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VENTURES INTO THE REMOTE (RP)

Thoruk seemed to be mostly ignored by Raddis and Arandil. This was spiraling out of control and no matter how much diplomacy he employed nothing seemed to work.

"Watcha sayin' mon-ya callin' me a liarrr? Ey boi? A liar is it?" Raddis pushed Arandil.

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Hering watched through the murk of the battlefield as the eagle took off after the men with Glorfindel riding it. There were bodies everywhere and although they had taken down the armoured, it had cost them.

"We're almost there Ber. He shou-" Tytus paused as he heard the air sway behind him. He turned and viewed the eagle flying over the giantized man. He coughed, shuffled along faster until they reached the edge of Minas Tirith's iconic colossal rock and glanced down. "Go, Ber. I'll take care of the bird." He said, placing a hand on his comrade and with great surprise on Berethor's face, pushed him.

Cardiloc and Glorfindel were coming upon the two shifters when the tides seemed to have swayed. The screaming shifter pushed the armoured shifter off of the rock.


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Dimitri grimaced. He'd endured far worse pains in life for his Lord, but this was still one he'd rather not have experienced. Gasping and groaning, the Dwarf Giant hauled itself up, being ever vigilant of movement at the corner of its vision.
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Ha'zi glanced back at the hobbit for a moment. Here they were, going back to Minas Tirith, with one of the two Giants that could burst into flames upon their towering transformation. Just great, he thought numbly. Any day now that drea- no, that nightmare could become reality, whether it be with Marco or Daugo, the result would be the same. Fire. Destruction. Indefinite carnage. And that could very well be today as they brought one of the Giants that could fulfill that very apocalyptic deed. All he could do was hope that it wouldn't happen with Daugo… and that it hadn’t already happened with Marco.

He finally shied his eyes away from the Behemoth. Hope… hope was a fickle thing. But it was what remained, what they could depend on in these ghastly times…. Ha'zi paused his thoughts as he registered what Vardimir had said about maintaining energy. It… it would be a good idea to try and reserve some, in case something were to occur. Figuring that the best way and most reasonable thing to do as they wait to arrive would be to get some much needed post-training rest, the Haradrim tries to find a comfortable spot on the ship for the remainder of the voyage, desperately wishing at the corners of his conscious to get some sort of update from a certain duo.
 
"I am not here to chat with brutes, or fight. Now can we all be civilized about this matter?" Arandil shakes his head. "So uncivilised"
 
“Shit.” Cardiloc thought, he then divebombed past Tytus towards Berethor, hoping to grab him mid air with his talons.
 
"Yyyyeah," said the hobbit, noticing Ha'zi's lingering look. "That makes perfect sense. I'll hold down the fort, watch your back and whatnot... 'Cause I'm of no use at the moment, apart from my dazzling charm and clever witticisms."
 
At the mention of Daugo, an image flashed through Sigeric's mind. One from his vision. The Hobbit burning. He grimaced, and nodded to the Captain. "If he is to stay behind, we must make sure that he is well protected. This attack could be a diversion by the Enemy to separate us."
 
Vardamir smiled at the jape. "Interesting notion, Sigeric." He whistled to one of the men, "Galador! I want you and Ramdir to remain in Osgiliath with Burgins. Take him to Admiral Belkazar until we return. If things go south, I want you to hold out in the city. Understood?"

"Aye, Captain." The reply came from the swan knight turned ranger.

The next few hours passed in relative silence before buzzing returned when Osgiliath was sighted. Bells toiled and the city seemed unharmed and rather ordinary. The ship swerved gently to the eastern dock and they disembarked there. The Karoltai were led through the city, seeing much of the east had been renewed into a rather glorious settlement. It nearly matched Dale in its beauty and the markets were rather full. It took a while before they reached the main road and were met by the garrison. After some altercation with the officer-in-charge, horses were provided and the troop of about fifty men set out for Minas Tirith.

Sigeric and Ha'zi could not see anything major. The city seemed fine. Seemed.

