RP Simulations

[Anamatar IV]

© 2002 Anamatar Industries, Heren Istarion™

It has come to my attention that there is littl activity in this guild with those who are not involved with the current rp. So I give you the rp simulation thread. Each week an rp trainer will post a scenario and you, as your rp character, will create an rp post. This is a great way to see how you rped before Heren Istarions training and how you rp after. Anyone can participate even if youre a trainer. I may even make this into a contest...hmm I dunno;)

So here is the first scenario:

You and 4 others have just defeated a pack of orcs in the woods. You are tired of battle and your wounds ache. But in the distance you hear a scream of thousands of orcs.

[Celebthôl]

okie dokie if we're in the middle of training can we still rp here?
i.e. could i rp now?

[Anamatar IV]

In Heren istarion we made it so that you cant participate in the Heren Istarion rps until you finish training. So I made this thread so you can rp. You can be active in this thread during, before, after training, ANY time when youre a member in Heren Istarion you can do this.

[Celebthôl]

Ill be first character then

Celebthôl drew back and wiped clean Nárkal, he re-sheathed (sp) it and quickly ran around picking up any arrows he could find intackt (sp),

ooc-are we acting as i.e paladins or the other characters were?

he draws his bow and stands ready for more characters to come and for the onslaught to arive, while he catches his breath he looks around for a good place to make a defesive platform, he sees a falled tree and stands atop it and looks toward the sound

[Anamatar IV]

there is some confusion here. You post a single reply. Yours will difer from everyone elses. If I said:

Anamatar glanced at the others and they all ran

someone else might say

The 4 turned to fight...won a glorious victory with but 1 loss. You post your OWN idea. Its not a real rp...just an rp post kind of thing. In this particular scenarion you can all fight well.

[Phenix]

ooc: okay I'll give it a try

ic: " taroth can you climb that tree to see how may they are" Phenix asked on of the two other elves who stood besides him and the dwarf.
"shure" taroth said and started tp climb the tall tree. a few minits later he came down, looking really scared
" there's thousands(sp?) of them we beter get out of here."
"if you say so...can everyone walk" Phenix asked the others
"I can" the last elf said "but I'm not sure about our small friend here"
" hrmm I can walk perfecly" the dwarf said and tryed to walk but fell to the ground
" I gues we'll have to carry him" Phenix said and together they ran trouht the woods carring the dwarf.

a few houers later they found a cave deep in the forest which they desided to spend the night in.


(ooc: was it something like this you had in mind?)

[Anamatar IV]

yes. You would post as you would in an rp if you had just read this scenario. Im gonna do one here:

Anamatar sheathed his sword and touched his brow. The battle was long and hard. But suddenly a harsh cry of orcs jerked him from his peace. He drew his sword swiftly and herded the 3 hobbits infront of him.

"RUN! RUN!" he shouted. The hobbit's small legs could only carry them so fast. He stooped down and lifted the hobbits off oftheir feet. Arrows whistled and ricocheted off tree trunks. The yells became louder and fiercer. ANamatar ran this way and that. ORcs seemed to constantly pop out infront of him. Soon he was cornered.

He let the hobbits down and drew his sword once more. He charged into the front of battle with the thousands of orcs. He heaved his sword and thrusted it this way and that. He gave the cry "Elendil!" and hurled himself into the battle once more. A wall of foes he made around the hobbits. But alas! Anamatar Osterel, son of Atanam, Lord of Dol Amroth fell in the raging battle. A valiant attempt at the rescue of the weak yet an orc dagger was stuck in his throat. And so the prophecy was full-filled.

[Azog]

Here goes:

Alkorrian stood with his comrades. Their numbed had gone from twelve to seven. Limbs and corpses lay strewn about the ground, and many an orc lay, pierced with arrows or fallen to the blade of the warriors. Blood stained the dead grass, blackening the rough dead stems. Alkorrian gazed further into the woodlands. His eyes caught a standard, held high in the air, adorned with the head of a slain elf.

"Orc are near, and by their standard, they must have more than two legions." spoke Anathúñe, a tall bowman, standing next to Alkorr.
"Then flight is at hand," replied the muscular monk, holding only a staff, splintered from the contact it had encountered with the orcs' skulls.

They took off with great speed, but found no stamina in their bruised bodies. The only hope now was to hide.

Alkorr and Anathúñ clambered up a tall oak tree. The others found perches as well.

"Loose no arrow and make no sound," Alkorr commanded. "For if the keen orc eyes see us, or their sharp ears hear us this night, our hope is quenched."

All that was left to do was to wait.

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

OOC: I know I have'nt been trained yet, but this isn't _real_ RPing so I figure I'd try it out...

IC: Ripping out his last throwing axe from an Orc's neck, pain shot up through Dain's small but muscular arms. His dragon helm was knocked off his head in the heat of battle and a small Orc slashed Dain across his broad forehead, the gash burned like a raging fire.

"Fly! Quickly!" the tall Elf maiden, Lileena, yelled in her strange Elvish manner. With her Elf eyes, Lileena spotted the gleam of black armor in the moonlight.

"I can see about a thousand Orcs heading this way to avenge their fallen," she warned.

The five companions ran as fast as their weary limbs could take them, yet fatigue proved to be the stronger foe. After reaching the borders of the forest, Dain halted, and the others soon followed.

"We must go on! It is folly to fight so many Orc!" yelled Bronin, the only Man among the party.

"And where do you suggest we go to, Master Bronin? The barren wastelands that lay out before us? We have not the strength to run without any means of cover! Orc arrows would find us before we reached two feet out of the forest! Nay, I will fight in the cover of the trees as long as my stout heart allows! These Orc will learn to fear the axe of Dain Ironfoot!" bellowed Dain.

The Dwarf adorned his red mask and took up his axe in a fighting stance characteristic to Mountain Kings.

"The Dwarf is right," sneered Lileena. "We have no choice but to fight and hope that the Orcs flee in terror after their comrades fall in the darkness. Perhaps we can give them the impression that there is more of us than they imagined."

She stood tall and proud, and fit two arrows to her long silver bow. The two Hobbits in the party also fit arrows to their smaller bows.

"This is madness, but we must pick our poison: Fight or flee. Death lies in both directions. I will fight and hope that our last stand may be worth a song, at the very least," Bronin said as he unsheathed his sword.

The first Orc crashed through the bushes and met the terrible wrath of Dain's axe.

[Rasec]

- Orcs! I can hear them! They are coming - said Rasec, the Elf-Human.
- How many do you think there are, Rasec? - asked Nyagrin, an Elf Lady.
- Many, lots. Actually, Nyagrin, I think there are thousands.
What must they do? - that is what they were thinking about. There was no other choice but to fight the orcs. Hellyhan and Mounyne, a Man and a Hobbit, said they were too tired to fight, so they ran away and let the two elves alone. Now they were less.
- I have a plan - said Rasec then. - Let us climb a very tall tree and start loosing our arrows while they are far. Few of them might arrive here, and then it will be easier for us.
It happened so. They climbed the tallest tree they could see and loosed lots of arrows, killing most of the orcs. The remnant orcs were too scared that they ran away from where the arrows were coming.

