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VENTURES INTO THE REMOTE (RP)

As Sigeric rushed down the road, Alfrid screeching as mushroom people bite into the horse's legs, one of the mushroom people jumped on his back and began to tear into Sigeric's belt...heading for his unmentionables...

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"Cardiloc? My Cardiloc? Is that truly you?" She asked hearing him clearly for the first time. Outside, Ha'zi's voice distorted his and she was sure that they were ruffians. Ela stood between them and moved back.

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The eagle stared at Thoruk, completely confused.

"You need help, okay. But not from me." It said and flew off into the skies, leaving them.

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"But, Dimitrius, you just got back?! Now you're leaving me? It's nearly been thirty-years since you left. Please stay, have some tea, speak with your father, sleep in your old room at least?" She told him.

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Sigeric reached for his back, grabbing the mushroom man and attempting to throw him into the forest. If he failed, he would draw his rapier, and attempt to skewer it.
 
"Yeah mother just please don't shut me out." Cardiloc pleaded with his mother, a few tears falling from his cheek as he stood there.
 
Daugo remained quiet during most of the day, his thoughts fixed on such esoterica as death and immortality.

Before going to sleep, his inner voice said, "damn Daugo. You're starting to think like these elves." He feel asleep shortly after, dreaming of his children and Éodig and Andreth. Come morning, however, he was more of his usual self, talkative and inquisitive behind a mask of joviality.
 
"AYE! Wait, bird friend! We need yer help to stop Melkor!" Thoruk sighed as the bird flew away from them. "Alright lads, we're on our way then. Erebor awaits."
 
"Very well brother. Know that I fight you with a heavy heart." He would whistle and pretend to signal a group of allies behind him. If he fell for it and turned around he would charge Calon. Going to hit him in the head with his mace.
 
"Yeah, your old man is too lazy these days. Could you pick up some milk from the village?" His mother called after him. Their old village lay a mile away, near the river.

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The mushroom man scurried about his hand and bite it before he was tossed away. Sigeric saw blood had been drawn and Kuntsworth kicked through hordes of mushroom people who appeared on the path. They were nearly on their way out before a mushroom person climbed onto Sigeric's chest and stuffed its head inside his mouth. Sigeric was forced to eat the mushroom as he could not breath, the mushroom person sticking its fingers up his nose...slowly he began to loose consciousness and fade into a dreamy lucid sleep.

Five hours later, Sigeric awoke back at his camp, no wounds, no mushrooms around, no fire, nothing except Alfrid Kuntsworth sleeping. Was it all a bad dream? He sniffed the air and something was off. It smelt like mushroom and he noticed a large fat mushroom sitting next to where he slept. Mushroom people...the thought made him shiver. He eventually fell back asleep in the darkness, a little leech latching onto his left buttock whilst he napped.

Four hours later, the sun rose and the caws of early birds awoke him again. Time to keep going.

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"Let me feel your face." She said, moving her hands into the air nearby him. She was blind. Touching, speaking and hearing were her only true modes of communication left.

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Iver and Thoruk saw the Lonely Mountain ahead of them and beyond it the river Celduin, the Long Lake and Esgaroth upon it, Dale, and beyond all of that, the sprawling forests of Mirkwood. They had made it.

"Where are you gonna land, Iver?" Marco asked, slowly waking up from a rest. It had been a day and a half since they saw the eagle, yet Thoruk's head still hurt after what Iver did. Who bashes their friend's skull into a wall?

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It was three more days of riding before Daugo saw anything newsworthy. To his right was a great sprawling city on a large hill. Wooden houses, thatched roofs, walls and fences of wood and various flagposts dictated to him that this was both a great city and an easy tinderbox. Ahead of them, a column of riders rode, bearing spears, axes, lances, and swords as they approach, carrying a tall green flag of a white stallion mid-trot with a burning sun behind it.

"Halt! Who goes there?" Spoke one of the riders, bearing a red shield and spear with the flag of Rohan on its end-tip.

"Elves of Rivendell, riding south to the Lands of Gondor. Allies of the King." Celeborn said to the man, slowing down the column with a raised hand.
"May we camp outside the city for the day whilst I, along with my companions," he looked to Daugo, "Hold an audience with King Eomer?"

"Wait here and I shall return." The Rohirrim said, riding off with some of the Eorlings, the majority remained to watch the elves. Some raised eyebrows at the sight of Daugo, a hobbit, and one questioned him, "You a child or a dwarf?"

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The journey took Grimnir two days to reach the Anduin river. Now this was a foreseeable object which blocked his path. He would have to find someway to cross. Would Grimnir head north or south to find a bridge or a crossing of some sorts?

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Calon turned to see who was flanking him, only to take a mace to the side of his face. The Guardian's helmet took the blow and fell off in the scuffle. The Maia turned back and swung his Maiar-blade at Pyrus, aiming for his torso, a low blow.

"You would choose Morgoth over me?!" Calon shouted, hitting back.

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Cardiloc let his mother touch his rough cheekbones, before he pulled her into a hug wiping away the tears. "Mother, who killed our family?" He questioned to her, a flicker of anger crossing his face.
 
