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VENTURES INTO THE REMOTE (RP)

Grimnir would enter moria
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Iver screeched, they needed to leave and go to dale and erebor before flying south to minas tirith. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/KingTraitor/74.png" name="KingTraitor"]13615485[/user]
 
Turning around as he heares Iver's screech he's not sure of what to think right now. His anger blockes his clear vision of what to do. Still, he has a picture infront of him, his father once told him he could get one of the greatest axe-throwers that their clan had ever seen and this is what Thoruk thinks of as he looks at his fathers axe. "Iver... Marco.. I'm sorry" he says, grabbing his fathers axe as the lightning flows through it and the torch in the other hand. "Iver.. could you fly us up again and search for the armoury? I need to get something..." he says. "I will revenge every last of them" he thinks, turning around on more time.
 
It was utter drivel. Deslan couldn't even read the messy handwritten and it looked completely unrecognizable. Had Butterbur gone mad?

[user avatar="https://assets-cloud.enjin.com/users/6427581/avatar/small.1500927951.jpeg" name="Riko son of Pdor son of Kmer"]6427581[/user]

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"Intriguing, yet, this is a simple explanation that you have seemed to miss, dear Pyrus." Morgoth said, raising the blade above Pyrus' head, "An error occurs when an accident is made. A mistake is when that error is not corrected. I can forgive errors but not mistakes. I want you to correct your error. To do that, you must kill Turin Tarambar and Eonwe. I will deal with Tulkas and as for the Children of Illuvitar and the Karoltai," he stabbed Gurthang into the ground, cracking it.

"I have my own plans for them." Then he reached down and plucked out the sword, placing it at his belt, a sheath forming before he backed up and spoke out to them all,

"Ainur. Brothers and sisters. We shall inherit Arda and Ea. We will take the mantle of the Kings. The first of the Valar to die shall be Tulkas. I promise you that. And with him shall fall their hope, their dreams, their power. They will all burn. And from their ashes, we shall build a better world. One where we can be fair and free. Pyrus, Azura, brothers and sisters, head to the eastern edges of the world, near the Door of Day. You shall find a prison, one holding my failed experiments during the War of Wrath. Release them and return them to me, unharmed and restrained. They will likely rebel. All of you go, I shall begin raising our missing brothers and sisters. Now go," Morgoth commanded them.

Around Pyrus the Maiar began to disappear. Azura grasped his hand and they both teleported to a far away land, their brothers and sisters flying through space and time with them. They landed on a stark island with a two buildings on it. A door. A huge, glowing golden door. The Door of Day. And next to it, a cage of Earth and stone and within around fifty or so sleeping humanoid bodies...

The Vala turned to Mt. Doom and placed his hands on the cracked Earth. He hummed and began to chant, "Alvari, Meniksis, Quentoslasi, Kendorath," and paused, "Arise, Mairon."

[user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/DeathValley105/74.png" name="DeathValley105"]15756962[/user]

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The flight was easy and the winds were cool on their backs. Cardiloc reached the hills of Dunlend and knew he had to land soon lest he be seen.

[user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/UnusualBrit/74.png" name="UnusualBrit"]12700073[/user] [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/DimitriP_13421/74.png" name="DimitriP_13421"]8861015[/user] [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/9842Kye/74.png" name="9842Kye"]16315828[/user]

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The horse trotted over to Sigeric and stood next to him, almost offering him a ride.

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The armoury of Gundabad was stockpiled with orcish sabers and looted dwarven weapons and crafts like crossbows, all were frozen to the floor or the walls, colder than ice.

[user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/KingTraitor/74.png" name="KingTraitor"]13615485[/user] [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/assassiniv/74.png" name="assassiniv"]14628767[/user]

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The cleft was small enough for Grimnir to enter. It was dark inside and he needed a torch to continue.

[user avatar="https://assets-cloud.enjin.com/users/16311516/avatar/small.1517585379.jpeg" name="Gundabad1"]16311516[/user]
 
Iver would wait for Thoruk and marco to resupply, he pointed on a crossbow and a bunch of bolts and screeched so one of the two will grab it for him. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/KingTraitor/74.png" name="KingTraitor"]13615485[/user]
 
Thoruk gets off Iver's back and searches for dwarfish axes and armour. If he finds axes or a piece of mithril armour he would use his lightning to carve it out of the ice. After that he would grab the crossbow Iver pointed at for him.
 