[Azog]

Azog's advice------>>>> It is impossible for two elves to kill "thousands of orcs".

<EDIT-Even If you only killed 100, why would the other 900+ run away then?-EDIT>

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

I agree Azog... that WAS pretty far fetched. :(

[Rasec]

Thanks you too. But the point is: the orcs did not know there were only TWO people. They could not see Rasec and Nyagrin, and both were loosing lots of arrows, so the remnant orcs, as already said, ran away fearing they would all die. They thought there were lots of elves waiting for them. Well... that is my point.

'Cesar.

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

I got Anamatar's permission to create a new scenario so here goes...

You and your companion are travelling through a forest searching for an Elven village to spend the night in. When the Elf village is finally in sight, many enraged Huorns move to block your path and extend angry branches in your direction. You and your friend must battle the hasty Huorns in order to get to safety.

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

OOC: Following Anamatar's example, Ill go first.

IC: Dain spotted the movement in the corner of his eye.

Almost instantaneoulsy (sp), Dain unclasped Baruk-zaram from its straps and threw it in front of him in Dwarf-fashion. Confused yet alarmed, Kilease did the same as her Lord.

Kilease, the only female-Dwarf in Dain's army, was one of the best Dwarven warriors ever seen west of Khazad-dum. Sporting a bushy, yet smaller beard than the males of her race, Kilease was often mistaken for a male Dwarf while in Men's cities. Her raiment however, was a simple dress, wove of black chain and lined with bronze clasps.

Scanning the forest, Dain could see no signs of an enemy, and yet, he felt something watching him; peering through his very soul.

"What is it, milord?" Kilease said in a mocking tone.

"Something moved ahead of us, in front of that Elven-gate, but I feel as if it was something other than an Elf; something dark and angry." Dain replied.

"Ah, rubbish! I'm sure it was nothing more than a--" with a great crunch, Kilease was stopped from finishing her slandering.

A great tree had crushed the Dwarf between its gargatuan branches, effectively breaking her from the inside-out.

Dain, however, was not so easily caught off guard. With a great cry, he axed the closest Huorn at its thick base. Most axes would have bounced off harmlessly, but Baruk-zaram was not like most axes. Black ooze issued out of the wound and the Huorn fell into another with a great clamour.

Still, more Huorns came towards Dain without a sound, and lunged at him with their hatred and anger. Dain fled between them, only to be met by two more Huorns. Battle was hopeless, not even the great Dain, Lord of Erebor, could defeat Huorns in their rage without the aid of fire.

As if from the heavens, hundreds of flaming arrows were loosed from the bows of the Wood Elves from beyond the gate, emptying themselves into the trunks of the Huorns. Taking advantage of this blessing, Dain sliced the closest Huorn in half, whom was weakened from the flame. Then two more fell to the mirrored blade of Baruk-zaram in its wrath.

The remaining Huorns fled into the cover of the wood, beating themselves wildly to quench the ravenous flame.

Dain, exhausted and nearly defeated, took off his helm and tore at his beard for the loss of Kilease.

[Azog]

Great post, although you prob. should give an explanation for the arrows.

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

Yea I thought the post didnt turn out too bad. Not bad for a trainee I guess. And btw, the arrows were from the Elves of course.

[Azog]

Tell the reader, because it is not an instantly assumable thing, for even though they are near an Elven village, you never know who else is there.

Good descriptions though. Excellently done.

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

Thanks.. for the compliment AND the avatar. Now all I need to do is change my title from Loremaster

[Azog]

Here is a new scenario that I have devised. This your chance to be creative.
_________________________________________
You are standing in a large courtyard. There is a large procession to your left. A garden of exotic flowers lies ahead of you, and to your right is a large monument...
_________________________________________


I want detail in this. NO FIGHTING. Be creative.
'What is the statue?'
'Who are in the procession?'
Make it up!

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

NO FIGHTING!!! Geez... that is my specialty! Lets see if you like this one: :p

IC: The Dwarf walked slowly into the ruins, scanning for signs of the enemy all the while. His iron-clad feet tore at the earth with each delicate step, leaving marks of freshly turned soil. Stone lay heaped in ruined piles, tall grasses burst through like green spears waving in the warm breeze. Axe in hand, Dain Ironfoot crept slowly into the ancient building through a small rift in the stone wall.

This building was unlike any Dain had ever seen in his long years. The interior of this ancient place was naught but a simple courtyard, and yet much more.

This place has an Elvish feeling too it Dain thought to himself.

Ivy crept up the stone walls, weaving its way through one another, similar to the way a snake crawls on the forest floor. Along the edges of the courtyard was many gardens, filled with trumpet-like flowers of a golden hue. A great pool of water lay in the center of the courtyard, yet it did not mirror the blue sky above it. Naught could be seen upon its fair surface, and the Dwarf was drawn towards it, as a moth towards an open flame.

Closer Dain came to the pool, not realizing his peril. The crystal pool seemed to call out to him, coaxing him to its seductive voice.

Look into my waters, Lord Ironfoot, and behold a golden dream. it whispered.

Greedy are Dwarves, and greedier are their Lords, and Dain looked upon the pool's clear surface without hesitation. Its empty reflection soon took the image of the courtyard itself, but it was younger somehow. Ivy had disappeared from its walls, many Elves were seen walking away from the courtyard clad in garments of war. But in the center of it all was not a pool, but a golden statue of an Elven maiden. Her face was small and delicate, her raiment a simple dress. Her hands were clutched about her breast holding something that Dain knew was of great importance. The Dwarf desired what she held, partly because he knew not what it was.

Dain reached out to open her golden grasp, his only goal to get whatever it was she held.

His hand merely touched the image on the pool and he was instantly pulled in, axe and all. A golden hand clutched on to his wrist, preventing him from escaping; his limbs thrashed wildly, desperately trying to reach the surface.

The last Dain saw was the golden face of an Elf maiden, her eyes blazing and filled with wrath. Thus, the Golden Maiden ensnared another victim, and Dain's greedy corpse remained at the bottom of the mysterious pool, never to see the light of day again.

[Anamatar IV]

<<<<<<Anamatar's Advice (:p Azog)>>>>>>

It was very good. Creative to say the least:rolleyes: ;)

Advice to all:

You dont need to have a definite ending for an rp post:

A golden hand clutched on to his wrist, preventing him from escaping; his limbs thrashed wildly, desperately trying to reach the surface.

That as an ending sounds just as good as what you had. But I'd prefer the one I have here because it allows other members to take off on what you put in your post.

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

Thanks Anamatar. And I agree with you, I didnt want to finish it, but since this isnt a real RP, no one else would have finished it for me, so I did it myself! :D And when you say creative, you mean that in a good way, no?

[Anamatar IV]

I meant very abstract;) Im going to do one now and it will be after your unfinished post--Thuhs demonstrating answering a good post with a good post
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anamatar had walked in with the dwarf. They were good friends. But now it seemed their entire friendship would be deestroyed by a pool of water. The golden arm had shot out like an arrow (<aa (anamatars advice)> There are no bullets in Middle-earth so I do not say "shot out like a bullet") and pulleed dain under. Yet that dwarf ws strong and even yet he was struggling before the very doors of death.

