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VENTURES INTO THE REMOTE (RP)

"Welp i guess we will have to trsut you. So everyone grab your stuff and get ready to go. If you need your bones patched up tell me and ill help you out" Iver said
 
"Any objections?" Ilmare said, glancing at Sigeric. There was clear animosity between them and the divide between the Maiar and the survivors was at its height.
 
"So," says Daugo after a moment's thought. "This Valeenoar you're talking about is where we'll have to stay... Forever? I won't ever return to Bree?" His voice was downcast.
 
"I would rather go back to my home than this 'Paradise', too" Ha'zi protests. "I want to see my father again."
 
"Take us to the cove. But do not expect us to follow you blindly in the future. We must know all of your intentions concerning us." Sigeric did not expect Ilmare to actually give them the information that he knew she was withholding. He had heard the urgency in Eonwe's voice. Surely the issue could not be as trivial as their destination. He recalled the Maia's dying words: "Gaining the Powers of the Giants isn't for-" Obviously they were being deceived as to the group's purpose. Sigeric cursed the ill-fortune that had caused him to become a shifter, against his own will. He would not allow himself to be a puppet of these Maiar and Valar who refused to make their intentions clear. He had to convince the others...
 
"Yes." she says to Daugo then turned to Ha'zi, "Your loved ones, your father Ha'zi and your children, Daugo, shall be there with you. As well as your friends and family, dead or alive." Illmare stood up and gave Sigeric one more look. In her eyes, he could see pathos and something else, hidden behind a mask of grief but what it was he was unsure of.
"I will brief you on every action we take from here on out, then," she spoke to them as a group before turning to walk, unsheathing her Maiar blade and using it to cut through the thick vegetation around the melon patch, "Let's hurry before nightfall." she said disappearing into the jungle.

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((TIMESKIP))

They broke out of the jungle and into the cool air after nearly a day and a half. They had slept and camped on the way to the cove using what little supplies they had. Victas had cooked them some fried egg after they found a bird's nest. It was petty but enough to get them through the day. They reached the coast before noon the next day. The air was fresh with the salty taste of the sea integrated into it. Ahead of them was a cove, a large cave covering over the sea. Illmare led them from the front and Pyrus from the rear, towards the cave side. They entered from a tunnel at its rear and found the Guardian Shifter's home. It was a cabin inside the cave. A little house with one bed, some clothes, some food, hunting materials, fishing supplies and a library of books written in Adunaic. They all made a home inside the house with the exception of a few who chose the surrounding cave either out of annoyance at members of the group or due to sheer overcrowding. Sam explained to them the Battle of Aldamos and how brave Elodrin had been; how his brother Dean had died in the charge alongside the older Gondorian; how the Destroyer ravaged the city; how Illmare protected them from the lava flow; whilst Marco added the details of the valley battlefield: how Cardiloc had been brave and took down the Dwarf Giant once, fought the Destroyer and the Guardian; how Iver and Thoruk had bravely defeated the Destroyer with the support of Grimnir, how they had taken down the Elemental; the actions of Ha'zi and his pivotal role in defeating the enemy Giants; Sigeric's bravery and how he outsmarted the Guardian; and of course, how Eonwe had led the charge, fought the Dwarf, saved Sigeric's life and his ultimate death to the Guardian Giant. They mourned for the dead. Gave them proper sendoffs and pretentious, honorary burials on the beach for the 168 that had died.
 
The realization that he would never again see his homeland hit Daugo hard. No hobbit should die without at least saying a proper goodbye to the country that gave birth to them. Bree and Buckland... they were the Burgins' homes, and being removed from them so forcefully left Daugo with a sense of bitter nostalgia. He didn't care about the glory, about being written about and remembered. He doubted he even would be, in any case. He didn't think all that much of immortality; life has to get dull at some point, otherwise the Elves wouldn't set off for--oh... So that's where they sail to?

He had tried to con a Sindarin Elf that had been his way to the Grey Havens, at some point. It had gone surprisingly well, he remembered; the poor bastard truly believed that Daugo could read his mind as well as the future, and had ended up paying an absurd sum of coin to find out if his wife was cheating on him across the Sea. Daugo recalled well the unearthly, lost look in his gaze, and the almost immaterial feel to his clothes and movements. Would he turn that way after living for a few years in Valinor? Would his children even remember him?

"I don't like this," he says to Sigeric and Dimitri. "I don't like this one bit."
 
"Then it appears that we are in agreement." Sigeric responded, looking around to see who else was within earshot. The Dalish knight was browsing through the books in the cabin, hoping to find one in a language that he could understand. He was curious as to the identity of the previous Guardian Shifter, and he hoped that he could discover something here that help him understand who she had been. That voice that he had heard in the dream - had that been her? He glanced at the Hobbit, and continued in a low voice. "I have heard that you Halflings have longer lifespans than most, and often appear quite a bit younger than you are. I would presume that you have lived long enough and experienced enough to guess when someone is not being honest. These Maiar are manipulating us. All of our knowledge of their motives comes from what they have chosen to tell us. Or from the Trickster, if one can sort through his web of lies." Sigeric paused. "Here is my advice to you, Daugo Burgins. When the time comes to slay the Behemoth Giant, seek not its power. While you remain mortal, there may be a chance that the Maiar will allow you to travel back to Middle-Earth. They only need to take the inheritors to Valinor. Of course, I may not fulfill their wish myself..."
 
