The Lord of the Rings RP [IC]

by **Valentir** » Sat May 31, 2014 3:51 pm

Along the Bruinen, Eriador
Boredom had filled the hearts of Sylvanas and her rangers so they left the Gates of Rivendell, marching alongside the Bruinen, in the direction of Fennas Drunin until they took a turn at the crossing near Rivendell and turned into Rhudaur. Syl was tired of waiting for Lord Elrond, and she wanted some adventure. The part began to journey North, in the direction of the Trollshaws and Angmar. Sylvanas had hoped to find something exciting, and at the very least check up on the rangers stationed their. And so the small party of elves and one man headed into the wild towards Cameth Brin, the old capital of Rhudaur.

by **New Educandi** » Sat May 31, 2014 4:17 pm

The Valar-know-where, some where in the Shire
Boippi was seething with rage-- walking across the shire, to blasted Rivendel! Interrupted in his events, he got the news of Bree being destroyed. Although, not having time to grieve for his fellow Hobbits, he was forced ("Damn that Mr. Sackvill!") to go to Rivendel, as Bree provided nearly half his income. So, this is how he found himself, waking alone, as the sun set, with a bundle full of enough food for a common man, but only half the Hobbits diet.

"Farmer Maggot, I swear, I was just taking a short cut through your farm!" Boippi shouted over his shoulder, running from the Hobbit farmer, scythe in hand.
"I didn't take anything!", he screamed, all the while stuffing a carrot into his bundle. he dove out of the way of a few corn stalks, trying the brush the leaves out of his small mustache. he dove off a small ledge, landing on a small road.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Sat May 31, 2014 4:33 pm

South Wilderland

With the eastern crags of the Emyn Muil secured and defended by the forces of the Dark Lord, more forces rode and marched north. Gangs of slaves and Snaga brought along labored on a highway, raised and paved with rough black basalt, stretching north towards Dol Guldur. True power required logistics, and the Great Eye was no fool.

by **Prusslandia** » Sat May 31, 2014 4:39 pm

Cirith Ungol

Calemvir scuttled through the cavern, wary of a fight. Though his Mother was here, she was renowned to eat anything that entered her abode. Tapping a specific rhythm upon the web, he hissed out " Mother, it is I, Calemvir. I wish to speak with you. " his new army was near the entrance of the tunnels, awaiting their Masters command.

by **Sil Arion** » Sat May 31, 2014 5:03 pm

Dale

"Consider it done, My Lord." Brand, King of Dale, watched the last of his kin leave the Councils Chamber and took a brief moment to breathe and gaze out beyond the far windows. Already the sun set far to the west, bathing the darkened azure sky in lustrous shades of red and gold. Good tidings, perhaps. But not now. Dark wings, dark words. Just hours before, a relay of Rangers and their friendly thrushes brought notice from the east and the south.

The Powers of Darkness were moving.

And not with slowness either. The Mouth of Sauron had been spotted and spied upon by three separate parties of his Rangers in Dorwinion. He visited on of the smaller villages and left with three swords of mysterious power in his possession. It did not bode well, but their appearance tugged at his memory. The presence of the new company of strange orc-men at Sauron's beck and call also seemed familiar; perhaps another memory from the countless hours spent reading ancient scrolls and tomes of history in his youth. He would need to research that on the morrow with Loremaster Halvar and his apprentices. Not knowing your enemy's force bode well not.

News of Dain's march on the Withering Heath was startling. That his greatest friend and ally would not consult or consider his aid before beginning such a quest did not speak well of the times. Was Dain under great duress to so forget their deep friendship, muddled so in his duties as King Under the Mountain? Already he'd sent out a company of Rangers to track his friend and assist him in his endeavor. They'd catch him in perhaps three days, as the trail was not hidden to his men, well experienced from many years of patrolling Rhovanion and fighting the Goblin tribes and Men of Rhun.

Most fortunately, time favored them for the moment. No black force yet moved against Dale or Erebor as Mordor was against Gondor, as spoken by the song-birds of the south in conversation with the north thrushes. But he would not take chances. He would not fail his kith and kith, or his ancestors. His Council too had supported his decision with much enthusiasm, and so his engineers and stonemasons began strengthening the city's defenses with the held of their Dwarf-friends; a further eight tower-bastions along the walls to accompany their few-score brethren. Armies would crash like frothy waves against a great cliff, and the Black Arrows fell like a dark rain amongst their massed ranks, and the dark hosts would have to climb corpse-mountains of their fallen comrades to ascend the walls if even they dared. It would be some time before completion, perhaps a fortnight in lateness, but Dale would endure nigh any onslaught of Evil if her defenders faltered in the far off battlefields of the future. Perhaps not that far off though...