"Demon of underworld get thee gone!" Anamatar shouted. He ran to Dain and heaved but he could not pull him free. The arm seemed to have the strength of 20 men and the persistance of 20 dwarves.

But with a great pull Anamatar finally freed Dain of his captivity. Water sprayed upon the floor. It burned to steam (<AA> evaporate is a word in science from much later than middle-earth--thus I do not use it) when it touched ground. But something still moved in the pool.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In Anamatar's advice I showed you how to not use some common expressions from now in your rp posts.

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

Did I use some modern words?:confused: I tried not to... I even used something as big as "naught" :D OK thanks for the constructive criticism

It seems as if I am the only trainee who actually posts...

[Anamatar IV]

I was refering to no one in parrticular. Just giving advice.

[Azog]

<<<AZOG'S ADVICE AND NOT SOME CHEAP IMITATION;)>>>

I would have used dissipated on the floor, An.

I would also might have used this:

"The arm, laden with beautiful gold, had taken Dain in an instant."

The reason being is that this doesn't directly parallel to any modern phrases. (Is as quick as a bullet even a phrase???)

My example isn't the best of 'em all, but I think that using modern parallels is kind of cheap.

Also, Dain. When you use Italics put phrases like that on a seperate line to emphasise.

Exe:
__________________________________________________
'This place had an Elvish feeling too it.'Dain thought to himself. Ivy crept up...
__________________________________________________
vs.
__________________________________________________
'This place had an Elvish feeling too it.' Dain thought to himself.

Ivy crept up...
__________________________________________________

That is about it...

<<<Azog's Praise>>>
Beautifully written piece of work. I really like the use of English and Literary stuff (similes etc.). The description was wonderful, and your method of ending was very nicely executed.

As Anamatar said, you can leave out a conclusion, but in this case, I personally recommend finishing it or leaving it at a stopping point that doesn't leave the reader 'hanging' to as much extent. You wrote your ending very well, and portrayed a very surreal 'dreamworld' type setting.

Keep up the high quality work.

I am going to post my reply to this pretty soon. I will try to match the performance Dain gave.

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

I'll be looking forward to it, Azog...

[Anamatar IV]

Originally posted by Azog
(Is as quick as a bullet even a phrase???)


"shot out like a bullet" it is a phrase;) I will have to come up with a new scenario post as well. I am a bit dissappointed with mine...

[Anamatar IV]

Glador stared about him. He was in a place of upmost beauty. A paradise. He felt oddly at ease. Like how you feel when the sun shines down on your ship after a day of rough waters.

sharply, he whirled around. Long lines of elves moved slowly by him, chanting a song that had never been heard in Middle-earth. Each of them bore a candle and they moved slowly. Galdor stared upon them. In this land unknown to mortal men the fair folk walk and sing. As the Elves sang flowers seemed to spring up out of the ground. Exotic flowers of pink and yello, blue and white. He took a step forward. His foot steps echoed across the land, through rivers, and over the seas. People in Middle-earth might have thought that thunder was come and storm racing across the sea. But it was not so. A sunny day was beheld east of the sea.

Suddenly Galdor heard a voice.

"Hail Galdor of the Havens! Sister-son of Cirdan and mighty elf upon Middle-earth!" Galdor spun and looked upon an elf. He seemed tall as mountains and mighty as the seas. His golden hair was thrown back from a wind that was steadily growing.

"The days of yonder are over, my son. Thy toils in the hither lands are over. Thou hast died in valor and is come to Valinor," the great elf spoke. "A great evil have ye destroyed--a great evil come indeed from Valinor. But be not troubled! Their spirits dwell not here but in the nothingness of the Void. But thou art summoned, Galdor, before the Valar. I, Eonwe, has indeed been sent from Lord of the West, Manwe." Galdor was strucken. He bowed before the herald of the lord of Valar. And he spoke. His voice was heard clear. It rung like silver trumpets baying in the wind.

"I do not know what the Lords of Aman do wish of me but I will go. lead me to the Valar, if thou wilt, for I do not know the way." And Eonwe led Galdor at last before the thrones of the valar. And galdor spoke ahead of the valar.

"What dost thou wish of me? Why hast thou taken from me my passage to Mandos? I have died, not left from the havens."

And Manwe spoke: "True words ye say, sister-son of Cirdan. We have taken your passage to the halls of Mandos from thou. For by the wish of Iluvatar thou wilt be sent to Middle-earth. Thou alone hast defied Maiar of the Valar--greatest of all living things. Mighty thou art. Valiant too. For these reasons thou wilt take a ship to Middle-earth and be mighty among elves. Thou wilt go with the blessing of the Valar for indeed it was us who brought death upon thee. Thy life we give back. Ulmo, lord of the waters, will bare thee across the sea on strong winds and thou wilt set foot upon the shores of Middle-earth. Great again shall that land be when thou steps upon it."

And Galdor bowed. he had expected nothing of the sort. But Manwe was not done.

"Thou hast a task to complete during thy time in Arda. Thou must bring joy to each race. The kings of men, lords of elves, miners of dwarves. Until thy task is finished thou wilt not be admitted to Mandos." And before Galdor could praise the Valar he was gone.

Years later, Galdor awoke on the floor of a ship. A great bird was above him. It was his falcon-his pet from Middle-earth.

Galdor stood. He was different than when he saw himself last. He was taller. His voice was louder. His hair more golden. He was...fairer.

He stood and looked out over the ragin seas. The depths of time which none can measure. Beyond the clouding mists and the shadows of gulls Galdor saw land. It was Middle earth. His journey to Aman and the journey back was complete.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Galdor: this was just what I think might have happened when your rp character died and came back. You guys should read the last few pages of the Mithril Knights private rp to know what its most about.

BTW-incase you dont wanna look it up: the evil that the valar sent was the ithrynluin.

[Azog]

<<<<<< AZOG'S ASTOUNDINGLY ANNOYING, YET TRUE, ADVICE FOR THE BOSS >>>>>>

What was his name, Glador or Galdor? :D;)

'ragin' might actually be spelt raging.

The depths of time which none can measure is a fragment.

What's with the OOC stuff. None of that in this place!!! ;)

His hair more golden is another fragment.

"His voice was louder." Does he talk to himself, or was there someone on the ship to tell that his voice was louder.

Make sure to capitalize 'sharply' next time. I was disgusted... Not really. Just being evil. :D

'yello', huh... Is that a new color???

'thunder was come and storm racing across the sea.' ummm... no comment

'But it was not so.' should be converted to a more fitting sentence such as... some better one...

"He seemed<<<insert an 'as'>>> tall as mountains and <<<ditto>>> mighty as the seas"

Thou hast died in valor and is come to Valinor- someone should have taught Mandos some grammar before allowing him to intervene... ;)

'Valiant too.' is not a complete sentence, as well as some others.

