon turned away, having defeated his foe. Nearby, one of his guards was engaged in a fight with several orcs. Turgon ran in, parrying the blades of several at once, and then ran his blade through the closest one. Quickly removing his blade, he struck down the others.

"My Lord Turgon! Watch out!" cried the guard. An orken arrow struck him down.

Turgon turned just in time to run Glamdring through an orc that had come up behind him. Then an orc arrow storm fell upon the elves from their flanks. Turgon took cover under the shield of one of his fallen elves. A bloodthirsty orc, however, had charged in despite the arrow storm and struck Turgon in the side, then falling to the ground with the arrows of his own kind embedded in his chest.

Turgon fell to his knees, the gash in his side bleeding profusely. He felt himself being picked up and carried away, just before he slipped into unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later that night.......
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Isen`Tar had covered the orcs retreat following the fall of Grojek. Fortunately, the elves had not pursued, their own leader sustaining a minor injury. They had made camp that night several miles from the battlefield, and were enjoying the meat they had taken from the field. The orcs disgusted Isen`Tar. Best return them to Lord Sauron and get them a new commander.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Back on the battlefield.....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"What a nasty little skirmish." remarked Finget the bandit. "There's all sorts of weapons and the like leftover."

"Yeah, but what I'd really like to get my hands on is that shiny sword the elf leader had." replied Burt, his partner in crime.

"Did you see it when that Orc captain knocked him from his horse?" exclaimed Finget. "That was incredible!"

"Yeh, that was pretty neat. I feel bad for the horse though."

"I know! Let's say we find that orc and see what he's got. He's likely to have plenty of plunder on him from his past battles!" said Finget.

"I dunno, Finget, them orcs are nasty little beasts. Who knows what he could have on him? Probably all sorts of fleas and diseases." replied Burt.

"Hey, over here!" called Finget. He was crouched over the still figure of Grojek. "I've found him!"

"No way any orc helmet could have taken a blow like the one he took." remarked Burt.

"Well then," said a quiet voice. "I'm fortunate that its Dwarven."

Grojek sprung up from the ground, bowling over the two thieves. He grabbed a nearby spear, snapped it in two, and impaled the two humans of them it in a few quick movements. That helped relieve some of the pain he was feeling. Grojek growled. His head felt like a mûmak had stepped on it, and his arm was sore from where he had been lying on his shield. Seeing the fires and hearing the barbaric hoots of his orcs, Grojek marched towards them.

[Isen`tar]

Isen`Tar rolled his eyes as the orcs growled snorted and grunted around him. With the fall of Grojek to the elves, Isen`Tar was left with the burden of his orcish horde.

"YOU! ELFMAN! WHAT DO WE DO NOW?"

Isen rolled his eyes and turned to face the orc.

"We make for Angband. We must return to Sauron and get a new commander for the horde."

"WHERE GROJEK?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't be here in your midst wasting my breath on a witless orc."

"WHAT WITLESS?"

Isen`Tar sighed and shook his head.

'If Grojek wern't dead I'd kill him." He increased his tone of voice and spoke out to the Orcs.

"HARKEN! WE MAKE FOR THE REALM OF THE DARK LORD!"

The Orcs store at him with a blank stare. He looked around in disbelief.

"ANGBAND! WE GO ANGBAND!" he finally shouted to the rabble. They raised their hands and cheered out. Isen jumped off the rock and walked ahead of the horde.

He summoned a fog bath and out of it formed a cart and horse. The horse he breathed life into, and then took the reins on the cart made of condenced moisture in the form of green fog. He stood up on the back of the cart and yelled to the Orcs.

"We leave now! To Angband!"

The Orcs cheered, Isen`Tar sat down on his cart, and the rabble was on their way to Angband.

--==={||}===--

The rabble came to a fork in the road. One way leading up through the mountains, another more lowland travel through a swamp. Though it was Isen's intention to take the swamp, he knew it would cause more trouble to him than it was worth. He turned and aimed for the mountain path and began.

It would be long and treacherous, but the path would bring them closer to Mordor faster than the swamps. Yet another reason for taking the pass. However, something just didn't feel right to Isen`Tar. He should have known better than to distrust his feelings, but to have the orcs infiltrate his homeland. So the caravan of one Half Elf and a legion of orcs made their way through the mountians to Angband and Sauron, looking for a new commander.