The Council had actually anticipated his wishes - as they oft did, his beloved and thoughtful kith and kin - and called the Companions of the Celduin to active duty strength, thirteen thousand strong, and the thousand noble knights of the elite Companion Cavalry. Already they marshaled and drilled on the short plain at the valley's beginning a league before the outer walls, glittering even still in their gold-glazed armor of fine steel, crimson cloaks billowing in the high winds of eventide. It was then the Bells rang merrily; suppertime, and he began walking towards the Dining Hall of the Citadel. But he still reviewed the comings of this day. While it was law to stock one-fifth of all food supplies in years of peace, he and his Council too in preparation for war had increased this to two-fifths; Dale now was more prosperous and powerful than ever before, even under his father's rule, Bain the Bold, and could thus manage this without trouble. Rhun would surely come when bidded by the Dark Lord, and a siege was likely with their disparity in numbers.

But they would be ready. And with prayers to the Valar on their lips and all friends and family at their side, they would be endure all assault and ascend victorious for all they held dear.

For Dale. For the Free Folk. And for all Middle-Earth.

by **Liecthenbourg** » Sat May 31, 2014 5:04 pm

The Plains of Gorgoroth
The Mouth of Sauron smiled widely - for the Gongs had appreciated the integration upon which they were well received by their Orc-Kin. Tales were exchanged on how the "Free Peoples" had forsaken the Gong, and many-an Orc and Uruk listened attentively as the Gongs themselves had their voice filled with hatred and malice as they spoke the true words of the War of the Last Alliance.
The Mouth however, despite wanting to rest, did not. He reared his horse and kicked its sides, causing Shakhgul to gallop greatly out of the Plains and out of the Black Gate. Indeed, the Mouth did have an army to command.
Durnazag too, told tales of how the Gongs had manufactured a great composite bow, but it was lost upon a skirmish in the forests of Mirkwood. The Orcs then had an idea, and told Durnazag to retrieve this bow, for it would surely lift the spirits of the Gongs even further.
He could only agree as he mounted a Warg and left for the forests of Mirkwood.

by **Yalos** » Sat May 31, 2014 5:19 pm

"The enemy grows bolder, oh lord." A snubby little Orc armorer srood before the mighty Khamul, reposing after his restless journey to the cellars below.

"They move forces nearer, approaching our fortress. The Woodland Realm insolently moves forces North to establish a path towards our impenetrable stronghold. The spiders and our little goblins in the woods swear they hear chatterings and whisperings. War is to come upon us, oh great one."

Khamul merely nodded, tapping his long, wrinkled fingers upon his throne of marble. He knew this all of course, and it was as Sauron's messenger had foretold. The michevious Elves plotted against the forces of Amon Lanc.

"Gibby," Khamuk whispered after a moment's silence.

"Milord," the Goblin responded.

"You tell me that Sauron's messenger instructed us to raise our fortress higher?"

"Yes, milord."

Khamul stared through the slits in his armored helm, his hood lay down as he pondered his situation. Gibby stood, expectantky, ready to carry out master's orders.

"I want this fortress to be transformed into the obsidian stone upon which the Elves cast themselves in futility. We shall not ride forth to meet the enemy; let them come. And let them tremble at the might of our unbreakable walls of my lord's dark sorcery."

"Of course. It shall be-"

"Wait. I change my mind, we shall strike the Woodland people a blow to never be forgotten. Instruct the soldiers to begin their constructions. I shall lead a force of 4,000 out to challenge the Woodland realm for control of the road. Let us test these elves, and feel their resolve."

Gibby grinned.

"Shall I fetch the Warg riders?"

"Yes."

As Khamul's expiditionary forces approached the dense forest of Mirkwood, a chilling, somewhat foreboding feeling of perpetual doom loomed over the massive army; it was no secret that elves were master forest fighters.