'he had expected nothing of the sort.'- AAARGHHH!!! CAPITILIZATION

'And before Galdor could praise the Valar he was gone.' Don't start a sentence with 'and', and find a home for a comma in there.

That is all that I could find, but I am sure that there are more in there. Muhahaha!!!

[NO OFFENSE]

[Anamatar IV]

yeah Azog you had to resort to picking out every spelling/grammar mistake since you couldnt find any others.;) And I will justify most of these:

The depths of time which none can measure is a fragment.

Great writers often write in fragments.

His voice was louder." Does he talk to himself, or was there someone on the ship to tell that his voice was louder

Now youre just a nitpicker;)

'thunder was come and storm racing across the sea

Tolkien wrote alot like this. Are you insulting tolkien?:eek: ;) "He seemed<<<insert an 'as'>>> tall as mountains and <<<ditto>>> mighty as the seas"
I prefer to use metaphors;)

Thou hast died in valor and is come to Valinor- someone should have taught Mandos some grammar before allowing him to intervene...

Valor. Meaning the past tense of valiant combat. "Their battle was won in valor." Again tolkien wrote like this. PLUS THIS WAS MANWE NOT MANDOS YOU DOLT!;)

'And before Galdor could praise the Valar he was gone.' Don't start a sentence with 'and', and find a home for a comma in there.

Now youre speaking like a third grade teacher;)

[Azog]

At least I can spell Galdor, raging* (I thought that I saw a rollin somewhere, but it was really a raging) and ,of course, yellow.

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

Yowch... harsh!

[Rasec]

Could you please stop argueing? =)

'Cesar.

[Azog]

This was just a joke amongst trainers, Rasec. We aren't really arguing. ;)

[Rasec]

That was just a joke from me as well, Azog. :p
See you soon,
'Cesar.

[Anamatar IV]

yeah, not arguing. Trainers demand perfection of other trainers.;)

Come on, azog. Lets see yours *wishes he could put in devil smilie like on msn*

[Azog]

When I get home from school I will begin. It will be the longest post ever.

BEAT THAT POST BELOW THIS ONE!!!

[Azog]

Alkorr stood in a massive courtyard. There was a large procession to his left. His eyes gazed upon the exotic flowers ahead of him. To his right stood a large monument.

[Anamatar IV]

Hey azog, do you want some Anamatar's Advice for that?:p ;) :p

On a scale of 1-5 i'd give that a 3.141592653.:eek:

no thats just pi. ;)

Im sorry Azog but that was a disgrace!;)

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

Yes... quite pathetic if I do say so myself.

[Azog]

Compare it to the original concept and you will see how accurate it is though. ;)

[Anamatar IV]

being accurate doesnt make it a good rp post. And infact it wasnt so accurate:

I want detail in this.

You yourself said you wanted detail. :p;)

Does anyone have a *serious* post?

[Azog]

I'll get one up tommorrow afternoon, prolly. Today, I just didn't feel like doing a great post today. At least I spelled the character's name right.

[Azog]

The massive courtyard stood in the midst of a large city. Many young children frolicked on the soft green grass. Alkorr stood alone, and walked unnoticed, but what he saw amazed him.

The endless gardens stretched far ahead of him, and beautifully colored flowers were budding in the newborn spring. Small streams flowed along, irrigating the vastness of beautiful plants. The aroma of the flowers made Alkorr lightheaded, for the beautiful smell was amazing.

The sound of harps and lyres was faint, but constantly became louder. It soon resounded amongst the throng of people, bringing joyous melody to the once still air. Alkorr listened to the wondrously played song, brought to life by string and brass instruments. The music was played in accord, and slowly faded off to the eastern walls of the courtyard.

Alkorr turned too walk away, but stood in awe as he beheld a great statue. It stood over twenty meters in height, and must have been seen from anywhere in the city. The statue was of a king of old, preserved by the care of the gardener, an elf with many years of knowledge.

Alkorr turned to see Andiron, another monk, resting on a bench near to where he stood.

“Greetings, Andiron. What a wondrous place this is! My eyes have not beheld such beauty in a long while, and this brings rest to me,” Alkorr spoke, as he turned to gaze once again at the gardens, and the monument.

“Yes, ‘tis a wonderful spot for me as well,” Andiron spoke, “and every time that I gaze upon the gardens my heart finds rest.”

The two men sat and talked, and after hours of conversing, Andiron left. Their words of parting were short, for Andiron was in great haste. Alkorr then walked through the massive gardens for the first time.

