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VENTURES INTO THE REMOTE (RP)

"Oh shit," Daugo said in a low voice, his mouth agape. He had never thought about it. Immortality. Or the closest thing you could get to it in this damned world.

At times, he had pictured his death. This had happened during his father's funeral. He had imagined that his death would be serene, surrounded by friends and family; his children, his grandchildren, his wife... He was old, older than the Old Took, but he had had a good life, a comfortable, satisfyingly long life that was the dream of all reasonable hobbits.

And now he would have none of that. Now he was bound to the world, forever, unless he died a violent death or chose to surrender his powers. He knew he was too much of a coward to willingly face death, so he would either live forever or die a gruesome death. This prospect was... surprisingly terrifying. His sons would die, his grandchildren would die, his entire line might die, and still, he would live. Unless... unless he yielded his powers to one of his sons...

After a long silence in which he thought about all of this, he turned towards the silver-haired elf and asked him, "how do you deal with it? With... being immortal?"
 
Any trace of happiness dissapeared from Cardiloc's mouth, "What the hell happened?" He questioned himself, running ahead from Ha'zi towards the charred ruins.
 
Iver tried to ask Vlad and the trickster to shut up but all he could do is screech.
While the eagle might have tried to grab Marco, iver could only see him diving toward the group. He knew he can't out match the eagle in speed and camouflage was removed in the last
patch so he decided to try and surprise the eagle by using his wings to almost completely stop and let him pass.
 
"Hm," Ha'zi had been thinking to himself about what to ask Cardiloc next. He just wanted to know him and all he gave were these short answers. Is there something that would let him open up to Ha'zi?

"How about the largest animal you've ever hun-" He began to say to his companion, when the Dunlending suddenly ran in front of him. Startled, he looked to see what was so important ahead, and noticed a house, devastated. Card's family's house.

Oh.. no. Card will be destroyed. I can't let him handle this alone. At that, Ha'zi starts sprinting after Cardiloc, worried for the Dunlending.
 
Celeborn was taken off a bit, "I personally don't consider it much. You live. You make use of your time. Put your self into projects that would seem dauntingly impossible. Like buildings a city, making the greatest collection of literature, seeing Arda, venturing into the unknown. All manner of things. Somedays you could learn to be a chef and others be out hunting your own food. You could learn to wield all manner of weapons, climb the highest mountains, visit the deserts of Harad, see the Great Bridge of Osgiliath, enter the tower of Orthanc, fish in the Lake Neunial or the river Celduin, become a merchant and lead a guild, master sea craft and learn to sail, run in the wilds of Rhudaur and sail the Anduin from north to south, see the great Argonath, even build your own statues. Everything is in your hands. You can become whatever you want, be whoever you want to be, do whatever you want to do. You could own the world or watch as it turns and count the rises of the sun each morning whilst the dew leaks off the tips of evergreens. Your fate is yours, Master Burgins."

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The house was ash and both Cardiloc and Ha'zi found a collection of gravestones nearby. Cardiloc recognized the names written on it, the Dunlending tongue harsh and crude, was difficult to understand when written but Cardiloc knew those names. He had spoken them as a baby. His father's grave, both his brothers and his little sister. Four graves lined in a row.

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The eagle flew by Iver and slowly twisted around, cawing at him and facing him.
"Unhand those folk, Spy of the Enemy!" It squealed in the common tongue.

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Grimnir found that Durin's Axe was bigger and much lighter than his own, something was off with the metal, then he noticed it. Mithril...

Runes locked around the hilt and edges of the blade, all across its Mithril steel which was sharp to the touch and lighter than a feather. His own axe was dwarfed (ironic) in comparison to Durin's in almost every way.

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Ha'zi stood next to him, looking at the graves. He didn't understand the language, but he could tell that these were indeed his family. In a burial so far away from the others, it seems.

This must hurt so much for him. His entire journey, rallying these tribes, was just a way for him to hurry home to his family, before he would quite possibly never see them again. But, they'd been lied to. Ëonwë had lied to him, telling the Dunlending his family was alive, just like he did to Ha'zi. That his family was happy and well, alive. But no, they had their house burnt to a crisp and themselves killed in some way, buried right outside.

The boy turned to Cardiloc, and tried speaking what he thought would help the Dun- no, his friend- through this pain, "Card... I know how much losing family feels. I know the guilt, all the guilt and the pain that comes with it. The haunting thought that you.. you could have stopped it. But you didn't and the bad things happened. We can't change anything now, no matter how much we wish it. Knowing you, your family were probably great people. I hope the rest well in whatever heaven they are sent to."

He steps closer to Cardiloc and gives him a hug, muttering, "I will be with you, Card. I want to help you." He tightens the hug, and starts crying for his friend and his losses.
 