However, Khamul reasoned that he had Orcs aplenty to spare, and elves could do little against his spiders. Or for that matter, a well lit fire. No, Khamul insisted that the first Orcish regiments plunge headfirst into the woods under thecover of Khamul's flying beast and the spiders navigating the high limbs. Their objective was to meet the hasily constructed Elvish positions as soon as possible.

With axe, sword, armor and torch, the Orcs trudged through the undergrowth, snarling and daring the elves to try something. With so vast a host of Orcs, the Elves would launch an attack to their own demise. Rank and file of Orcs armed with shorter bladed weapons hacked through branches, and archers trained their sights upon shadows in the distance.

Khamul's mount kept her eyes trained on the ground; the moment she saw an elf, she knew to screech.

by **The corporate states of Astavar** » Sat May 31, 2014 5:20 pm

Half a day walk from the borders of Rhûn
Gimli, Thorin III Stonehelm, Nori, Dori and Dwalin had almost arrived at their destination, Rhûn it was. It was said that there where some great Kingdoms amongst Men and Dwarves in these lands, unmatched to anything they had seen. Old stories told that there was a complete new world in the east, a world in wich nothing seemed familliar but yet everything you saw would have been seen before... The five where not going to hide, the men of Rhûn never had any trouble with Dwarves, and so they did not expect any trouble this time. All five rode on ponies, who had carried them all the way from The Iron Hills. Dwalin carried all the letters with him, they hoped to achieve their goals in these lands, as none of the five really felt comfortable in these empty lands..
As the sun stood at its highest point some riders where spotted on the horizon. "There they are" Thorin said. Thorin had heard about the border patrols in these lands, corruptable men he called them.
The dwarves walked on as the horsemen got closer...

as the Party was half a day's travel into the lands of Rhun they came upon a patrol of Rhun infantry men both parties watched each other carefully but after a short stare the Rhunic patrol approached the tensions were laxed since the Rhunic captain had 50 other men with him he asked the first dwarf

Captain "Dwarf what is your business in Rhun?"

Dwarf "we are emissaries from The dwarf kingdom of Erebor and the iron hills we are here for an audience with your king"

Captain "well.. we will escort you to The capital if you try to sway from our escort you will be killed is that understood"

Dwarf " mumbles I'd like to see you try Captain "What was that dwarf?" dwarf" oh no nothing we will cause no problem lead the way"

At the palace of king Abbadon of Rhun

Abbadon The tyrant of Rhun sits on his throne looking over a Huge Map of Middle earth

Servant bring Me Saavage I have a mission for him if he is not here within the hour I will feed you to your parents as dessert the servant after hearing this ran as fast as he could for if Abbadon said he would do something you'd better take him seriously. after about a quarter of an Hour Saavage Entered his Kings hall

Saavage "what do you require of me master?"

Abbadon "my master has informed me that we are to marsh on mordor to assist him I will remain but return when the army is off to war I want you to conquer the strip of land between mordor and Rhun I cant have these regions be under neutral control kill enslave cheat murder I don't care just get it done you will take 20.000 and secure the land between Rhun and Mordor we will need Those supply lines if we are to defeat our enemies
also 60.000 troops will support march with you and then continue towards Mordor"

Saavage " yes my master 20.000 troops will secure the area and 60.000 will support me and then I and those 60.000 thousand will march to Mordor"

Outside the main Palace where 80.000 Rhunic soldiers of all types were marching west for the Glory of Rhun

special:

by **Limborg** » Sat May 31, 2014 5:28 pm

Withered Heath
After three days of wandering, the Dwarves found what they where looking for, a very large cave, with in the far end dragon eggs. Dáin and his men had already worked out a tactic if the Dragon would come in. They all took their positions inside the cave. The eggs where opend and laid onto an Iron plate, wich hung above a fire they made. The smell of baked eggs would call the motherdragon back soon enough.
And indeed, it did not take long before the Motherdragon returned full of anger. 100 Dwarves stood right behind the fire with the eggs, raising large shields to cover them from the direct fire. Near the enterance, Dwarves with spears had coverd themselves behind rocks. ready to storm the beast.
The Mother Dragon crawled in the cave, spitting fire at the shieldwall, with no success. Then was the moment that Dáin shouted in Khuzdul, "The end is near; Face the fire with courage men!" That moment a dozen of Dwarves threw sepcial made spears at the dragon, at its wings to be precise. as the spears flew through it they started to pull on the robes they had attached to the spears, pinning down the dragon. Then a few hundred Dwarves stormed in, with spears, axes and pikes they started to attack the Dragon who was still pretty large in comparison to the dwarves.
Slowly the shieldwall moved closer to the dragon, Thanks to the Dwarven skin they could whirstand the intense heath that came from the Dragons mouth. Slowly they dragon fell to its knees, and in the end it got killed.
The men cheered, but Dáin knew this was only a young one, a small dragon, even for the lesser dragons. 43 Dwarves had died, but Dáin had no intentiones to stop. They sawed off the head and placed it on a spear just outside the cave, as a message to all other Dragons out there.
And in that matter they continued their search for more...