[Anamatar IV]

~~~~anamatar's advice~~~~

Alkorr turned too walk away

That should be Alkorr turned to walk away

an elf

I am sorry Azog but Elf should always be capitalized
Andiron spoke, “and every time that I gaze

The 'and' should be capitalized

The statue was of a king of old, preserved by the care of the gardener, an elf with many years of knowledge.

You've got some comma mishap because what that sentence is saying is the Elf with years of knowledge is the king

And I think you spaced it randomly. The first 2 paragraphs are both description thus should be together.

no offense;)

[Azog]

<<<AZOG'S RESPONSE>>>

<<<<NONE TAKEN>>>


eLF IS NEVER CAPITALIZED!!!, and you missed another one that I will now edit.

__________________________________________________ __________
quote:
----------------------------------------------------------------------Andiron spoke, “and every time that I gaze
---------------------------------------------------------------------

The 'and' should be capitalized

It was a continuation of a sentence, and therefore doesn't need to be capitalized.

I won't argue about the too part. :rolleyes:

At least I spelled my character's name right.:D

[Anamatar IV]

But azog it IS a continuation but it is still capitalized. I will place up to and not exceeding (;)) 400 dollars on that. The first word in quotes is caps.

For the elf:

You CAN caps it...

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

I thought Elf was capitilized as well, along with Orc, Dwarf, Eagle, Hobbit, etc. Tolkien didnt always follow this rule, but he did other times so it tends to get confusing. So I say capitilization is at your discretion.

[Anamatar IV]

let us have a little contest, shall we, for the first time.:) since the Grand Council will be judging both Azog's and my own posts will not be in the contest. THe winner will be announced on january 8th (to give people who totally blew HI off for the vacation time.;) just kidding)

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

You are on a boat, prepared to strike the Gondorian forces in a naval battle. The Men of Gondor have destroyed your home and your family, you despise them with all your heart. Gondor is an evil, twisted race of Men and must be destroyed, this battle will mark the turning point of the war. The boats are alongside each other now, grappling hooks extend from deck to deck, people from both sides are assailing the opposite ship. Describe the naval battle as according to your character.

[Anamatar IV]

Istrine, a man of Umbar raised his great axe and brought it down upon the head of an attacking Gondorian. He withdrew to the helm of the ship and watched the battle. As the sailors of the ship clashed swords and fired shafts Istrine and fellow captains loaded a great engine. The toiled endlessly and soon had it ready for firing.

"Let loose!" Istrine called. The trebuchet was cut free and a great stone was hurled. Screams from the Gondorian boat were heard as the stone pumbelled the decks of the ship and crashed through the very floor of the boat.

Water gushed into the ship. The battle was over-no more fighting was there. Istrine slowly turned his Corsair and set sail back to Umbar
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I post this as I would in the war rps since I assume I will be needing the practise before I suddenly go out to sea and expect to fight;)

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

The Gondorians in their plumed helms tossed chain links onto the deck of the Khazad-zaram. The Khazad-zaram was a Dwarven ship, made of fine metals and strong alloys. It was a great block of shining metal that drfited along the sea, an armored mass of terror. From within its massive hull were great cannons that shot flame and rained death upon its enemies, on its deck were many stone collapsable stone pillars used for ammunition in times of need. The Khazad-zaram was the ultimate naval vessel, capable of taking on an entire fleet by itself, but this was all to change.

Dain Ironfoot was ready for the Men of Gondor as they assailed the ship. Flame spewed out of the ships many cannons, burning and scorching the wooden ships of Gondor. Dain's axe hewed many heads of the enemy sailors, who were weakly armored and weakly armed. Dain laughed to himself, not one Dwarf had fallen at the hands of the enemy, and the Gondorian fleet was on fire, sinking into the great Sea.

"We have victory! We are invincible!" Dain shouted, "Baruk-khazad! Khazad ai-menu!" The Dwarves raised their axes in joy, but they were too hasty for this was what the Gondor captain had wished for. In their joy and excitement, the Dwarves in the ship had left the flame cannons to spew fire from their bellies, and the Gondor captain knew what to do. He gave the signal for a small ship to sail up to the hull of the metallic monster, and insert a large battering ram inside one of the cannons. Instantly, the flame, unable to find its way outside, turned on itself and swallowed the inside of the hull. A great rumble was heard, and Dain realized what was happening too late, for the ship exploded in a mammoth fireball, shrapnel and pieces of Dwarves landed all around the Sea, staining it black and red. The Men of Gondor had lost three ships, but compared to the loss of the Dwarves, it was insignificant.

[Anamatar IV]

You and your comrad are sailing on the seas on a calm day. Make a post where nothing exciting happens, but rather have interaction between the two characters and much description.

You CAN make this into a LONG post. I have seen someone make a HUGE HUGE HUGE post out of a small army moving from point a to point b. so be creative with this. Develope characters, provide quotes, the sort.

[Mablung]

Sun gleamed off of the water, and nails that held the great ship Isitrine together. She rode in the middle of the great armada sailing off to do battle, but she still had a dignity that made her shine out among the others. The glimmering light was only peeking over the horizon giving a red tint to everything it touched. As Sarin Skysight climbed onto the top deck he thought of the blood that all the ship's crew had spent at one time or another. Taken a back by the sight and not wanting to lose the thought process he had going on he sat on a railing looking at the now red sea.

His thought process was rudely interrupted by the helmsman. This parti curly vile tempered man looked like a mess with a large scraggly red beard and unkempt hair. His shirt was half untucked and the sour look on his face and the way he was holding his head suggested he was also in the midst of quite a horrible hangover. "Bloody light! Who’s idea was it for the sun to rise the way we are going anyway?" He looked around the deck at everyone glaring. These actions suggested to Sarin that maybe it wasn't just a hangover.

"Powers greater than those any aboard this ship could possibly possess were the ones that set the Sun and Moon on their appointed courses." Sarin said this politely hoping to calm the man, but unfortunately it had no effect.

The man glared wrathfully at Sarin. "Ay, well Who’s idea was it to sail this way then? Answer me that! With the color of that rising sun I reckon we are edging the near of the world! (yes that was intentional) Why we could sail right off and be destroyed if these commanders don't get their acts together."

Sarin was quite taken aback, and finally spoke when he realized the man was not joking. "Edge of the world? That’s preposterous S-... What is your name?"

The man straightened up proudly. "Why I be Vim Silverhands I do. First one of my family in 13 generations to do something other than smithing. And the first one ever to even go on a ship! But don't let that fool you I still learned all my seamanship from me dad. He's the one that taught me about the edge of the world he did."

Sarin looked at him oddly still amazed that he was being serious. Then wondering how he got the job of helmsman he managed a reply. "So... you learned all you know about the sea from your father who had never been on a ship his entire life?"

"Ay that I did, so I do know what I am talking about and I'm going to turn this ship around if the ones in the lead don't realize what they're doing. I'll get us through this."

Sarin glanced around nervously at how they were boxed in with many other ships to either side of them hardly giving any room to turn a bit much less turn all the way around. Quickly he saw another sailor whom he had seen steering the ship once or twice before and went for a bluff. "Well Vim your right, but this is sunset, so we cannot possibly be going towards the edge of the world."

Vim blinked a few times looking around confused. "But my shift is from sunrise to sunset." He looked very perplexed at this point.

Sarin eased up next to him. "Ay and you have been steering us true all day, but the other helmsman is here to take over for now" He frantically gestured for the other sailor to come over quickly. The sailor looked confused but did as he was asked too.
Vim laughed and clapped the other sailor on the back. This knocked him down and Vim happily picked him up still laughing. "So, Narin they finally promoted you from deck boy did they? Fine work my boy glad to see you made it!"