Meanwhile, Daugo was escorted by the two rangers. Sargeant Galador and corporal Ramdir. They led him through the city and he saw some folks give him the usually uncomfortable glance followed by a quick dart of the eyes. They ascended the mighty bridge of Osgiliath that straddled the banks of the Anduin. It was quite a sight when they reached the mid-point and he was taken into what seemed to be a half-ruined dome. Soldiers littered the place and here they wore a notably different custom. Unlike the citadel guards of Minas Tirith and the black rangers of Cair Andros, these men bore the lapis lazuli blue standards and helms with feathers as blue as azure. Most of them carried pikes but some obtained swords. He was ushered through some hallways before coming to a ruined hall and taken to one of the rooms. The sergeant knocked once on the door.

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"Ooonseeva-wat? Ya takin' a sheeeet?" Raddis asked then coughed, "Hooooldooon," He coughed again then spat directly into Arandil's left eye. Saliva and phlegm slowly slid down his cheek. "Dere's ya ooonseeevalissed fo ya!" He shoved the Gondorian onto the ground.

No one made any move to stop Raddis. Equas and a few others were too focused on Iver threatening a screaming baby with a frying pan and the remainder seemed indifferent to Raddis' actions.

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A platoon of guards appeared and hoisted the injured away, taking Erchirion and Hering along with whoever was still breathing. Hering's vision blurred but he remained conscious and witnessed the preludes to the battle.

"GO AWAY!!!!" Tytus yelled and a shockwave blasted through the air as Cardiloc dived. He was knocked off-course, spun, and began to tumble before slamming into the base of the Citadel and sliding before coming to a stop at the crenellations. Glorfindel was thrown off and landed badly but managed to roll and followed up into a sprint as he went straight for Tytus.

The Screaming Shifter coughed up blood and saw the Slayer coming. He prepared to scream but choked and the Slayer rushed him.

"DIE!" Tytus commanded him, his eyes turning a bright white as he activated something deep within himself. Cardiloc, even in his daze felt a surge of electricity. He waited for the Slayer to stop, to double over, to transform into a mindless giant and collapse. But nothing happened.

"Not yet," Glorfindel said and threw his sword at Tytus once within range.

Tytus tried to scream but found himself lacking the breath and the sword sailed directly at him. He moved backwards. His feet went over the edge. And he fell. Glorfindel did not stop running. He unsheathed a dagger, the Maia blade he had taken from Eonwe, and stared over the edge. No sooner had he pulled his head back as a humungous serpent flew upwards, scales plastering the great spur of Minas Tirith.

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Sadly, the Dwarf Giant was blind. It had no vision. Nor much sense for that matter.

Dimitri felt his legs go slack. Something had cut through them. He heard movement from his rear, then his left flank. He was blind and couldn't feel below the knees. He was immobilized.

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Hering would blink, all this madness. To what end? Seeing Glorfindel and the eagle charging men choked him up, but as another giant, a flying snake appeared he found himself screaming "Run you idiots! This is a battle we cannot win!"
 
Cardiloc flew up, right at the accursed serpent, he had killed it once before he’d do it again, he vowed. Once he was close enough he’d bite at its scales.
 
Unlike the last time, Cardiloc was at the size disadvantage. His eagle's beak bit into the underbelly of the serpent's scales and the beast twisted around and fell backward. It dived through the air falling from the Citadel.

Glorfindel sighed as he swung around his grappling hook. The damned beasts were everywhere. And the eagle was attempting to fight that snake. It was nearly a suicide mission. That fact was predetermined further by those two. He caught a glimpse of the Armoured and Screamer Giant Shifters on its back. There was someone else with them. Another one? He let the hook fly and leaped off the Citadel going directly towards them like a missile.

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Sigeric's eyes scanned the horizon, further examining the distant city for any sign of fires or structural damage. Minas Tirith appeared as majestic as ever, its white stones shining under the radiance of the sun for which it was formerly named. He rode next to Ha'zi, addressing the young man. "At least it appears that this 'attack' was not caused by the Leviathan Giant." Sigeric wondered whether Marco had fully recovered, if at all. Or Eonwe, for that matter. The Dalishman hoped that they had. With any luck, he would be able to inform Eonwe of his vision. The Maia would be one of the few people outside of the other Karoltai to believe him. Of that he was certain.
 
Grimly he replied to Sigeric, "Yes, it appears that way. We still have a while to see, y'know."
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Shit, Dimitri thought. Fighting wasn't an option, along with waiting for regeneration. All that remained was flight, something that he would rather not prefer to perform while facing such an opponent. But it had to be done, and he still had some energy left for another shift. So, with much chagrin, he sought a speedy escape from the Dwarf's nape.
 