[Boba Fett]

[color=green]Dressed in a blood red robe, Jedgar Nieta walked by his former masters son?s side through a mountain pass. He?d been recalled from retirement for one last crusade, one final task. Not being abreast of the latest news, as he was no longer involved in the inner workings of the palace court, Jedgar only knew that the forces of evil were once again on the move. Orcs and their Warg steeds were making far more appearances than normal, but what really had shocked the tacticians was the amazing cohesion with which the forces of darkness now worked. It was a far cry from the random and poorly organized Orc mobs that had terrorized farmland in days past.

None of this was his concern however; he was simply to escort this ungrateful young ruler to the great king?s throne. There he would presumably accompany his lord to the great hall, where Nargothrond would join the other kingdoms of men in swearing their allegiance. He personally had never sworn fealty to any man, and didn?t intend to start now. Oaths got in the way of his personal morals much too often and that lead to difficult decisions. Instead, he simply followed his conscience. Jedgar did what he thought was right, and did it when he thought it most appropriate.

A flash of movement caught his eye, instantly sending Jedgar into a combat stance. His keen eyes scanned the rock on either side of the mountain pass. This was a perfect place for an ambush.

[B]Jedgar[/B]: ?My Lord, we must leave the trail and find a more defensible position now.?

[B]King[/B]: ?You are old Jedgar, you worry too much. There is not much time until nightfall. We must make good time if we are to reach the Great King?s hall in time for the nightly feast!?

[B]Jedgar[/B]: ?My Lord, this is not a wise decisi-?

[B]King[/B]: ?[I]Silence[/I]!, I make the decisions around here, not my father?s old advisor. Be silent old man; I was mistaken to bring you along.?

Jedgar scowled at the King, but said nothing. Several of the more experienced soldiers tensed, readying their weapons. They knew better than to trust their arrogant lord?s notoriously bad judgment.

In a single instant, the pass went from peaceful to complete chaos. A dozen Orcs jumped out from behind rocks on either side of the trail, firing with composite bows. A lone Orc appeared at the other end of the narrow pass, riding an unusually large Warg. He raised a rusty and pitted blade, then screamed in a blood curdling tone. His Warg charged ahead, straight at the procession of men who were arranged in single file.

Jedgar leaped from the trail and skillfully swung his pike with unnatural speed, killing all three Orcs within his range. On the trail, the Warg had bowled over the entire procession and was sinking its teeth into the King. Jedgar scowled. That man deserved to die, for the men he?d put in danger today.

The fighting went on for several minutes. Soldiers fell left and right, along with the occasional Orc. It was a very one-sided affair; the men were at a large disadvantage. They?d been surprised, they?d had bad leadership and half of the procession had been made up of portly aristocrats who couldn?t wield a sword if their lives depended on it. Turns out that they?d had the chance to try and all had failed miserably.

Jedgar stood back to back with the last remaining soldier, fighting off seven Orcs. Jedgar was severely restricted in his movements, as he now had to protect the man behind him. Unfortunately, he was soon relieved of that burden. Three Orcs charged at the poor soldier, who panicked and foolishly parried the first blade that came his way. The other two cut him to ribbons.

The Pikeman took advantage of the situation to whip around and knock the two closest Orcs backwards into the third by pushing his horizontal pike straight out from his chest. He then quickly finished them off, while ducking several poorly aimed blows from another foolhardy Orc.

Turning back to the Orc who had swung at him, Jedgar slashed viciously with his pike?s blade. The Orc was disemboweled, and fell to the ground to die slowly. The other three were more cautious. They nervously circled Jedgar, occasionally feinting with their blades. Sweating, tired and enraged, Jedgar moved with blinding speed. He lunged at one, slicing the creature diagonally from left shoulder to right foot. Then he ducked, as the other two who had charged him from opposing sides impaled each other on their outstretched blades. Jedgar rolled out of the way, onto the path, and was nearly beheaded by the Warg.

Jedgar stood, and drove his pike deep into the Wargs head. Not pausing to retrieve his weapon, he kicked out at the rider. The Orc captain?s sword flew from his hand as Jedgar continued to attack him. The Captain roared in anger, and lashed out with a fist that knocked Jedgar backwards several feet and into a boulder.