Narin coughed then catching a look from Sarin he played along. "W-w-why yes they did thank you Vim." He gave a very weak unconvincing smile the grabbed the wheel turning away from Vim and Sarin gripping it so hard his knuckles turned white."

Sarin turned to Vim then grateful he was away from the wheel. "You look very tired my friend I will tell the cooks to keep some food for you, but you should go get some rest now." Sarin smiled hoping he wouldn't go eat now and discover breakfast was just beginning to be made. But, then again he thought, he may not find that strange either.

Vim chewed on his cheek for several minutes acting as though it was a very difficult decision then cleared his throat to present his conclusion. "Ay I believe I will make sure that they keep it away from the dogs I don't want any slobber on it when I get it."

Sarin looked after Vim as he went downstairs confused simply by the fact that there were no dogs aboard.

[Anamatar IV]

Very, very good post:) I can't say I have much to say for it....unless it be that you put an extra period at the end:p

[Mablung]

Thanks and I edited the period thing even though its not a big problem. Glad to know that it met your approval. (Oh and if you think this post is spam and don't want it in here just PM me and Ill delete it.)

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

A single torch was lit in the darkness that was Khazad-dum. As if the Sun herself had fallen into the deep places of the earth, so was the darkness lifted, and all around the torch bearer was a vast open space, filled with glittering sapphire and sparkling silver, slowly rippling in the silent halls of Khazad-dum. This was the hidden pool of Khezed-zigil, the pool which had quenched the fires of Durin's bane and the light of Tharkun the Grey in their clamatic battle in ages past. The enchantments of Tharkun, ripping through Durin's bane, had purged the lake of the evil creatures lurking within, and transformed it into a well of eternal beauty.

On the edge of the silent water stumbled two Dwarves clad in mithril and iron, the Ironfoots of Erebor. "Dain, is this not more beautiful than the mithril mines we saw upon the surface? I could stay here forever, and forget the troubles of the Lonely Mountain!" bellowed Kilease Ironfoot, wife of Dain, daughter of Kloin, son of Fudin. Her voice was deep and brisk, but softer than a thread of gold on a Dwarf-lass' raiment. Her beard was long and golden-brown, and her face was cheerful and radiated with bliss and adventure.

"Nay, my Diamond of Erebor, we must not forget our task at hand. We must make an alliance with the Dwarves of Khazad-dum before Erebor falls at the hands of the evil Men of the East. The Elves have left these shores, and Men of Gondor do not respect the old alliances, wishing to forget the days of old," said Dain, his eyes drifting unto the clear waters of Kheled-zigil. His heart thought only of his people, of the kingdom that he had inherited from his father, and the father before him, and so on.

Slowly they descended into a small craft floating in the pool, rocking gently in a non-existent breeze. Its hull was made of wood and was squarelike in shape, much unlike the design of the Elves of ages past. Inside lay two oars, squarelike in fashion, and Dain began to paddle, enjoying the feel of the soft splash of water clash against his armor. This pool was large indeed, and it would take a few hours to reach their goal, the hidden Dwarf-city of Khazad-narag. The air had gone cold, stetching its icy fingers towards the boat, clutching the Dwarves in its icy grasp.

"Milord, it grows cold upon this fair pool, but I think it to be the wind from Zirak-zigil, it blows hard and chills me to the roots of my beard. Hold me, for I desire your warmth!" Kilease commanded, and curled up against Dain's chest, feeling his beard scratch her rough face. Alas! it was moments like this that Kilease wished herself to be in the warmth of Erebor's treasury, weaving gold between her fingers and bending them into creations of her own.

The water rippled smoothly against the ship's sides, the torch guiding them through the otherwise impenetrable darkness. Pinnacles of rock and mineral loomed overhead, casting shadows of terror and closing in on the Dwarves from overhead. Dain felt like he was in the forests of Fangorn, the air was thick and overcast, yet he felt secure and comfortable, as were the hearts of Dwarves in the deep places of the earth. Wishing to see more of the cavern, Dain removed the torch from its holder, and held it aloft in the musty air. The radiance of the torch excitedly leapt off of every spike of rock and every drop of water it made contact with, and Dain and Kilease gazed in awe of the beauty of the deepest place in Khazad-dum. The stalagmites were of obsidian, blacker than night, and about them were strains of mithril, swirling into each individual pinnacle. The enitre cavern and pool was aflame with the white ambience of the mithril, and the water glowed with an aura of silver upon the walls of the cave. But in the center of it all was an island of stone and sapphire, towering into the ceiling of the cavern and branching outwards in a network of chambers and passages. It's archways were of gold, and its piers of copperish wood. Torch-light of red and gold could be seen from the openings in the great castle, and three boats of the same kind as Dain's poured forth from the stronghold to greet the travellers.

Speech could not describe the beauty of the Dwarf-realm of Khazad-narag, hidden within the confines of the darkness of Khazad-dum. A tear of pearl it seemed fell from Kilease's eye, such was the beauty of this place of marvel and craft. And Dain looked into the eyes of his beloved, and she into his, and they embraced.

[Rasec]

It was a cold night. The winter breeze blew from the west. Rasec and his companion Arahéin were sailing to the Nowhere City on the sea of Rhûn. The very sky above them was dark blue, and the stars were glittering brighter than any other day. A veil of mists could be seen floating over the water. The two Elves could not even see what was about them.

- When do you think we will arrive, my lord? - Arahéin asked Rasec. - I much desire to rest. And my arms are not on a good condition.
- We shall not reach the borders of the City before mid-day - Rasec answered. - And I fear we are getting lost.
- Do not say that, please - said Arahéin. - I thought we were almost arriving.
- Do not count on that - said Rasec roughly. - And keep paddling, Arahéin!

He obeyed immediately. Rasec was not always rude, but he was tense and tired. The cold weather was irritating him, and he could no longer bear it.

- The longer we paddle the sooner we arrive - said Rasec suddenly. - Therefore, we shall not stop travelling this night, so we can reach the Nowhere City at dawn.
- That is fine, my lord - said Arahéin. - I will not stop paddling again.

Rasec smiled at Arahéin, for he realized how rude he had been lately. The other Elf smiled back at him, and both of them felt better. Arahéin was slimmer and younger than Rasec, though not shorter. His hair was long and dark, and his eyes were grey. Rasec was fairer, having brown-golden hair and blue eyes.

Arahéin looked at the Moon and remembered of a song he learnt when he was a child. Then he began to sing it softly in a low voice. It said about the glow of the Moon and the stars, and about the darkness of the night, and how it all ended with the rising of the Sun, illuminating the Earth with its splendid light.

When Arahéin finished singing, some of the mists about them seemed to vanish, and the way became clearer, making them arrive earlier than they expected. Rasec and his companion sighed, and they were both relieved.

[¤-Elessar-¤]

Come now, initiates of the HI, where are your posts? I shall create a new topic.

You are left alone, with few comrades, to help a city, whose megre defenses are already rallied, fight off a great enimy. You are in charge of the defense of the city, and it must not be overtaken. (you choose everything, what kind of city, where it is, what kind of enimy, where he/she/it is)

[Goldberry344]

Goldberry looked behind her, at the ragged, seasoned warriors stationed behind her and at her command. They were all men, most over the age of 45. Goldberry walked in front of the first row of warrors, her helm under her right arm, her long, dark hair waving behind her in the breeze.

Goldberry straightened her spine when she reached the center of the rows. Looking down the sparce ranks she grimaced, and yelled her orders, "Look lively! We may be few, but we shall not let them see our numbers! I have informed their leaders that 5 thousand men will be here to meet their attack, though your numbers hardly reach 10 thousand. Their leaders are not fools, however and will be expecting at least 7 thousand men. You will place four feet between you and your neighbor, and you will walk another four feet behind the line in front of you. With proper spacing you may look as numerous as 20 or 30 thousand! Look sharp, spare all the lives you can. These are not orcs, they are men, and they are under a dictator, forced to fight. They will be useful for information and barter. Be on your guard!"

At the conclusion of her speach, a cheer rose from the men. Goldbery smiled, warmed by their response. When she had arrived in this small Rohan village a month ago all she had recieved were cat calls and dirty looks. Now they respected her and gave her the honour she deserved as their leader.