Pfft.

The nape of the neck for the Dwarf Giant shot open and Dimitri managed to clamber out just as the Dwarf took a tumble, falling leftwards.

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Glorfindel missed the Serpent but his hook caught onto its wing, tearing the sickly green flaps of skin. The beast began to slow its descent and his arms nearly broke under the sheer tension but he gripped on and steadied himself, slowly shimmying up the rope.

The Serpent twisted sideways and began to glide over the layers of Minas Tirith, flying northward. The beast was a ghastly green with stripes of cyan blue across its scaly body. Its wings were large, far larger than Iver's bat or his eagle, yet much more fragile. They were strips of skin against bone which allowed for flight. As it was gliding away Cardiloc spotted Glorfindel below its right wing, somehow tethered to the creature. What the hell? How had the elf...

Suddenly, something else drew his attention. Three figures on its rear, in what could only be a makeshift saddle. He saw the Screaming Shifter glaring back at him. The man had light brown hair and behind him was Berethor, the younger version anyway. He seemed to be holding the third man down. Wait...was that...

Marco!

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Upon reaching the gates of the Rammas Echor, they overheard the shouts of the outer-garrison soldiers.

"To the North! They went North!"

"What did?"

"The beasts with wings."

Vardamir looked back at his men, "Arcturus take ten men and find out what happened to the Citadel. Should we locate the fiends we shall pursue them. If you hear no word from us within the following day, you may take up command of the black rangers."

"Sir." The drillmaster reigned his horse in and rode off with his troop. The remaining fourty men looked to their Captain.

"Onwards!" He beckoned and they rode. As they did so, Vardamir looked over his shoulder at Sigeric and beckoned him forth.

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They had kidnapped Marco? Why would they? Joplin, the former Leviathan shifter, that little shit, he had died...? Suddenly Card thought back to the appearance of the destroyer, and that had definitely not been Grimner, as much as he had disliked that dwarf he knew the first shifter when he saw it. Perhaps they meant to do the same thing to Marco...? No, that couldn't be allowed to happen, he'd need to aim for the left wing, and bring it down so Glorfindel could get to Marco or the others. That'd work, the Dunlending decided, speeding up after the others and grabbing onto the left wing, yanking it down, though not too hard.
 
Beasts with wings? The only Karoltai with wings that Sigeric knew of were Iver and Cardiloc. Iver had traveled north months ago, and Cardiloc was still missing... Perhaps they were Drakes of Morgoth, or one of his other experiments. Did any of the prototype giants have wings? He couldn't remember. Sigeric spurred his horse forward, keeping pace with Vardamir.
 
Arandil would get up seemingly calm, he would clean his face.
"I am not here to fight. Can we not discuss this like simple people lad? I'd like to avoid any sort of violence."
 
Ha'zi was equally confused at this news. Some flying creature? Obviously... well, probably... something of Morgoth's based on the description and the previous, yet scarce info. What could he and the others possibly do now, though? Ride after it? Seemed a bit futile, but if that's what they'd have to do, then he'd do it. He started to ride again upon the Captain's orders, glancing sideways in the direction of Tirith as they went.
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Dimitri held on to the Giant, and waited until it had impacted the ground for him to jump off. As soon as he did so, he'd try and distance himself so that he could transform, keeping an eye out for Teli as he ran.
 
"The-" Galador began before being interrupted by a voice from beyond the door.

"You may approach,"

"Admiral." Ramdir opened the door.

Torchlight from the innermost room of Osgiliath's Dome illuminated Daugo's face. The hobbit could see a set of thrones, one half-buried in rubble and the other cleaned, dusted and refurbished with a table set in front of it and a man with hair as pure as the tops of the White Mountains seated with his legs crossed. A single hand stroked an equally white beard. He wore a uniform with stunning golden epaulets and a myriad of military awards embroidered over his left side. Over the table were a number of papers scribbled over in Westron and the faint symbols of ancient Andunaic were written in glossy embossments over the letterhead. The Admiral's eyes were a faint blue like the froth of the sea. They met Daugo's and with a slight incline of the head the man spoke.