He was getting too old for this.

The Orc captain advanced on the older man, slumped against the boulder, roaring in triumph. He raised his fist above the human?s head, ready to deal a skull-crushing blow, and brought it down.

Jedgar?s arm was a blur of motion as it snatched up the Orc captain?s discarded blade and held it high. The Orc?s hand was pierced by the blade, which continued up into the captain?s head. There it rested, and the Orc collapsed.

The red robed man rose slowly, very tired from the fight. He walked painfully over to the fallen Warg and wrenched his pike from its head. Using it as a staff, he hobbled down the path, feeling much older than he did when he began this journey?[/color]

[Raiha]

[color=royalblue][i]She left the killing field that was now the field of ivy.....and made her way slowly to the mountains dividing the country. She steadied her pace and wrapped herself up in her cloak. Darkness, but no orcs. Her staff was calmed, the wind was good, and the stars were bright.

Ranforne turned her head and watched the path spread out in front of her. She could barley make out someone moving along the trail, but she didn't call out like she would've several years ago. Instead she hummed to herself and approached slowly. Jedgar turned his head and watched the shape move along the path. It was small, slender, obviously not an orc.

She smiled and quickened her pace. The wind changed and she inhaled slowly. Blood. Lots of it. The figure was a man in a red robe, carrying a pike....obviously a warrior. She noted the lumps behind him and recognised the corpses of both orcs and humans. Jedgar. That was his name. He was watching her, simply observing. She straightened, robes swishing over her body, then smiled at him. She dipped her head and saluted with her staff, quaintly oldfashioned.[/i]

"Greetings Jedgar."

[i]He eyed her carefully. The fact that she knew his name was unnerving. The fact that she was immaculatly dressed in white robes and was female to boot was also unnerving. Nevertheless, he bowed and saluted her back.[/i]

"Greetings. Who might you be?"

"....some have called me sorceress, others witch, but the informed know my name to be Ranforne Drisven of the Garden."[/color]

[Drix D'Zanth]

OOC: Sorry bout the weekend leave, but I?m back on this. I encourage all of you to expecting update from me almost every day if possible (if other people don?t mind posting)

Isen?tar, please check your spelling and grammar before posting. Also recall 2 things, Orcs aren?t necessarily stupid, and Mordor has yet to exist. This is thousands of years before that. Sauron is significantly less powerful in this age, and enthralled by Melkor. The main (and only for now) evil realm is Angaband.

------------
[color=blue]

Upon Jedgar and Ranforne?s interlude, Beleg Cuthalion appeared before them, his hands mottled in dark patches of Orc blood.

?I heard the blast of orc-horn, I thought you would require aid,? the Sinda explained, concern glittering in his grey eyes. The entourage of Nagrothrond?s men who lived upon Amon Echrath followed him. The guards had fallen dead, only Jedgar remained and the frail King Nolidwaith.

?We drove them away naught by midnight, they carried with their numbers a foul bode,? Jedgar said, his wisdom etching wrinkles near is mouth.

?Very well then, we must reach Menengroth by day, follow me.? Beleg issued towards the deepening wood with Ranforne beside him, appearing as a wind between the trees.

--------------------[/color]
[color=darkgreen]
The realm of Menengroth stood as but a modest peak in the middle of Doriath. The small crest of the hill stood like an earthen sunrise over the now golden wood. The soft music of a river, Esgalduin, washed around the entrance and south through the woods. Before whomever decided to enter Menengroth would be a bridge, of adamant white, and a doorway. The single doorway was carved from mithril and silver, cast with the seal of Thingol Greymantle and glittering in daytime and night..

Following the guides, weary travelers would be led down halls full of music, dancing, and feast. Elves of all kind sought the bounty of their lands and enjoyed this gathering with great praise. The greatest of halls held Elu-Thingol who sat distraught on his throne. His face shone fair like the silver tree Laurelin. And light sparkled from his skin and hair like silver dew. His presence was forever reveared by those who took part in the festivities. Four guards stood around their King, forbidding conversation until he would announce the counsel.