Rhûn
The Dwarven companionship where led towards the capital of Rhûn, and in the meanwhile they honestly had a great time. The food was lovely and the Rhûnic borderguards appeard to have more big talk then real muscle. Dwalin and Gimli often made fun of them, making comments on the Rhûnic soldiers in Khuzdul, wich they ofcourse could not understand. They got all angry every single time, and the dwarves just laughed at it. In the end they appeared to be good companions for the time being. It was a long way so the five dwarves where glad to have some fun along the way.

by **Great Empire of Gamilus** » Sat May 31, 2014 7:55 pm

Outskirts of Harondor

The Gondorian force consisting of Captain Auran and four hundred Infantry as well as one hundred archers. a small enough force to take these contested lands and hopefully defend them against any counter attack.

Auran looked at the peaceful lands as his horse clip clopped along the stone road, farmland stretched out for leagues while houses dotted the landscape everynow and then. truly it was untouched by the war for the most part. However that would be changing soon with the coming of the Haradrim. Bloody tribals who fought each other more than half the time, though the true threat resides in their Oliphants, massive beasts of burden with small fortresses on their backs.

They would present a problems if they appeared, but the Rangers had told him Flaming arrows could be used to set the fortifications on fire, which would send the beast into a crazed rampage, looking back at the carts the archers were on he double checked the cargo of arrows and flammable tar used for said fire.

And they had plenty.

After an hour the Company rounded a corner in the road to see a small but seemingly abandon settlement. A good place to camp.

"Men, we camp here, first watch will be assigned after we get the tents up and a perimeter patrol will be starting its first shift. now hup too.

as they went too the Sergeants started yelling out orders.
"Alright Company! we Camp here! Patrols will be assigned after we establish base!"

......
Henneth Annûn

The small band of Rangers crept along the cliff face, their eyes ever watchful for Orc scum, the filth of the Dark Lord. up ahead lay the waterfall entrance of the Annun, the rangers hidden fortress among nature. knocking on the small palaside wall in the way a guard opened a section of the wall and the rangers slipped in before the makeshift gate shut.

the lead ranger of the group removed his hood and turned to the guard.

"Where is Lord Faramir?"

The guard Pointed to the back of caves, giving quick thanks the rangers strode off to find Faramir, whom they found resting in the food hall,a drink in hand. the lead ranger dismissed his fellows and sat down opposite Faramir, clasping his hands together.

"My Lord, the situation is worse than we feared."

looking up Faramir pushed his drink to the side. "How many?"

"More than we could count, the enemy is massing at the Morgul Vale, they will push through Ithilien and continue on to Osgiliath from the looks of their forces, though they are just as likely to try and claim the entirety of Ithilien first."

Faramir swept a hand through his hair, a sigh escaping him.
"Call forth the others from the Rammas, we will give Osgiliath as much time as needed."

"At once my Lord."

the Ranger stood and left, heading for a small stable kept in secret a league or two from the hidden fortress. Gondor must be warned.

by **The Miaphysite Church of Coptic Archism** » Sat May 31, 2014 8:05 pm

Border of the lost kingdom of Arnor
Grima Wormtongue and his band of five Dunlanding guards wandered the dirt road into the long dead kingdom of Arnor. The travel had been quite quiet, people in the lands around Dunland tended to learn the Raiders' ferocity, and no one really felt like a row with them. Grima had quickly grown tired of the blunt way the Dunlandings carried themselves, but he admitted that as fighters they were of use. Grima shook off his thoughts and continued treading down the path. A crow's caw above him shook him not, as his Master's watchful eyes had been observing Grima's progress for most of his journey. Likely both to watch over him, and to make sure he was doing as commanded.