Grimnir took the legendary Axe of Durin the Deathless and put his own island-forged axe in the place where the Axe used to be. "Mithril.." he says with a tongue, sharper than the Elven language. He tries to read the runes and swing the axe around a couple of times, how much greater would it be than his own? If it's this light, what exactly stops him from his legendary skill now? He continues to handle the axe.

NC6VapD.gif
 
"He lied..." Was all that Cardiloc could say. He was still unable to calculate a response to the realization, that his parents were dead. Why had Eonwe lied??? He promised him his parents were alive, yet he had lied. Cardiloc sniffed, angrily wiping away some unfallen tears. "Eonwe fucking lied, I trusted him but he still lied." He snarled out, he turned to Ha'zi as he tried to comfort him. "What do you know about it?" His voice was dripping with spite. "Your family sold you into slavery, mine loved me, they cared for me. I spent every damn second on that island hoping to return home, to them. I lost almost two decades because of that timeless oblivion, I could've lived my life and died with them." He angrily stated to Ha'zi, pushing him away when he tried to hug him. He marched off his face enraged.
 
The commotion between Ha'zi and Cardiloc was met by the opening of a nearby door. One of the guest cabins and an old woman walked out, frail skin tanned in the sunlight.

"Who goes there?" She asked, loudly, looking out at the boys. "Ela, is that you?"

"Na, mama," Another voice interrupted her, a little girl with wild brown hair fluffed around and wearing rags rushed out to the old woman, holding her legs. "Two boys are standing at Pa's grave."

"Two boys? Ruffians, begone!" The old woman stated, making shooing motions with her hands. It seemed that she couldn't see them.

The old woman and little girl were both speaking in Dunlending and Cardiloc recognized the old woman. Was that his mother? She had aged horribly and her once dark hair had now turned grey, her skin was veiny and her face darker. He remembered her. She was both harsh and loving to him, but not cruel. She had disciplined him while Pa was away with the other elders when they were hunting, she had taught him, she had bathed him, she had carried him in her belly for nine months and given life to him. She was his world for a time until he grew up. She was his mother.

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The axe was light and gracefully cut through the air. It's runes spoke of great use. This axe had cleaved the skin of dragons, it was durable and fought the hordes of Morgoth, it sowed fear into the hearts of its enemy. Grimnir found himself infatuated with it.

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"Mother?" Cardiloc asked the woman who had raised him, his mouth agape. "I-It's me. Cardiloc..." He stated to her, unable to decide what to do.
 
Ha'zi stood there, stunned at Cardiloc's response. He couldn't speak. And he.. pushed him away. Saying he didn't know how it felt to have parents that loved him.

He was wrong. His prents... they loved him, right? They did, didn't they? ...Didn't they? Ha'zi remembered the beatings he went through with his dad and his mother's last words to him, now corrupted and distorted, "You... you did this to me, Ha'zi. You did this to our family. I.. I will never forgive you."  Ha'zi cried hot, stinging tears of anger and turned to Cardiloc, completely ignoring the woman that spoke, and shouted at the Dunlending, "YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT MY FAMILY. I was lied to, too, Card, get it in your thick skull. Ëonwë PROMISED I would see him, alive. I EVEN SAW HIM ON THAT FUCKING ISLAND, THEN HE DISAPPEARED. All I ever wanted was to leave, to get back to my family in Harad. But it seems you don't understand, so I guess I'll have to tell you. You... you and Dimitri and the others... are my family. But you aren't now. Goodbye, Cardiloc."

Ha'zi runs away from the cabin, from his friend, from his problems, anywhere instead of there.
 
"Eh, Cardil-" The woman murmured before she was rudely interrupted by Ha'zi's fit. After Ha'zi finished she spoke, "I do not know who you are but you have some nerve yelling at me, boy!" She yelled in the direction of them both.

"Mama, the boy who shouted is running away. It's the boy who called himself Cardiloc who is here." The little girl said, tugging the mother's leg.
"Cardiloc? My son? He is dead. Dead like his brothers and his father." The mother shushed the little girl.

"No, but, Mama, he said his name is Cardiloc, like the name of the brother you told me about."

"A boy is Cardiloc? Cardiloc who ran away two decades ago? Cardiloc who would be a grown man now? No, the boy is not my Cardiloc." She answered the child before turning to Cardiloc's direction, "Boy, what do you want? Why are you troubling an old woman?!" She demanded.

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It took Grimnir two days to reach Azanulbizar. He found the gates open and saw sunlight for the very first time in three days. He was quite starved as well from the journey and was dirtier and smellier than an orc. Would he venture out into the sunlight?