Cardiloc landed smoothly, and climbed out of the nape. He motioned for the others to follow him. "There..." He pointed on the horizon and they saw the capital of Dunland. "The capital of my folk, let us go there."
 
Pyrus would remain silent throughout Morgoths speech and the trip to the Doors. When they arrived he would conjure up the idea and shape of chains.
 
"Ok, wait up for a second." Ha'zi grabs his supplies and the food then climbs down. He grabs his spear, ready for any potential trouble, and follows Cardiloc.
 
Sigeric was surprised at the fact that the horse already had a saddle. Someone must have abandoned it. He climbed on, and rode east towards the Old Ford.
 
''Hey, Butter. Personal opinion, but you should practice your calligraphy. Unless deciphering your writing is part of the experience? I'm a little in the dark here.'' Deslan, having put down his ale, was scratching his head in confusion.
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Dimitri looked at his fingertips. Gold was rare in Forochel, and he still was in awe of nobles that rode into battle with full glided armor. But when it became part of him, it was like the days when he still had his arm. It didn't feel quite right. He stayed quiet for the rest of the evening, only talking once. "Back in Rivendell, I picked up quite a few weapons for us." Dimitri said. He gets out a few bundles and rolled them out on the ground. Before them was a number of excellent weapons, ranging from short swords to boar spears and bows and more, all Elven forged. "Take your pick." he quietly says, before returning to his post and reciting the 12 Mantras of Tulkas the Wrathful in his mind.

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Dunland had a bad reputation among the people of the Adorn. In the frequent raids against Rohan, defeated Wildling warbands would be driven towards the Valley, inevitably raiding the western edges of it. For Dimitri, his experiences with Dunland were limited to his first taste of real combat and his service with a Dunlending for a few months during his militia days. Coming to this land was like walking into a potentially hostile tavern, but the tavern is filled with wild bears, wolves, and half-insane men with axes and ale. "Let's get this over with." Dimitri groans. He takes his warhammer and his travelling clothes, though he has his chainmail hidden beneath it.
 
((Okay I'm gonna see if I prefer rping in past tense))
Daugo was shaken by Celeborn's brief account of the War of the Ring. A hobbit had risen to fame as a hero of the Free Peoples...? Of course, it had been a Baggins and not a Burgins. The Bagginses were vastly better accommodated than the Burginses, and if this Frodo was close to Bilbo, then one had to look no further. But the story still had its charm.

"You ask a lot," he said. "I'm a wretched coward, and no hero. Sure, I have immense power within me, but I'm afraid. I'm afraid to even tap into it... And Morgoth... I, Daugo, knew nothing about Morgoth except perhaps one or two childhood stories, but Andreth, whose memories I share... Andreth was scared to the death of him. I dunno if I can bring myself to face him."
 
Moria was dark and it took Grimnir days to journey through its winding passages and mazelike halls. He got lost a couple times, though, he wouldn't admit it to anyone. Eventually, he stumbled across the throne room of the King. There didn't seem to be a soul alive down here.

[user avatar="https://assets-cloud.enjin.com/users/16311516/avatar/small.1517585379.jpeg" name="Gundabad1"]16311516[/user]

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Thoruk found no mithril in this forsaken place. Only cold broken armor and corroded corrugated iron. There were some axes of steel that could be used and were of dwarven make, though, they were frozen cold to the touch. The crossbow bolts were the same. Marco grabbed some for Iver and tried to take a shield but it cracked upon touch from exposure to the elements.
"Let's leave this place." The Gondorian suggested to them both, shivering and hugging onto Iver's back.

[user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/KingTraitor/74.png" name="KingTraitor"]13615485[/user] [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/assassiniv/74.png" name="assassiniv"]14628767[/user]

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Ahead lay the Dunlending capital and after an hour of walking, the trio wandered into its unpaved dirty streets and ragged little hut-homes. It was pathetic compared to Bree. Rivendell was on another plane of existence. This...this could barely be called a town let alone a village. Many fur-skinned warriors looked out upon them and some women ran into their houses upon seeing strangers. One man spat in their direction when he saw Ha'zi and Dimitri. This place had changed a lot since Cardiloc had been there. The attitudes were the same, yet, long gone were the days of trade and sport. Now it seemed that everyone laxed. Where were the hunters? The riders? The spears and the shields? What of the tribal brotherhoods and the clansmen? Where has their brave warriors gone?