Saruman's Chambers, Tower of Orthanc
Saruman sat in his chamber in silence, in front of him on the stone table sat a tiny cup, in fact, closer to a thimble. Inside was a grey-black powder, ground up finely. Saruman took the thimble to his balcony where it could not damage anything, and then he struck a wick with his magic. He slowly placed the flame into the thimble, and a bang rang out that would have been heard floors below. The thimble had completely vanished, replaced by a smoking stain on the balcony. Saruman wiped the stain from the obsidian balcony and grunted approvingly. Magic was a weapon most powerful, but Saruman could not equip an army with magic, nor could he tear down a great castle. Industry. That was to be his weapon.

by **Black Marshes** » Sun Jun 01, 2014 3:16 am

Morgul Vale
The Witch King's host roared in their triumph- Gondor had been frightened by their great force.

"Servant's of the Dark Lord! The men of the West cower in fear of our great power! The Morgul Vale is ours, and now the rangers of Ithilien will fall to our might! Their forests will burn, their homes razed, and their rivers will run red with the blood of dead Men!"
The Orcs continued their cheer, smashing their shields with their weapons as they looked up to their master.
"Now, harbingers of death, march forth, and burn Ithilien!" The Witch King raised his Morgul blade as he finished the sentence, and he was mimicked by the entire army, who quickly began their march into the lands of Ithilien, ready to conquer the rangers.

Minas Morgul, the Dead City
The towers were finally finished, standing tall and strong around the Gate of Darkness, and were now manned by Morgul Orcs.
Meanwhile, amassed at the gate, was another great host of Orcs similar to that which had conquered the vale. This army would dig in at the mouth of the Morgul Vale, ready to deter an offensive from the pathetic Westerners.

Rhunic-Variag Border, Rhun-Khand
Adunaphel, the Black One, look out across the great pkains of the East. These were lands that the Men and Elves of the West could not even dream of, those of the Wainriders.
Adunaphel spoke in his deathly whisper to the Wainrider chief. "The Dark Lord Sauron wages his war on the West, and I, your King, have returned to gather the Khandish for this glorious invasion."

by **Prusslandia** » Sun Jun 01, 2014 5:50 am

Shelob clicked her fangs happily, long had it been since the favourite of her brood had visited. She embraced him, as best as a Spider could and rubbed her forelegs together.
"Calemvir" she began, her voice old and her body shaken. "What brings you to Mordor and more importantly, to me?"
" I hunger for a brood. I would wish you would.......assist me in this endeavor. " Calemvir said, his apprehensive.
The spawn of Ungoliant moved back, it was not a...thing she had contemplated before. However, she did long for companionship, even if it was her son. She nodded at his request, and proceeded to show him to the inner areas of her lair.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Sun Jun 01, 2014 6:11 am

Depths of Dol Guldur

Down through the winding passages the few companions Mahor had brought with him wound, no torches about them, only eyes as keen as hawks and a long tradition of night-fighting guiding them. Ancient of ancient were these chasms, delved by the First Elves upon the barren hill when the world was young, when birds spoke like men everywhere and the Dawn Singing still hung in the air. At occasion the stone of the staircases the men walked, blades drawn and eyes darting to and fro, would crumble under them. Low curses would fill the gloom then scrabbled for footing, and Mahor peered onward in to the blackness. Only the slow filter of light from cracks in the stonework that the trees had forged in the eons of time since these dungeons were delved gave illumination to the caverns. No fit place for a man of Rhun, raised and bred under the sun and breeze; the Rhunic warriors could almost feel the oppressive earth above them, the weight of stone and steel and the ages crushing down with a resolute force, held at bay only by the cunning work of long-dead Noldor architects.

Eventually, to the relief of the men with Mahor, they came to larger passages; no mere servant's stairways or defenses were these, but corridors where four men could walk abreast, leading to cold forges, silent armories, and dust choked treasure rooms. Here, perhaps, he would find what the Soothsayer had spoken of.