As Goldberry turned her back on her army, inspecting the progress of her enemy, an arrow came flying through her army and lodged itself in her left shoulder. Her most faithful guard caught her as she fell to her knees. Swiftly he carried her to his horse as the entire army chased them on foot. The guard swung Goldberry and himself onto his horse and rode as far from the village as he could, with the rebel army trailing them on foot.

The sound of cheers rose from the army as they gave up the chase, and the guard stopped his horse and thought of where their destination should be. "I told you not to trust them, m'lady," he scolded as turned his horse towards Edoras, "At least you didn't give them horses."

[Mablung]

Sarin followed a large congregation of various races with his head down in a meditative state. None of the people carried weapons of any kind, and with their clothing they could be mistaken for beggars. All of them were monks from the nearby monastery, and the village they were currently heading too had requested their help in fighting off a group of invaders. At the head of the congregation a very old tall man named Hakil stood wearing a robe that did not look tattered setting him apart from the rest. All in all about 200 monks descended silently into the fearful village.

The enemy they were facing were a rogue group of wild men from Dunland. A plague had ravished the crops creating a food shortage. Most of the tribes simply found alternative means of getting food through trade. This group of 400 or so had come southwards instead. They were raiding villages wherever they could, and as told by the rumors they had turned to cannibalism. This village had been raided three times already, but the meager defenses had managed to hold amazingly enough after each attack. One more time though, and the village would be utterly destroyed. Once all the monks were inside the village Hakil called Sarin to him. Looking as a grandfather would upon a child he placed a hand on Sarin's shoulder and said "My child, you have traveled the world more than any of us here. We chose the way of the religious man, and you chose the way of the protector. Set the defenses you are the most qualified, and you will be the savior of these peoples."

Sarin clasped his hand over Hakil's arm "I will not let you down." He then went outside and surveyed the defenses. All that was left was a wall surround the village. He set several monks to go around the village and gather all the pots they could find. Once that was done they began to brew a very hot sticky substance from grasses and roots they found around the village. Just as they were setting the pots upon the walkways all around the village a loud war cry was heard. The hills were suddenly swarming with the Northerners who were armed with only simple yet very effective clubs. Sarin quickly set groups of monks at regular intervals along the wall with a larger group by the gate. The wild men broke upon the walls making the earth below look like a living mass of flesh. Sarin then signaled the monks on the wall to drop the substance in the pots. The great amounts rolled over the Northrons like a wave burning many of them, and immobilizing them. A great host began pounding at the gates though, and with a great pound broke through the monks unable to hold them back.

The men of Dunland came into the village quickly and were locked in combat with the monks. They searched for the villagers, but luckily they had been earlier stowed in the town hall where the greatest number of Monks were concentrated. Sarin saw one large Dunlender with a club and blood painted on his face release a guttural yell and charge him. The brute smashed downwards with the club as a response Sarin pivoted on his right foot to avoid then he brought his left foot back down upon it and pivoted on that one snapping his right leg up into kicking position. Before the barbarian could shake him off he aimed his foot at it's throat and rocketed it out crushing the throat and spine of his attacker. He watched in horror as a human was overwhelmed and the attackers ate him alive. In a furry Sarin picked up the club of his fallen foe, and ran towards the group of five. He leapt onto the back of one that was feasting on the former monk's arm. Using the club he smashed it downwards shattering the spine. Then wielding it as a staff he spun around bashing it with tremendous force into the head of each one of the cannibals in turn. The monks were fighting off the Northrons very well, but still more were coming.

Upon the head of the next wave was an extremely large chieftain adorned in armor with a grand headdress and armor made from the bones of what looked to be humans. Deciding this was their leader Sarin scrambled up onto the wall. Running carefully and placing his foot in between the sharpened sticks rather than on top he ran around to the gate. Doing a flip off the last bastion he fell with his foot aimed precisely at the Chieftain's head. Just before he impacted he threw his foot up then back down landing his foot at the back of the neck. With one quick motion he grabbed under the muscular chin of the leader, and he used the motion to throw himself forward breaking the leader's neck without much trouble. The warriors heard the dying scream of their leader and began to run. Without a leader the Northrons would return to where they came and find another way to live. Or another leader and renew their attack. Exhausted from the battle Sarin sat down on the ground and sighed as the monks without any words began to bury their dead

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

The very earth was shaking with the fury of the Valar. Naught was left of the black fortress of Thangorodrim, and the Dark Lord had retreated unto his throne in the center of his wretched stronghold. His throne room was dark and stifling, and the few Balrogs that remained were quaking in fear for their very souls. Their flames had perished, and their wings drooped with much despair. There was no escape for Melkor this time, he and his forces could not take on the Valar in their fury, and his throne was as deep as his forces could delve. Nay, he would be taken now for sure, and he was unsure as to where his fate would lead him.

Melkor spoke and all listened to his voice, for it was like lightning striking the mountainside, and even the air in the dark chamber seemed to flee in terror as his vile voice raged on.

My faithful servants, we must wait here for our doom. You will all be slaughtered by the Valar in their wrath. We will be quenched from this Earth, but we will live on in the seeds of evil that we have sown for many a year. Rejoice in the fact that we have started the avalanche that will destroy the Valar in the end. Men, the beings that Illuvatar created to die before their times, shall be destroyed for they are weak and frail. Elves will soon follow, and the bearded folk will fall. Do not fear banishment, for our work will live on for all of eternity!

The Balrogs covered their faces, for his voice pained them and made them wish to be vanquished all the sooner. They did not heed his words, for they had lost all hope in their Lord and his ways of deceit and treachery. But they could not surrender, for that was not their way for they preferred to be dark and evil and resist the Valar. Melkor's lies had stained their souls with an imperishable blackness, forever staining them with sin and suffering.

The iron doors had began to quiver, and the dirt from the chamber began to fall and cover the remaining defenders at the throne. Heavy hooves were heard, and light poured into the chamber, forcing the Balrogs to shield their faces and buckle their knees. Loud waters were heard, and the stench of fire and wind tore apart Melkor's halls.

Do not blench, my servants of the Dark! We must wound them with whatever we have left!

He took up his black hammer, and his crown, two gems shining brightly from its surface. The Balrogs took up their firebrands, and whips of torment, and readied themselves for the final assault. The iron doors gave in, and in its place stood great figures of power, enraged with utter contempt for their fallen brother. Varda came, her eyes white and burning, and shed a terrible and unwavering light into the chamber; the Balrogs turned to ash the instant her powers touched them. Tulkas, and Ulmo, and Aule with his chains, broke in and siezed Melkor from his throne. With a swipe of the earth itself, Tulkas hewed the black feet of Melkor from their master, and they shriveled and were gone.

He had naught to do but succumb to the overwhelming power of the Valar and whimper for pardon.

[¤-Elessar-¤]

Elessar sat upon the foremost wall, looking outward upon the seige of Rhunwain (sorry, had to make up a name, I hope it means something near to city of Rhun). He stood there, his arm around the form of Arathin. He looked off into the distance, not seeing any sign of any army of his allies. The host of Mordor had been expected, but had failed to appear, for it had probably been held up on its journey to Rhunwain. The army had completed a circle around the city, even to the extent of taking up camps to the west, in the mountains. The armies of Arnor, Rohan, and Mordor would have to make an attempt to break the seige by force and speed, for their armies numbered much less than the Order of Pallando. I could see little, for my Palantir had been veiled with foul magic. Massive machines of war had been lined up along the frontal face of the city, for it was the most exposed, and lay in front of a huge plain. The plain had been dug up, deep trenches where vile projectiles were flung at the defenders at the wall. Pallando indeed seemed stuck, for he had not counted the men of the city able to withstand his first assault, and had made very few plans for the event of failure.
