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VENTURES INTO THE REMOTE (RP)

Ha'zi sighed, grinning a bit. "I do see. They... fine, Marco. I guess I won't care about Miriel murdering Sigeric and Card then...." He mutters, turning away from the battle and closing his eyes. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/Captain_Aasim/74.png" name="Captain_Aasim"]12253360[/user]
 
”U wot, mate?” Marco asked, turning around and seeing the fight now. “Fack. Oh fack. Fack.” He spurred the horse around, riding away from Celeborn and the Gondorians, one of the men called out to him but he kept going, grabbing another two horses and riding towards the Destroyer Giant.

“You little fack, I know you pulled a fast one on me. Guess ya know I can’t abandon those two. Well...maybe Sigeric...no, I can’t leave him behind either.”

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Ha'zi smiled to himself secretly, happy at his little tactic. "Heh, alright. Let's go get them then." He looks forward at the battle, trying to spot where the two shifters may be. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/Captain_Aasim/74.png" name="Captain_Aasim"]12253360[/user]
 
Be'Lakor, incarnated with rage for the Champions of the Vala, sends forth the music of his Lidin-Rhuin, swinging it through some of them with full force. He has been summoned back to the world of the living once again, and this will be his reckoning.
 
They were still far from the fight but Ha’zi made out the the fallen body of the Armoured Giant, as well as the Hybrid whilst the Destroyer and Savage were dueling in the backdrop.

“Kid, listen,” Marco spoke up, “Do ya need someone to talk to?” The Gondorian asked.

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——

One of the Champions of Tulkas threw a five-bladed star at Be’Lakor, cutting through his whip in mid-air. Another fired an arrow at the Balrog but the arrow was intercepted by his brother’s axe, which blocked it, the fellow, Balrog, known as Lungorthin grunted and charged the archer swinging his axe in an arc.

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Oh geez, Card. They needed help. And where is Sig- "Hmm?" Ha'zi muttered, his thoughts interrupted again. He's touched by the Gondorian, but he had to not think of that right now. Maybe later, though.. "Oh.. um, I don't know. Probably, Marco. Probably." The boy leaves it at that, and continues to looks around, desparately, for Sigeric in the cluster of Giants.
 
But Marco continued, “I know you and that Gonthot were sleepin’ tagether. Your excuse for it is none of ma bidness but bro, how did you not see her becoming a super hot thottie giant?”

Next to Cardiloc, there was a blue crystal shard with a small encased man inside it. Ha’zi barely made it out but did notice it.

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He turns back to Marco, anger flickering in his eyes. "First off, why would I think a girl I just met was some mass-murdering creature of Morgoth in the first place, Marco? Second, why would I even care to notice? I loved Miriel. I trusted her and I thought I knew everything about her. I didn't think to ask the one girl who actually cared about me in my entire miserable existence, "Oh, hey, are you one of us monstrous Giants?" for good reason!" Ha'zi stops his rant, trying to calm down. "I- Sorry about this, Marco. I just don't know how to feel anymore after all this shit."
 
Cardiloc began to move Sigerics crystal to a safe distance. Miriel and that bastard could hold off the destroyer. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/Captain_Aasim/74.png" name="Captain_Aasim"]12253360[/user]
 
”’Ey, man, it’s chill. ‘Ere,” Marco pulled out a bottle of brandy and handed it to the kid, “Whenever people die or shit gets real, I drink this. I’ve had most of it now but there’s a bit left. You gotta chill out, bro, like, chill, ya know? Fack Miriel and fack Mordor and fack all of ‘em thots. Hoes before-I mean bros before hoes. Amen, to that, brother.” Marco took a jug of the brandy and shoved it onto Ha’zi.

They were within fifty meters of the the fight when Cardiloc rolled up a huge crystal towards them. Sigeric was in it. After the entire ordeal he should’ve been concussed and at the very least vomiting his guts out from all the shaking and spinning and dragon-insides.

Meanwhile in the background, the Berethor started to get back up but Osman grabbed him, picked him up with both hands, stood and hurled him at the Hybrid Giant.

”Hold this one for me!”

The Armoured Giant came crashing down, squashing Cardiloc underneath him and landed with a crash that sent rocks hurtling up. Sigeric’s shard rolled and smashed into Marco’s horse, along with the other horses, sending them scurrying in a panic. Ha’zi fell off and injured his knee on the grassy ground while Marco was crushed by Sigeric’s shard....

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Cardiloc grumbled as the destroyer threw the armoured giant on him, “Get off me!” He roared to the armoured giant. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/Captain_Aasim/74.png" name="Captain_Aasim"]12253360[/user]
 
Ha'zi smiled, tears forming a bit. "Thanks, Marco. You're a real frien-" CRASH He was interrupted by Sigeric's shard coming down, and he fell down on to the ground in pain. Groaning, Ha'zi looked around him. What.. what happened? Wait... oh no, oh fucking no. Marco? MARCO? "MARCO!" Ha'zi screamed, and scooted himself painfully, using his awkward stumps and legs, pain blaring throughout, towards the shard. No, this wasn't happening. Is he... was he? No, no, no. Marco... Crying, Ha'zi looked forward at the shard, trying desperately to see if there was anything left of his Gondorian friend.
 