Only a matter of time would pass before Melian would return with her damaged allies. Beleg would, evidently, not remain in the northern reaches. The news of the battle and the horrendous army of Angaband wearied the ancient lord.
[/color]

[CB Shin]

C'tar had been angry with his father's decision of falling back and letting the dark elf go, so he took the remainder of his rangers and tracked them. It had looked like the remainding orc army would travel through the Pass of Aglon. In order to do so, they had to pass the forest of Nan Elmoth. C'tar decided that this is where he had to strike. Since they were familiar with the area, C'tar and his rangers took a direct route to Nan Elmoth and awaited patiently for the prey.

C'tar crouched atop the trunk of a great tree, bow drawn with an arrow nocked. The orcs would be arriving soon he knew... Everyone else was in position and waiting for the first step near the forest. They came on heavily, boots clanging rushing towards the forest. C'tar saw an opening at the dark elf leader and took his best shot. With that came a sudden flurry of arrows, piercing the tough armor of the orcs. The arrow he had shot at the Dark Elf was deflected...by fog. He immedietely realized his error and concentrated instead on the orcs.

The orcs were now aware of where the rangers had lay. They started chopping down random trees with their axes and broad swords, all the while the rangers were shooting. The orcs' numbers were thinning and fast. Orcs were not stupid, but they needed proper guidance and the dark elf had not done anything, simply watched behind his wall of fog. C'tar noticed something about the fog... It was moving towards them! He immedietely yelled "Fall Back!" and the rangers stealthily withdrew. His judgement had been correct, for the fog had rotted all the life it had touched.

It wasn't over, the Dark Elf was buying time. The small remainder of orcs flew hastily away from the forest and back around. With one last shot, he felled another orc and then ordered to pursue them. The sorceror was running out of tricks. Now though, they were out in the open, but it hardly mattered, for the rangers had still shot down all orcs within range at will. At last the final orc had fell. The sorceror was alone, vulnerable or so it seemed.

"An Cu (Longbows), Fire!"

A volley of arrows seemed to fire straight and true, but when they neared the elf, the same wall of mist and fog appeared again. The arrows were useless... C'tar drew his sword and prepared to rush the Lieutenant of Sauron. The others charged as well. Fog figures went up as each step we took got closer to him. Now rangers were fighting mist warriors as C'tar headed for the leader. C'tar swung his sword back, prepared for the kill...

[Ben]

The pounding of a horse's hooves caused C'tar to give pause to his attack. A grey stallion, bewlidered and afraid, was charging through the forest straight towards him. C'tar leapt back, and was knocked to the ground by the orc riding the horse. It was Grojek.

"Get on!" he barked at Isen`Tar.

Isen`tar quickly leapt onto the horse in front of Grojek. With Grojek's scent further away from it, and an elven rider at the reins, the horse calmed itself. Grojek sat backwards in the saddle, using it to prop his shielf up in front of him. C`tar's elves were not faring well against the creatures of mist. Their blades and arrows passed right through them, causing no effect, and yet the fog-creatures, though slow, could strike with great force.

C`tar leapt to his feet and attacked the pair of riders. Grojek parried the blade, and then slapped the rump of the horse with the flat of his blade. C`tar put aside his sword and drew his bow. Grojek had already pulled out a small orken bow, however, and very nearly shot C`tar's fingers off.

As Grojek and Isen`tar galloped away, the fog-beasts dissipated, leaving the elves among windrows of dead orcs.

[Boba Fett]

[color=green]Jedgar walked into the woods after Beleg, his pain alleviated by being in the mere presence of his traveling companions.

Using his bloody pike as a staff, Jedgar walked slowly and steadily after the others along the winding dirt path through the overgrown forest. The canopy overhead was heavy, letting in barely enough light to see by. It was lucky there seemed to be no other inhabitants of this wood. As he gazed at the trees around him, curiosity overtaking his idle mind, he wondered if there were Ents in this particular forest. He?d heard of Ents before, but not being one to believe something unless he saw it with his own eyes, wasn?t sure if they actually existed. Supposedly they inhabited all but the most dangerous and newest forests.

Unfortunately, a tree root on the trail broke his train of thought. Jedgar tripped, and would have fallen in not for his pike. A scowl crossed his face, before he deftly chopped the root off of the tree and batted it into the underbrush with the flat of his blade.