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Sigeric's eyes quickly turned to where the noise had originated from, as he stood up from the ground. He nocked an arrow to his longbow, and drew it back. The noise could have simply been caused by an animal, but Sigeric was not willing to leave that to chance. Who or what was the interloper? It could not have been an Elf: they would have moved silently. It occurred to him that the snap of the twig might have been a diversion. He quickly looked around in all directions, before moving his gaze back to its original position.
 
"Aye, now that's not something you see every day." The dwarf said while sitting next to a rejected-from-his family Gondorian and riding on the back of his friend who is in the form of a giant bat. He scooches forward a bit, up close to Iver's ears, "Alright lad, if you get us close enough to that bird, I can take him out with me crossbow. But, I only have 6 bolts, so we gotta be careful."
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As the boy walked away, anger in his mind, Ha'zi really thought of what he had said. Cardiloc was in grief... he's probably lashing out naturally, like Ha'zi himself did. After his mother's death, he had distanced himself from his father and only read. Hunting wasn't really an option, after the pain it caused to his home. And when Ilmarë told Ha'zi his father was really, truly dead, he acted selfishly.

He knew what he must do. Go back and apologize. But he was not in that kind of shape right now. He needed to calm down...

So, Ha'zi went to a clearing away from the house. He got in a comfortable sitting position and read.
 
Daugo thought for awhile after Celeborn's response. It might not be exactly comforting, but it was... exciting. He had never been told he could be anything he wanted. In fact, he had been told the exact opposite. "You'll never amount to anything, Daugo," his older brother would say. "You're nothing." Which in part had fueled his desire to be as many things as possible. There'd been two ways he could do this. He could've been an actor and join a theatre company, or he could've been a conman. In the end, the latter had proved much easier and much more profitable.

And now, he could actually do whatever he wanted. He had the time. Perhaps he did not have the resources, but that was easily mended. He knew both legal and illegal ways of amassing wealth well. He had only to deal with a few things before that, the most pressing being Morgoth.

"That is good advice. But... don't you get tired of seeing loved ones die? I mean, you have the advantage that most of your loved ones are likely elves, but surely you've grown fond of some mortals?"
 
"Mother, please; it's Card. I didn't run away I've been a slave for twenty years." Cardiloc explained to the woman, his voice shaking at the fact she didn't recognise him. "Can't you see it's me?" He pleaded with her. "
 
"Foolish child. My son is dead. Like his brothers." The woman said, plainly. Cardiloc realized her eyes weren't focused on him but in the distance and that's when he saw it. Her pupils. They stared into the mountains as if lost. Was she blind?

"Mama, he says he was a slave." The little girl said to her mother.

"Go back inside, Ela. It is not safe with those brutes around. Remember what they did to your father? To your brothers? To big Laika? You see their graves, no? This poser must be one of their devil-childs, here to haunt us. Begone, devil." The old woman stated, pushing the little girl inside and shutting the door.

Cardiloc was left alone. What would the boy do?

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Ha'zi found that the 'How to raise your Mumakil' was rather pleasing, yet, the hurt remained deep in his chest. The sorrow. The pain. Everything. From the moment his mother died, to the island, to Lesier, to Eonwe, to all those people, to the lies and the deception, to Ilmare's truth and to the fact that one of the only friends he had left in the world told him he was unloved.

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Sigeric saw darkness. The forest. And something else. Eyes. Eyes staring back at him through the shadows. Green eyes, sickly and dark. They were the height of children and more branches cracked. There were more. Behind him. All around him. Green eyes. Dark eyes. They were coming closer...

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"It's good to see you do not take immortality as a mere gift. It's a predicament. There are advantages and of course, disadvantages. Yes, I have had many a friend who has been man, dwarf or even," he turned to Daugo and smiled, "Hobbit." Before returning to his normal stride upon the horse.
"Yet, there are more benefits to being mortal than one would know. It is sorrowful to see friends pass but in a way, it is also natural. They live a life, fulfilled and satisfied, have children and move on, advancing through a lifetime rapidly. Always being busy. That is the life of men, of dwarves and of hobbits. Elves are slow, what men accomplish in a day is similar to what we accomplish in a century. That is the truth, though, most elves would say otherwise. Being immortal allows you to enjoy life at a slower rate, not to be hasty and worrisome but to relax. And even if friends pass with time, you are there to tutor their offspring, carry on their legacies and support their goals. Men are the favorite children of Illuvitar, and their fates are unknown after death. Perhaps, death in itself isn't such a bad notion? Everlasting peace without worry? Even an immortal worries. About love, about their children, about their future. Enjoy the benefits, Master Burgins, yet never forget that you have a choice. A choice in whether you choose to continue or to pass into whatever lies beyond the eternal void." Celeborn spoke, softly as they passed a township and moved south-east.

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