A bit bored, Ha'zi would spend his time casually looking around the Guardian's cabin. After grabbing a change of clothes, some hunting supplies, and a small portion of food, Ha'zi went to look at books in the library.
 
Daugo scoffs. "My friend, not for the life of me will I take that power for meself. II'm sorry you had no choice in the matter. Sadly, though, I have a bad feeling about this whole affair. I have a sinking feeling that I won't ever see my homeland again..."
 
Dimitri joined his comrades in the cabin, looking at its relatively spartan furnishings. “She spoke of living in paradise and being written in the legends of the Vanyar. I don't to live there, I don't want eternal glory. It would just be given to me without a second thought. All of it went unearned. I want to live in Middle-Earth, to struggle with my brothers and sisters in untamed, dark places. I want to carve for the men of the West a new place so that they may be safe. I want to earn glory.” Dimitri said. “But how can I live normally among men? How can I earn glory? I am immortal, I bear a curse. I live for 200 years, unchanged. Men will come to see me as a monster. To live for a thousand years and watch loved ones fade into nothingness… Why would men desire such a thing?” He stared blankly at the cold sea. It bashed away endlessly at shores all across the world, slowly wearing down all things till naught but dust and water remained. Much like time. But like the sea, time was not endless. Death could not be prevented forever. Immortality is merely an extension of life. Perhaps the voice had been correct, perhaps he was destined for greatness.

“If I am to bear this curse, I must make the best of it. We all must. If we leave, no, when we leave, I´m going to do this world some good. Perhaps the Old Folk could help us. We could learn to become mighty warriors and leaders, skilled at many. We could defend the smallfolk against evil or even lead the fight against it! This curse may be foul, but we can bend it to help others.” Dimitri whispered, his mind racing with possibilities. He thought of glorious plans, of overthrowing darkness and becoming the Champion of Men. He could be better than Beor, Tuor, perhaps even mighty Turin! His name could down in legends as the-

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp, booming voice, loud enough to make his head throb in pain. ‘Perhaps you think too far into the future, and need to temper your wild dreams with realism. You have to kill one more giant, possibly the strongest of them all. Then, you have to reach Middle-Earth. Who knows what might happen between now and then? You may die, you might be imprisoned with chance of escape. The Maia lied once, they could lie again. Think, boy, listen to the voice in your head.’ The rude interruption served as a guide for himself. He let the thought of immortality drive him to arrogance too quickly. But he knew that part of his thoughts were right, he could do some good with this curse. He wouldn't embrace it, but nor would he fear it.

"Stay strong, master hobbit. We may see some pipeweed yet."
 
Cardiloc knelt before Radaas grave, having buried the Hill man himself after hauling the corpse of his friend from the clearing. "I'm sorry Rad, that you couldn't return home to whatever family you had; perhaps you had a wife and children. If I ever find them I'll tell them you died a hero. Just like you promised me when I was dying." He promised the buried hill-man, wiping a tear from his eye as he rose.

"Hill-men gods, guide this man to whatever hall is in his afterlife." He muttered to his friends grave. "Wulf, I-." He began to say; before shaking his head. "Give me strength." The dunlending pleaded in a whisper before heading over to join Sigeric and Daugo in their conversation. "Halfling, I will help you get home if I must. I mislike the idea of heading to this land of 'Valinor'." He spoke to the pair in an undertone.
 
Iver took a cave for himself, and once again made it his new home. He used the cloth he had for making a bed he made a torch to cast him light and brought small pieces of wood to act as table and stool. He then remembered that he has that book from earlier and went out to find marco or sam to translate it for him
 
Daugo chuckles. "Pipeweed. I do my land dishonour! I had not thought about it. Be good to ask the angel lady whether Valeenoar has pipeweed..."
 
Illmare sat by the beach, the wind curling her raven hair as she stared out into the sky. Pyrus saw her sitting there, silent. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/DeathValley105/74.png" name="DeathValley105"]15756962[/user]

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Silesia moved over to them, "What're you talking about?" She asked Sigeric, specifically. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/Szucsclan/74.png" name="Szucsclan"]12519458[/user]

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Marco was living with Iver, he preferred the company of his friend over the crowded house. "I'm not good with reading stuff," Marco said, explaining how he was illiterate. "Sam should be able to read it, though." [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/assassiniv/74.png" name="assassiniv"]14628767[/user]
 
"You find sam and start reading, i have Iver stuff to do. Ill be back soon though" He said and started looking for Illmare.
 
As Thoruk sits outside the cave entrance and looks down towards the beach, he starts to think about what Illmare said to them "Stay there forever, but with everyone you love?" "Would that mean I could even get dead people back to life?" he thinks a few minutes before shaking his head as he looks up into the sky, clear, without any clouds, although there had been so many fights and so many innocent had to suffer. "Aye Durin, you're right" he starts thinking like Durin himself had given him a signal "A son of Durin never flees from a fight, peace is a life we cannot afford till every enemy of Durins folk is defeated." He stands up, taking a last look towards the beach before heading into the cave with the intention to find Iver who had surely found a place to stay already.
 
Daugo nods slowly. "Good. We've seen what those folk can do--I warrant that what she did to those slavers was as much an act of protection as a warning. We can't openly oppose them," he says, then his gaze turns towards Sigeric. "Well, not all of us anyhow. I suggest we lie low for now, see who else is sympathetic to our cause, and wait for a chance. Maybe we'll be able to sail away from that Valeenor, even."
 
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