His pike was Jedgar?s only faithful companion throughout his long life. Not his real parents, his adoptive grandparents or the noble family he?d served for generations had ever been completely loyal to him. In time, each had let him go. His pike never had. Forged in the fires of a volcano, it was said to be indestructible. Its blade was razor sharp and magically never dulled. The pommel at the other end was a perfectly balanced counterweight for the blade, allowing the wielder of the weapon to balance it on one finger. His weapon was his life; without it he was nothing. This tool was the one object he owned that was irreplaceable.

Unconsciously gripping his weapon slightly tighter than normal, Jedgar continued to follow his newfound traveling companions through the forest.

Hours passed, how many he couldn?t be sure. Wiping beads of sweat from his brow, he raised his head. In the distance, light could be seen. Menengroth was not far now?[/color]

[CB Shin]

C'tar and half of the surviving rangers began collecting the ears of the dead orcs they had slain to show success. Still, C'tar had been disappointed that he could not eliminate the enemy leader. His final shot was straight and true, but the sorceror had deflected the arrow with his dark magic. As the last ear had been collected, they started heading back towards Menegroth. The success had been a small one, for Morgoth had plenty of orcs to spare, but not enough generals. C'tar would not easily forget the orc who had saved the dark elf...

C'tar marched back to his quarters where he would think about the oncoming battles. Ever since the Battle of Sudden Flame where Fingolfin had been slain by Morgoth, orcs and other fell beasts roamed the lands closer to Doriath than ever before. It would only be a matter of time before Morgoth would devise a plan to penetrate the Girdle of Melian that had protected them for so many years. He went to his drawer and picked out some maps and studied them for some time. To the east of Doriath was the River Celon, and right south of that was the forest of Nan Elmoth where the battle he had just been in occured. There were two threats currently posed to Doriath. There would be nothing blocking the orcs from settling in Nan Elmoth, but his main concern was to the north where Dorthonion lay. There, the orcs were plentiful and the mountain range of Ered Gorgoroth protected them. He put away his maps and pondered the possibilities. He had an uneasy awakening the next day...