by **Liecthenbourg** » Sun Jun 01, 2014 6:18 am

Mirkwood
With a the mighty baying of teeth and a snarling monstrosity, Durnazag's Warg leapt over the overgrowing roots of one of the trees of Mirkwood. Durnazag was hunched forward, his gauntleted hands clasping tightly onto the loose reins fitted upon the Warg by the Orcs whom manned the pens of Mordor. He was close, he could sense it. The ancestral composite bow of his people was near, he could feel it. In the War of the Last Alliance, Gong forces had been present in Mirkwood, their capable archery used strategically by Sauron against the elves of higher calibre. Alas, Chieftain Gornoc, the mighty wielder of the composite bow, Burzum Ghash, Darkness Fire, had been struck down by 23 arrows as he led a successful counter attack against the Southern Flank of several Elven Contingents. Alas, whilst the day itself was won, the Gongs had taken a terrible blow and their bow was never recovered. These had been the tales told to Durnazag by his kin, and now he sought to right the wrongs.
The Warg pounced forward, its heavy pawns slamming the bandit patrol man beneath him. Durnazag hoped, wished, that none of the other Bandits, under the assumption that there were many, had heard.

by **Palonitr and Howland** » Sun Jun 01, 2014 9:47 am

Erebor, Durindon Blackheart
Durindon woke up from his sleep in a cold sweat. It had had been the 10th time he had been woken up from the same disturbing dreams. He had been dreaming of mithril and the spirits of his ancestors shouting at him in a incomprehendable tongue amd they would lead him to a lake and beyond the lake lay a great gate and suddenly he would get stabbed from the back by a creature that looked like a orc but had burning skin. He had spent much of his time deciphering his dreams. He had figured out that the lake was Kheled-zarame, the lake which Durin the Deathless had stared into and built upon Khazad Dum and so the great gates across the lake was Khazad Dum itself, the long lost homeland of Durin's people. Now he need to find some guidance from the wisest dwarf currently in Erebor.

As he went and walked towards the great hall, where he would find his guidance. Usually, for matters, Durindon would have approached Balin. They had made friends in the aftermath of the Battle of the five armies. Balin was considered to be the most wisest Dwarf in all of Erebor and the Iron Hills. Unfortunately Balin had went to reclaim Khazad Dum years ago and had forbidden Durindon to join him. Now he searched for Hwin, a old dwarf whom was just as wise as Balin at least in Durindon's opinion. He walked and saw the Hwin at the hall outside the Great Hall. "HWIN!!! Old one, I had been looking for you since the morning. Have you been avoiding me?" Hwin looked at him amused, " Now Durin, you know I have the morning shift at the great forges, now what do you require of a old Dwarf like me?" Durindon face turned from a face of joy to a face of thinly veiled worry. He went on and explained his dreams, his interpretations of them and his worries about them. Hwin looked at him and consoled him, "Durindon, these are not dreams. Those are our ancestors communicating to you. They want you to go to Khazad Dum. For whatever reason, they want you to go there. Perhaps they want you to help dear old Balin in his quest to reclaim our ancient homeland from the orcs that dirty our great hallways." Durindon had always wanted to go to Khazad Dum and feel the stones that his forefathers had lived, worked and breathed in. He thought deeply for a long while till Hwin shook him, "Durin, are you fine?" Durindon smiled at him, "Hwin, you always said that I was like a grandson to you and you would do anything for me? Now I am cashing in that favor. I will go to Khazad Dum and I want you to come with me. What say you?" Hwin looked at him and immediately replied, " Aye son, I will go with you but ye will need a company. I will go gather some friends that might come. I suggest you start recruiting some men as well. We will need as much of them aa we can get if we are to survive Durin's Bane and all the orcs in Moria. Go I shall start now." Hwin and Durindon went on their separate ways and started their search for men.

by **New Educandi** » Sun Jun 01, 2014 10:01 am

Main entrance into Rivendell

Finally, after some time on the road, getting poked, bitten at by more than just bugs, and falling into more thank just one stream, Boippi arrived in Rivendell, and once crossing the bridge, he said to the guards,
"I will see your top university overseer, or I swear to the Valar, I will punch someone."

...

Walking around the city, Boippi could not do anything but stair in wonder at the setting he was now in. Looking at at the tall Elves in their flowing robes and clothing, at the awe-inspiring architecture, and the general gist of it.
While walking and staring at the university, he walked straight into a man, rather than elf. Reeling from the collision, he said:
"ooof! ow, you must excuse me sir,"

by **Elerian** » Sun Jun 01, 2014 10:13 am

~Rivendell~

Imrahil was on his way out of Rivendell. He needed to gain support for his cause so he would first start in Gondor, there were still Dunedain living here and there if you looked hard enough. His men were waiting outside the gates for him while he said his goodbyes to everyone, and gathered the last of his supplies. When he went to see Elrond, the elf refused to even talk to him, instead he left a ring with a note for Imrahil. It was a strange gift but a nice one nonetheless. Imrahil could feel power pulsating from the ring itself, he gauged that if he put on the gold band that it would give him power. But Imrahil understood that power could corrupt, so instead of just plopping it on his finger, Imrahil put it into a secure place on his person.