Elessar looked once more upon the forces, eyeing them with his sight, which seemed perticuarly sharp, even for the most full-blooded of Numenorians. He seemed lost in thought, concentrating ever upon the machines of war, those semmed indeed to be his doom. And even as he looked on the great machines lurched into motion, rolling onward to the certain doom of the city. Elessar was impassive, lost in his own mind, when all of a sudden he laughed, and wispered into the ear of Arathin. She smiled at the simplicity of the idea. He raised his hands into the air, and shouted words in the old speech, high elven Quenya. With that a great screeching sound was heard, and The machines stopped in their tracks. Elessar had used his power to make the bolts that held the great wooden monsters together grow soft and supple, like extremely hot metal. The softer metal had not the strenth to hold the massive weight of their extremeties, and great arms and huge pieces of armored wood fell to the ground. The machines were defeated (with very little use of Elessar's power), and Pallando would have to devise another way to gain the walls of the city.
-
Elessar now moved quickly, he placed a group of horsemen in the front of the city, in a small group of houses that lay just before the gate of the city, their horses filled the streets and stables (there were neer to 4 thousand of them). They were prepared to leave at a moments notice, but this was not known to Pallando, for his own spell that blocked the use of my Palantir blocked any attempt for him to use his own magic there
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Elessar heard horns blasting from the walls, the enimy was upon them once again. And then Elessar had had enough, his temper overwhelmed him and he summoned the captains of the city. He told them little of his plans, and even less of his intentions. Elessar turned to Arathin, and handed her a bow, and indeed it was the bow of Bregor, one of the finest bows that could still kill in the changed world. He whispered words of parting to her, and gave strict instructions to stay in the northernmost tower untill a time of dire need. He then went, calling upon his kinsman whom were hiding in the city. They totaled near to only a hundred. When the small company reached the gates of the city a great noise was about them, their foes were attempting to overwhelm the walls, by ladders and such, but the defenders of the city were too well aimed and skilled in the tactics of seige warfare, and the assault was beginnning to faulter, but Elessar knew that their enormous numbers would prevail. He and his company came up under the gate, and Elessar instructed the captains of the levy he had made to go into the city, and set up a ring about the great towers of the city, they left without questioning his orders. Elessar nodded to a man at his right, his brother. He threw a great latch, and the floodgates parted. The enimy saw a weakness in the wall of the enimy, and swarmed to it. Elessar and the stout hearted Dunadan of the north flew into action. No more than two hundred people could fill the entryway of the gate, and the peons that had been sent to fail the wall burst into the open space, the Dunadan made quick work of their enimies, but found that for every one they killed five would replace him. They fought on unfaultered, though. Elessar stood in the back of the brawl, watching it. He then drew from a overturned cart two gleaming shards of steel. One was Durist, brought to him by his brother, and the other was Aranruth. He dove into the frey like a wild beast, lost in the passion of the fight, and none of the Easterlings who saw the fire in his eyes in that hour lived to tell of it. The pressure on the walls was beginning to lessen, as they learned that a breach could be made by slaying a handfull of men at the opened gate. They would then turn from what seemed near certain death at the walls to what seemed easy fighing in the gate...it was not so. Hours passed, and the Dunadan began to be replaced by the strongest of the defenders of the city, as to give them rest from the frey. Elessar fought on, as though possesed by a demon. Blood was flowing in a continuous stream from the gate of the city, and was beggining to add a red hue to the great lake. As the fighting wore on, and more and more hours began to pass, even the pressure at the gate faultered, and they finnaly withdrew yet again. They flew back to their camp, which was near to a mile outside of the city. They searched for Elessar, and his body was not among the dead, wounded, or alive. (of which the dead were numbered near to five thousands for Palando (most of which were peasant fighters, and this also included those whom had died at the walls), half of the Dunadan (including Elessar's brother, who was acting mayor of Himring), and two thousand of the Rhunrim)
He was not with them, he had lost himself in the battle, and had persued the fleeing easterlings. He fought for near to another half an hour, most of which was fought in the actual camp. There he found himself in an open space, and he looked around, and the easterlings had formed a ring about him, and they carried no weapons. Elessar looked about in confusion, for surely they did not wish to die without a fight. Then he spied a rider, who was in the ring with him, he wore a great dark-blue cloak that covered all of his body, and a faint glow came from the eyes of the Istari. Elessar rose to his feet, and he had not even known that he had fell to his knees, he was bleeding from many wounds: an arrow in his left shoulder, a huge gash on the right side of his face, a broken sword in his thigh, and many more lesser wounds. He cast his head up, laughing at the failing sun. He stared into the glowing embers that smouldered under the blue cloak. Elessar's body was beaten and bruised, but his voice rang clean and clear, and sounded vary elven. "Pallando, tagalong of Alatar, we meet at long last. Perhaps you are wisened in the great wars of old?" Then Pallando muttered something, barely audiable. "Frail mortal, you dare to challenge a Maiar? You are but a commoner in a race of fools" Elessar laughed again, the laugher of the insanity of battle. "You cannot call me commoner, for my war cry is thus Lacho calad! Drego morn!" And then a fould sound came from the throat of Pallando. "Westerner! Slave of Olorin! Meet thy doom!" And with that Pallando drew a great bow, and knocked an even greater arrow to it. He drew back, but was quick to cry out in pain, for a dart had smote him in the shoulder, and Elessar heard the warcry of Arathin from the distance. "The people of the west are here in number," cried Elessar aloud. "And the east could never nor will never measure up to our glory" And with this Pallando screamed, a sound witch would rival that of a ringwraith, and drew his sword at Elessar, Elessar ran at him but was stricken down with foul magic. He lay there on the ground, motionless, for a few seconds, but in his mind they were hours. There he saw his white jewel fall to the ground, and he remembered only vaugly hearing Pallando's great boots pounding away the distance between the two. And he remembered not telling his arm to reach for a small, ordinate dagger at his side, and throwing it at the stone. But all after that was crystal clear, the stone burst into thousands of peices, and a great howl was heard. The men of the east fled westward in terror. In a matter of minutes only a beleagured Pallado remained, save Elessar who lay on the ground, and Arathin who lept to his side, he sat her down beside him, and rose to his feet.
"Pallando. You are wise among the wise of middle earth, but even they underestimated the power that I always kept in my hands reach. For behold," and then the great cloud of white smoke that had settled over the hill now gathered there, between them both, and from it emerged a huge being, a spirit of white fire. "Ainar, greatest of all of the spirits of fire is reborn, and to him you shall fall." And then Pallando shed his cloak, and he was in the most power that he could call, and he was tall and terrible. But Ainar was taller still, and they battled as gods. But in the end weariness set upon Pallando, and he sank to one knee, and then Ainar took his staff, and broke it with one quick swing of his axe, and that very swing sent Pallando to the halls of Manwe, to be judged by Aule, his master. Elessar shouted a word in high elven, and The form of Ainar turned to a mist, and swirled about a single point on the ground, where afterwards was left a small white stone. This Elessar picked up, and also the small dagger off of the ground. And he wrapped his arm around Arathin's shoulder, and she helped him limp back to the city.
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