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue]God I feel like a douche.
~~~~~~~~~~
[i]Ranforne's eyes narrowed slightly. She could make out nothing, not even low clumps of slow moving animals. All she could see was the endless wilderness stretching before her, through the trees. Beleg turned ever so slightly without breaking his stride.[/i]

"Are you well M'lady?"

"Oh fine...."

"Can you see anything?"

"Nothing that this plane will tell me. To see more I would have to scry on the ethric."

[i]If he understood, he didn't let on, and Ranforne simply looked forward. Her shoulders squared and she leaned on her staff, steadying her movement. The gauntlet had become the snake collar again, and she had no reason to take it back. Beleg didn't press her for details, but instead motions to the others to stick closer together.

The Garden Wizard inhaled deeply and then exhaled once more. Her breath was visible in the cooling air, and she saw the shadows play into the steam from her mouth.[/i]

"We'd best keep moving."

"We have a rear guard posted."

"Good. I'll sing."

[i]Before he could stop her, she had opened her mouth and started a low soft hum that quickly trailed off into a long sliding song of various notes and phrases. Its message was in another tongue, but it was very clear.[/i]

"Warriors are coming, creatures of darkness and despaire take heed, great light is contained within, we are coming through. Stand down, and be still."[/COLOR]

[CB Shin]

C'tar woke with a start as the warning horn blew. The sun had not risen yet, but dawn was coming soon. He quickly got dressed in his wargear and went outside to observe. The sentry yelled out,

"Orcs are at hand! They are near the forest of Neldoreth!"

C'tar became excited for that was the location of his battle. He grabbed his bow, Dae'Cu and rushed to join the other soldiers. His father was one of the people who was headed to Menegroth. C'tar hastened his speed as they came upon the River Esgalduin, where the orcs were on the opposite side. The bridge was in view now as Elves battled Orcs upon it. The first wave of arrows came upon the back ranks of the orcs as a countless number died. Behind the elves, a woman was singing, with each note faltering the Orcs. The look of fear was upon them. We were going to win. Suddenly, a whip of flame shot from the trees, killing several orcs and elves nearby as it lashed out. A balrog was with them!

They had come down Dorthonion to plague Neldoreth. Many who looked upon the balrog wavered and were terrified and suddenly, the odds had become against them. Now the female wizard leaped into the battle, weapons swinging, each strike a killing blow, single-handedly inspiring morale throughout all the fighters. Now, the full body of both the Orc and Sindar warriors came from both sides of the forests. The bridge was covered with bodies, so much so that C'tar could have walked on it without touching the ground. He quickly ran to the shore line as a body of orc archers shot at him. He dodged nimbly and quickly shot back. A new volley came from the forests behind as his rangers join the fight, firing storm after storm of arrows. The balrog had continued lashing with his whip as the Sindarin were being pushed back by countless orcs. His father had now joined him in the display of archery, wielding Belthronding, his bow of yew wood. Beleg yelled out orders.

"Archers, aim towards the side of the bridge!"

A flash and a massive storm of arrows hit the left flank of orcs on the bridge, dwindling their numbers. Both C'tar and his father fired at the balrog supporting the orc lines. C'tar's arrow hit the daemon in the heart, while his fathers hit him in the forehead. The balrog's toughness showed when he pulled out both arrows, head and all. At least this kept the Balrog out of the fighting C'tar thought as he and his father continued firing. Now the defenders stood their ground and the battle came to a bloody halt as niether line advanced. Slowly, with the help of the Sindarin rangers, the Sindarin formed a thick line on the right flank where as the rangers hit the left, slowly advancing the Sindarin troops. C'tar saw the orcs take back empty ground on the bridge, surrounding the wizard Ranforne. C'tar dropped his bow, drew his sword "Neldoreth's Defense" and leapt on the bridge from an angle, stunning the nearby orcs. This allowed Ranforne to recover, as the two fought back to back. The orcs were dwindling from Ranforne's accurate hits and C'tar's fast strikes. Now, the Sindarin line had advanced as they caught up to the two. As C'tar looked foward, he saw his father shot another arrow straight into the Balrog's forehead in the place where he shot before. This time, the arrow penetrated it's armor-like skin and the Balrog fell with a large thump. As if the Vala themselves had declared it, the sun had just begun to rise as the orcs were being routed. With the battle won, the visiters were accompanied with the Sindar as they hastily drew their way to Menegroth...

[Raiha]

[color=royalblue]I suppose now would be the time where we pause and reflect that....of Balrogs slain... .........in all the LOTR series, only two ever defeated by ANYONE.....had been pushed/thrown/slung from the peak of a very high mountain. That and Glorfindel, or whoever the elf was, just got lucky.

Other balrogs were pushed back into the darkness. And if you will please remember, that orcs will flee at the presence of an overpowering evil. Such as a balrog.

So, the moral of the story is: An arrow in the forehead, no matter how often its struck, will not necessarily kill it. That and an ancient Istari sorceress is not about to be trapped by orcs.[/color]

[Drix D'Zanth]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Raiha [/i]
[B][color=royalblue]I suppose now would be the time where we pause and reflect that....of Balrogs slain... .........in all the LOTR series, only two ever defeated by ANYONE.....had been pushed/thrown/slung from the peak of a very high mountain. That and Glorfindel, or whoever the elf was, just got lucky.