As Imrahil walked to the gates he was thinking hard to himself about what was to come. There were rumors that Mordor was stirring and that meant war was inevitable. As he neared the gates Imrahil nearly plowed over a small child. When it spoke however, Imrahil knew the small man to be no child. Upon closer inspection the small man had hair growing all over his legs, and a voice deeper than any child could possess. Imrahil heard the Hobbit say an apology and begin to walk off. Imrahil spoke up before the Hobbit could leave, "It was my doing, I nearly ran you over. My name is Imrahil, whats your's and while you're at it mind telling me what a Hobbit is doing in Rivendell?" Imrahil looked down at the Hobbit who was several feet shorter than Imrahil, who was taller than most elves or men.

by **New Educandi** » Sun Jun 01, 2014 10:20 am

Elerian wrote:~Rivendell~

Imrahil was on his way out of Rivendell. He needed to gain support for his cause so he would first start in Gondor, there were still Dunedain living here and there if you looked hard enough. His men were waiting outside the gates for him while he said his goodbyes to everyone, and gathered the last of his supplies. When he went to see Elrond, the elf refused to even talk to him, instead he left a ring with a note for Imrahil. It was a strange gift but a nice one nonetheless. Imrahil could feel power pulsating from the ring itself, he gauged that if he put on the gold band that it would give him power. But Imrahil understood that power could corrupt, so instead of just plopping it on his finger, Imrahil put it into a secure place on his person.

As Imrahil walked to the gates he was thinking hard to himself about what was to come. There were rumors that Mordor was stirring and that meant war was inevitable. As he neared the gates Imrahil nearly plowed over a small child. When it spoke however, Imrahil knew the small man to be no child. Upon closer inspection the small man had hair growing all over his legs, and a voice deeper than any child could possess. Imrahil heard the Hobbit say an apology and begin to walk off. Imrahil spoke up before the Hobbit could leave, "It was my doing, I nearly ran you over. My name is Imrahil, whats your's and while you're at it mind telling me what a Hobbit is doing in Rivendell?" Imrahil looked down at the Hobbit who was several feet shorter than Imrahil, who was taller than most elves or men.

"Hmm?" he mumbled, then said:
"Oh; my name is Boippi Brownlock, well met Imrahil. As for what I am doing here, as I am sure you know, Bree was burnt down, and as they provide me with half of my income, I am force to try to convince the cheif books buysers to buy more of my literature. And, now that I think of it, why is a man in a elven city?" Boippi inquired.

by **Liecthenbourg** » Sun Jun 01, 2014 10:31 am

Mirkwood
Durnazag grinned as his Warg bit off the head of the man it had pounced upon. Thankfully, no warning had been given and the Warg did not make much of a loud noise, despite it growling slightly. It was hoped that could pass off as general forest noise. Durnazag spurred his mount onwards through the forest until he came upon several more bandits he noticed in a small clearing. The Warg growled, much to Durnazag's annoyance. The Bandits present turned, noticing the Warg and its rider. The men acted rapidly, bringing out their weapons to face the threat. One of which, drew forth his Elven Bow - Melkor knows how he retrieved such a thing, and fired off an arrow at the Gong. Quick to react, Durnazag was and he raised his arm mounted shield and the arrow harmlessly pinged off the Mordorian Metal. The Warg charged forward, leaping into the air. As it came down, the Bandits met with an odd sight. Standing upon it, wielding his composite bow Durnazag was. He launched an arrow, it flying into the neck of the Bandit with the Bow. He quickly put it on his back and drew forth his Blade Black, using it to counter an assault from the second bandit and his longsword. The Warg itself bit into the arm of the 3rd Bandit, crushing flesh, bone and nerve between its mighty jaws. The Gong rider hacked away at the Bandit who had assaulted him, the Blade Black making short work of his leather armour. By the time he had finished, the Warg had feasted upon the stomach of the 3rd Bandit. Durnazag dismounted his foul steed and hitched it to a tree, where it laid down and rested. Durnazag himself wrapped some cloth around a twig and set it alight with several stones. Deeming his makeshift torch suitable, he proceeded into the cave the bandits had been by.