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Before allowing Sigeric to fully ride it down the foothills, Alfrid Kuntsworth III, tossed the Dalishman off with a fancy neigh, sending Sigeric into the dirt, again. Only after this did the horse yield to him and allow him to mount and ride him to the Old Ford. It would be two more days of fast travel on Kuntsworth before he reached the Old Ford and a surprise lay there for him.

[user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/Szucsclan/74.png" name="Szucsclan"]12519458[/user]

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"Aww, yar illiterate!" The man huffed and puffed, grabbing his book and hefting it back behind the bar counter, cheeks red with anger. Deslan's meal had been adequate and now the road awaited him. Unless he would pursue the Butterbur...

[user avatar="https://assets-cloud.enjin.com/users/6427581/avatar/small.1500927951.jpeg" name="Riko son of Pdor son of Kmer"]6427581[/user]

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"I shall not lie to you, Master Burgins. Morgoth is the most dangerous foe in Middle-Earth. The very air he breaths is inhospitable to even plantlife. He is our worst nightmare. Yet, it is our duty to fight him? Cowering in fear is nothing to be ashamed of. But it shall not help. If you seek glory, by all means, fight Morgoth. But if you seek survival, then you can run and hide as much as you want but in the end, he will find you and you will be alone when he comes for you. I would rather die fighting than wretched beast than shriveling up like an old crone and burning at the stake." Celeborn said, opening up to the Hobbit.

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Pyrus felt something but nothing happened. He wasn't powerful enough to conjure up chains? What more could he do?

Around him, a hundred and thirty-three of his brother and sister Maiar had begun to arm themselves, unsheating blades, spears, pikes, bows and all manner of weapons. Ahead of them was to be a battle. Pyrus saw twenty-five Ainur standing guard at the Door of Day and blocking their passage to the prison beneath it.

"What is this madness!?" One of them came forward into sight. These were the Guardians of the Gate. Maiar of each Valar selected and sent to defend the gates at all costs.
"Who brought about this rallied bunch?" The Captian of the Guardians demanded.

Pyrus felt Azura's hand on his, "Don't worry, this should be easy. We outnumber them six to one. Stay close to me, okay."

"I REPEAT! BY WHO'S COMMAND DO YE SHOW YOURSELVES?" The Captain shouted as an arrow hit his shoulder, then another, and as he got back up, another, and another, and another and another, until he was all but a porcupine, yet still he raised his mailed fist and spoke, "DEATH UNTO THE ENEMIES OF VALINOR!!" And with a last cry, stood and rushed forward as a hail of arrows took him out. Behind him the other Guardians began to summon their weapons, activate siege craft like ballista and catapults and begin a defensive pike-line. '

Around Pyrus the dissidents of Valinor charged, battle cries erupting into the air. It was Ainur fighting Ainur, Maiar fighting Maiar, brothers and sisters killing their own, it was madness, it was heresy, it was...

The Apocalypse.


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"FOR THE DARK LORD!" Pyrus would roar, taking his Warhammer from his back and charging the the guardians, as soon as he was in range he would channel his speed and strength and jump as high in the air as he could aiming for the seige craft, and slam his Warhammer into the ground. Even if he couldn't make it that far he would still slam his Warhammer into the ground in front of the pikeline.
 
"I am not one to seek glory. Frankly, the 'hiding-and-surviving' is much more my style," he said. "The only reason I'm doing any of this is so that my children can live awhile longer." He paused. "Do you have any of your own?"
 
Ha'zi's eyes lit up at the craftsmanship of the elven weapons displayed. He was a natural hunter, but what items would he grab, and what would he get rid of? The boar spear he owned was just temporarily, but the Crocolion teeth had some sentimental value. But... which one is sharper? A tooth from a sea monster or a dagger from the powerful elves? He could get both, though. Ha'zi had acquired a weapon's belt from the elven clothing store so he could store my items. Promptly making up his mind, he grabs 2 elven daggers, then gazes at the other items. A spear, a bow, a quiver filled with arrows, a sword, and a few other choices. Ah, yes, good hunting equipment that he was used to. With a grin, he chooses and equips the spear and bow and arrows.
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Ha'zi walked along the group, a bit worried about their reception. "Cardiloc... should we leave you alone here? They don't seem to like us..." To Ha'zi, he felt some sympathy for them. Dunland seemed poorer than Ha'zi's family back in Harad, and that's saying something. He felt sympathy, but what could he do? They hated their presence, and anything he might give might be tossed right back. The boy sighed, feeling deflated, and continues walking along with the group.
 
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