Other balrogs were pushed back into the darkness. And if you will please remember, that orcs will flee at the presence of an overpowering evil. Such as a balrog.

So, the moral of the story is: An arrow in the forehead, no matter how often its struck, will not necessarily kill it. That and an ancient Istari sorceress is not about to be trapped by orcs.[/color] [/B][/QUOTE]

OOC: Incorrect. Balrogs, like other maiar could be cast down to almost destruction. Observe the point that tolkien has all maiar as physical incarnations of their own spirit. Just like istari, the body could be destroyed and the spirit remain (Gandy and Sauron, etc). It is possible that a spirit could be destroyed enough to the point that they would not be able to replenish their "Fea" as Tolkien described in HOME. Balrogs were only killed in one on one combat by 2 elves to be recorded, except for the case of Feanor and others. Once again, maiar grow in power with time. The balrog gandalf fought was probably one of the most powerful since Gothmog, considering the time he dwelled unmmatched in Moria. Balrogs of the first age could be killed through conventional combat. Now, a single arrow may not kill it, but it could serve as the final blow.

-Balrogs and orcs did fight side by side.. however balrogs did seem to come out in company, they didn't tend to spread out.

-Raiha don't overestimate the power of your Istari. Technically you wouldn't be an actual istari, for that means wizard of the order, from which there were 5. I don't mind that, but realize even though your power may rival that of many great elves, you aren't nearly invincible. Istari excelled on being Subtle. For instance, Gandalf had immense power, perhaps even enough to destroy the Nazgul (if at least for a while), yet he curbed the power and instead served his purpose as a figure of guidance and wistdom for the ringbearers and men.

-Rada and Ben showed an excellent example of vinciblity, try to recall that your character is never beyond destruction or harm...

-Things are different in the 1st age, that I hoped many of you would recognize: Balrogs and dragons are NUMEROUS (dragon's not so much yet, as only Glaurung has shown himself once), and weaker. Elves are the kings of men, and far more numerous. The older men are easily as powerful in battle/ more powerful in battle as the elves at this time (In the third age, most elves are incredible masters of battle, a good portion surviving from even the first age.) I reccomend anyone playing this glance at the Silmarillion.


Note: I'll be adding In character when I get out of classes.

[Gavin]

[size=1]Sorry I haven's posted here in a while but I'll try and make it more often. I really have to get a hold of a copy of this book.

[I]Lord Garin of Belegost stood clad in his finest mithril before one of the mightiest Dwarven armies ever beheld on the face of Beleriand, 6,000 Dwarves ready for war would be the equivalent of nearly double that in terms of the race of Men. Their mattocks and axes cried out for the blood of Goblin and Orc alike and it made no difference as to how many were slew as it wouldn't be enough until the last of the foul creatures lay dead before their feet. Garin held his hammer Fenrisbane high above his head and let forth a mighty roar before speaking.[/I]

[b]Garin:[/b] My brothers, our lord Azgahal has commanded us to leave these mountains and to go and show our foe Morgoth the might of the Dwarven hammer. Our enemy has allied himself with the Goblins and the Orcs so therefore we shall strip him of his allies before we rend him asunder. We shall hunt him from the highest peaks and the lowest roots of the mountains, we shall hunt him across the plains of Beleriand.... AND WE WILL NEVER GIVE IN !!!!

[I]A deafening cheer went up as the Dwarves began to march from Belegost the city under the Blue Mountains. Their troops would have defied even the mightiest of enemies without fear, Balrog, Dragon or even Morgoth himself, their hearts were hot as the white coals of the forge. Garin rode upon on an armoured pony with two of his commanders Bragir and Baldir, they spoke about enemy movements and where exactly the army should head first. Garin knew that the brothers had served King Azgahal nearly as long as he'd been alive and their cunning in battle was legendary. Their journey would be long, their forces would have to march across the plains of East Beleriand and come to the aid of their Elven brethren in the hidden city of Gondolin.

After several hours Garin heard a mighty horn blow as they came close to the crossing at the river Celion/Gelion (Sorry Drix, I can't make out the name on the map), he knew that it's crude sound was that of an Orc Horn and ordered two scouts to ride ahead. Garin rode along with his two old commanders Bragir and Baldir to a small hilltop that would overlook the next plain, he drew back in a breath before glancing forwards... and he then let out a sign of relief. The force was that of Goblins rather than Uruks or Orcs and that would make the battle simpler by far, by the size of the troops they appeared to have less than a thousand and would fall easily before his army's mattocks.

The two scouts reported back and told Garin that they had seen no other troops and it appeared that the Goblin force was on their own, possibly marching to link up with another army of Morgoth. Drawing Fenrisbane from behind his back he ordered the troops forward, he pulled a dwarven horn from his side and blew hard sounding the attack. There was less than a quarter of a mile between the Goblins and Dwarves, the Dwarves had the advantage of surprise and there was nowhere for the Goblins to run. Turning in horror at the sound of the Garin's horn the Goblin Commander let out a shriek as he saw the force of Dwarves coming down upon them. The Goblin's knew that they were out matched but they would fight the Dwarven because they hated them so....[/I]

[b]Garin:[/b] [I]Baruk Khazad! Khazad ai-menu![/I] Axes of the Dwarves! The Dwarves are upon you![/size]