Sigeric repeatedly and unrelentingly had the breath knocked out of him as his crystal was flung about and used as a weapon by the two giants locked in a vicious struggle. The chaotic movement abated for a moment, as the crystal was lodged in Dragon-Cardiloc's throat. Sigeric saw the amber glow of the inferno churning in the beast's gut. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, so to speak, though his crystal would likely act as the frying pan in this scenario. As the crystal was vomited out onto the body of the Armoured Giant, Sigeric himself felt the urge to vomit, though luckily he had not eaten since they had arrived in Mordor. Coming to his senses, the Dalishman prepared to open the crystal, only to be picked up once again by the Hybrid. Bloody hell, did he really have to go through this again? Shouting vainly at the Dragon to set him down, he was interrupted by yet another violent impact, his crystal rolling across the ground. He saw a streak of crimson splatter across the translucent surface, though whose it was he could not tell. He willed the surface of the crystal to open, falling out onto the ground.
 
The Armoured struggled but slowly stood up.

In the background, the Destroyer punched the Savage in the groin, then lifted her up by the leg. She slashed her broken bone-arm across his chest but it mattered little as he flung her through the air, smashing her into the Obsidian Castle.

Berethor turned around and grunted, raised his fists and roared at the Destroyer.

”Want some?”

Osman asked, haughtily laughing at his victory over not one, not two, not three, but four Karoltai. The Destroyer’s body was badly damaged, his jaw broken, his chest sliced multiple times, his rib cage broken but he was still fighting.

The Armoured glanced down with the only eye it had left and nodded at the dragon.

Ha’zi saw Marco. The Gondorian was laid out on the floor, his horse dead next to him. His nose was broken, his legs squashed into mash and he weakly lifted his hand up towards Ha’zi muttering something. Ha’zi could hear it as he approached...

“-bad trip, bro....bad trip...-“

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Ha'zi laughed weakly and still crawled forward towards Marco. "Marco... don't worry, I'll help you.. I-I'll get you out of here..." He croaked out, sobbing. The boy reached out with his dumb stumps, trying desperately to grab a hold of his friend's hand and then pull him out. "Marco... you can't die here, you won't... stay strong, p-please." He said, badly attempting to calm down his squashed friend.
 
”...kid, hand me the bottle...” Marco asked, his head dropping back on the ground.

Sigeric fell out of the shard and onto hard ground. His bearings returned to him and he saw Ha’zi up ahead, as well as a dead horse and...oh Eru...

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"I.. Marco.. a-alright.." Ha'zi turned his head, and noticed the bottle o' brandy nearby, suprisingly undamaged. "I-I'll get it f-for you, Marco. B-but... please.. hold on.." Grunting, he keeps pulling Marco's hand with his stumps while he simultaneously moves his leg with the non-injured knee, moving the bottle closer to the two of them. Ha'zi kept staring at Marco, pleading with him. "I'm sorry, Marco.. I-I'm fucking sorry for this..." He sobbed further, his chest hurting from them. "I won't let you die here... just like Lesier... I w-won't... p-please Marco... keep moving, p-please.."
 
”...bro, ma legs....I’m as good as dead....” Marco moaned trying to move them, his knees slightly shifted but everything underneath that was mash. Blood and bone, crushed. He would not survive this.

Marco slowly moved his hand over to the Bottle o’ Brandy, raised it and brought it to his mouth, “...Ha’zi, bro, could you...” he asked, motioning to the cap.
 
Ha'zi nodded, too in grief to respond then, and shifted the bottle closer to his own mouth, and bit off the cap, spitting it out nearby. He then scooted back to Marco, trembling. "I... here you go, M-Marco.. i'm s-sorry I did this s-shit to you... i'm s-sorry."
 
”....nah, bruh, at least I’ll die drunk...” Marco raised the bottle and nothing fell. He shook it a bit and a sliver of brandy dropped, hitting his cheek. The bottle held no contents. It was empty. Just like his chances of survival.

“....bad trip, bro....” Marco cried, almost hysterically, at the irony and full recognition of his own death. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to go back to his mother. To his home. To see what happened to his father. To visit Sam and Silesia. To pay his respects to Dean and Elodrin. He wanted to travel the rest of Gondor while the world was at peace. He shut his eyes and slowly whimpered, a coward. He died a coward. Doing nothing of meaningful value. Being nothing. He wasn’t special like his mother said. He wasn’t chosen like Thoruk. He didn’t inherit powers or a title or wealth. He was a gutter rat. A piss poor drunk. He was nothing.

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