"Welcome." His accent was rather unusual and came out in a honeyed drawl instead of the typical montone Daugo had come to expect from high ranking men in Gondor's forces.

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Unfortunately for Dimitri, as the Dwarf crashed he came face to face with Telimekhtar. Before being able to make a run for it, the Son of Tulkas threw a dagger into Dimitri's shoulder and pinned him to the decaying flesh of the Dwarf Giant, the steam singing his hairs.

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"If only the situation was different," Iver thought to himself as Thule wrapped her arms around him. "You horny maggot, she is seducing you and she is not the first one to do so. What are you? A Hazi?" Iver voice told Iver before a set of memories flashed in front of his eyes. He, screaming at Hazi for being a complete idiot and then Miriel transforming. The island, Illmare ordering them to tackle Pyrus and then releasing Morgoth.

But Miriel was getting away and reasoning with Thule might cost him Aranel. "This is the last time I'm doing this for you Beren, next time you will have to deal with your crazy mother" Iver told the toddler before carefully giving it to Thule. "This will probably cost me with my life," he told her and added "but now I got to go."

Thule left go of Iver and cradled the screaming child with soothing voices. Equas took a few steps towards Iver, each version of him acting in sync. Raddis gripped Arandil's tunic, "You do nawt no de wae."

"Ahem," A bearded man with dark brown hair strode through the crowd. "Now let's keep this civil, gents." He stared at Raddis. "Down boy." Then to the Equas, "You too." And At Iver then to Thoruk. "You're not going anywhere."

Raddis dropped Arandil and glared at the man. Equas turned around but instead of his copies following suit they merely remained still. Iver found an odd feeling coming over him. He no longer felt retarded. Thoruk too felt something though it was a rather unclear sensation.

"Now why don't we all just get along? Thule take the kid inside. Garath bring us some drinks. Yellena, get the chairs. Raddis bring a table or fuck off will ya? And Pen, go back to guarding. Everyone, stop starin' like a much of gosshawks and return to whatever the fuck ya were doin'." With that everyone slowly meandered away leaving only Equas, Iver, Thoruk, Arandil and the strange man. Raddis was slow to move and muttered something under his breath.

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Ha'zi noticed the top of Minas Tirith, by the edges of the Citadel there was a lot of commotion. Aside from that everything seemed rather normal. His mind was brought back to Marco and those visions. As well as Eonwe who was with their friend last he checked.

"Which ones can fly?" Vardamir asked Sigeric once he came up to speed.

They rode through the townships on their way up the Kings road.

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"-oi he's waking up-"

Erchirion's eyes opened slowly. His vision was groggy and he saw a group of blurry figures standing over him.

Hering was already awake. He had been for the past fifteen minutes and received food and drink. One man with a rather crooked nose was speaking yet he could hear little aside from the constant buzzing in his ears. He remembered this man. He hated him and respected him. It was his old drill sargeant, Arcturus. He was saying something to Erchirion.

"Oi, can you hear me?" Arcturus questioned Erchirion.

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"What the f-" Berethor gasped as Evenis lunged leftwards. Marco slid down and he had to catch him in order to avoid falling off. Behind him he heard Berethor cough. He turned around and saw the eagle was still following them. Morgoth damn it. Those bastards. When would they stop? "Tytus, blast his ass off!"

"I-I can't I need more time," Tytus hazily muttered back. "Just lemme," He coughed again and shouted at Cardiloc who had tipped the left wing and caused the Serpent to budge leftwards as it flew.
"LEAVE US ALONE!"

Cardiloc's eagle was deaf at this point and just saw the man shouting at him yet, he felt a shingle of electricity run through him and a voice entered his mind.
"Leave us alone!" It was the Screamer's. Something deep down in him felt compelled to listen but he saw Marco being pulled up by the Armoured Shifter. He couldn't allow for them to escape, especially not with Marco.

"I said-" Tytus began but heard mechanical shambling and turned. A groan escaped him as the Slayer hauled himself up onto the right wing of the Serpent. He had a rope tied around his left arm and a dagger in the other. Without so much as a word, he charged them. Tytus spat blood out of his mouth.

"STAND BACK!!" It was Berethor who spoke. "OR I KILL HIM!" He held a small knife to Marco's throat.

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