by **The cold ice** » Sun Jun 01, 2014 11:10 am

Legolas strolled up to the dwarf while motioning for his squad of scouts to lower their guard and continue watching the forests. "Well you're lucky I found you, friend, you are currently walking northwest, and would have come out of the forest so far north that Moria would have been weeks to the south." Realizing his rudeness, he quickly added: "Oh, and I am Legolas, heir to the realm. But I believe you have been found by elves in the forest before. Say, dwarf, what is your name?

Thranduil paced his chambers. The scouts had reported a large horde of orcs moving out of Dol Guldur, headed Eru knew how far north. "I hope we at least can give Galadriel some respite," he whispered, before ordering 300 infantry and 450 archers to take up position in the northeasternmost part of the Narrows and some ways to the north and east of that again, and preparing for a fighting retreat northwards to the prepared positions, where some 200 more infantry would be in reserve, ready to stop what remained. The remaining forces would prepare to hold the old road and the mountain if the harrying force failed. Thranduil hoped the host was not going to attack yet, but he had to prepare for the worst. At least Mirkwood had dangers the Dark Lord did not command. Animals do not take sides, the King thought, and smirked.

Some time later, the audience room

The advisers had gathered anew in the evening, and one of the generals was speaking: "Dol Guldur's intentions are clear. Wherever the host is going, it is not going to Lorien. We must seize the Narrows now. If they are consolidating, then we must do the same, if they are attacking our new holdings then room to maneuver is to our advantage only. The orcs are not familiar with the terrain. More forest to walk through means more casualties. Dol Guldur is antagonized already, my liege. We must move!" The King waved his hand. "If you think it must be done, general. I entrust it to you."

by **Elerian** » Sun Jun 01, 2014 12:25 pm

Imrahil hadn't heard that Bree had burned. Many descendants of the Dunedain had lived there and now it was all but ruins. Imrahil looked down at the Hobbit and tried to mask the anguish he felt over the news. After several moments Imrahil answered, "I live here my friend. But as of now I am leaving to go to Gondor. I have need of those in the south." Imrahil looked down at the Hobbit and wondered what it was he wrote about.

by **New Educandi** » Sun Jun 01, 2014 12:41 pm

Elerian wrote:Imrahil hadn't heard that Bree had burned. Many descendants of the Dunedain had lived there and now it was all but ruins. Imrahil looked down at the Hobbit and tried to mask the anguish he felt over the news. After several moments Imrahil answered, "I live here my friend. But as of now I am leaving to go to Gondor. I have need of those in the south." Imrahil looked down at the Hobbit and wondered what it was he wrote about.

Boippi looked at the man, and it seemed that something must have happened. But, dismissing it, he said
"Gondor? Excuse me, but aren't they in several wars? You might have some trouble getting help from them," He commented.
"very well, then! I must go to the university headmaster, so, good luck with your mission!" he exclaimed, sticking his furry hand out for a hand shake.

by **Elerian** » Sun Jun 01, 2014 1:34 pm

A thought crossed Imrahil's mind, and without thinking he blurted it out to the little Hobbit. "Why don't you come with me? To Gondor I mean. It would give you something to write about, and maybe you could find someone who would buy your books down there?" Imrahil didn't know how the little Hobbit would react but Imrahil thought that the Hobbit would decline. Imrahil nervously awaited Boippi's response.

by **Valentir** » Sun Jun 01, 2014 1:39 pm

Old Road, Forests of Rhudaur, Eriador

Sylvanas and her party marched along the old road. It was cracked and and in near ruin yet it was still in heavy use by travellers and merchants. They would be entering the forests between the Trollshaws and Cameth Brin soon, and the forest were dangerous, for there lurked lions, and tigers, and bears oh my! Travelling anywhere in Middle-Earth was no longer safe with Sauron and his lackeys about. The Free-Peoples would prevail however, and restore peace to this land. And so the rangers continued to march, their cloaks flowing the wind, their feet stomping on the ground. The march to Cameth Brin had just begun...

The Lord of the Rings RP [IC]

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