"Sure, I'll be back." he exclaims. He leaves the house, grabbing his warhammer on the way out and moving his bundles to a different place, this time a hollowed out log he made when he was young, tucked away in a grove of trees away from the road. He heads down to the town, belting out songs he picked up from his years on the road.
 
Pyrus would jump back attempting to dodge the blow. "I didn't even know if you were alive anymore. Even if I did it's not like you would harbor me here!" He would yell back, if successful with the dodge he would go for a thrust with his Maiar Blade aimed for his armpit.
 
"Neither," he said, a bit ticked off. "I am a halfling, a hobbit! Daugo Burgins of Buckland, at your service," he added in a chipper tone.
 
She felt Cardiloc's face, moving her hands across his jaw and lips, quite awkwardly but in a loving manner. She reached his nose and pinched it before speaking, "Yes, it is you! You still have that mole there," she exclaimed joyously before hearing his question, "Our family home was burned after the War. The Enedwaithrim descended with fire and stone upon us. Your father was inside and so was your middle brother and sister. Your older brother died in the war against Rohan, which was because he was deceived by the evil wizard Saruman who tricked us to fight the horse-lords. The horse-lords let us stay and keep our lands but we were defenseless. Many in the fights with the Enedwaithrim and they took rulership over Dunlend and the Enedwaith. Your little sister, Ela and I were at the Adorn markets when they came with torches and blades and slaughtered everyone here. We live here, alone. Ela is the only reason I am able to live. She helps me, brings me food and water, and puts me to sleep. She was born nearly 9 winters ago. She was all I had left, but now, I have you too." She brought her arms around Cardiloc, hugging him close.

"Come, Ela." She said to the little girl and Ela rushed into Cardiloc, adding herself to the hug. For the first time in eight months, Cardiloc felt truly loved. He then realized that Ha'zi had run off into the wild alone.

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The village was quite chill this day. The sun was getting low and most people had went home. The market, desolate. Dimitri saw the Shepherd nearby the Butcher and remembered them. Years ago when he was a boy he had played with the children of the Shepherd and Butcher, now he saw that those children grew up to take the places of their fathers. He saw his old, innocent friends talking over a stall, oblivious to him.

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Calon missed him and attempted to evade the counter-attack, rushing backward as Pyrus lunged at him.
"I took the punishment for you! It would be you here in my place if I hadn't! And no, I wouldn't harbor you here because I swore an oath of allegiance to Illuvitar. Not to you or your false God!" Calon quickly countered, Pyrus' attack, driving the Maiar-blade at his throat, throwing in all his cards for this attack. Pyrus saw he could dodge the blade easily and stab Calon in the leg. But would Pyrus?

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"Another one?" One man said in the group.
"Seems like it. Hobbit. Yeah." Another replied.
"Do you know a Dildo Fag-" A third added.
"It's Frodo Baggins, Elfhelm." The first one countered.
"Yeah, that Baggins. Heard of him?" The second asked.

Celeborn and a few of the elves at the front of the column were quite amused.

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Night came and the sun rose. Three day passed. Grimnir reached the Bridge of the Anduin at the Carrock. A large bridge extended over the Anduin (no shit) and was guarded by a bunch of hairy looking men that dwarfed the dwarf (no shit).

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Dimitri quietly went about his task, seeking out anyone that sold milk. He still had a few gold that he, uhhh, requisitioned from the Elves of Rivendell. He kept his warhammer close, knowing that anything could happen now that he was hunted.
 
Damn straight he would. Dodging the blow and going to stab him in the leg quickly ripping it out in a way so that either he would fall over or he would cut his muscle, hopefully causing for him to go on one knee. "I didn't ask you to take my punishment! Maybe if you had let me taken the oath things would have been different!"
 
Suddenly, Durin's Axe melts into dust in Grimnir's palms. What was this? Sorcery?

A little voice in the back of his head spoke up, "Might wanna listen next to, Grommy."

Then the axe returned to normal. His eyes were clearly not working this day. He recognized he was literally starving himself, out of any sort of money since he did not bother to check for coin in Moria and was on his last energy reserves. He had water but his stomach continued to grumble.

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He acquisitioned the milk off the shepherd without much talk and continued on his way. Dimitri saw no dangers as he left the village. Then he heard it. The sound of thunder. The sky was clear.

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The Maiar-blade entered Calon's thigh and he fell to the floor staring up at him in a mixture of shock and horror.
"You betrayed me. I saved you and you betrayed me..." Calon said as the wound filled with light, his body began to fume and bright white light erupted out of his eyes and mouth as he screamed in agony, his soul being ripped apart. Calon's eyes returned to normal and his body slumped to the floor in front of Pyrus. His eyes no longer lively. His face pale as marble. He was dead.

Around Pyrus the battle was simmering down and the last of the Guardians had been finished off. Azura and a couple of Maiar had surrounded Pyrus and watched as he slew Calon.
"Well done," She said, patting his shoulder and saying, "Now, for the bodies."

Ahead of them was the cage that held the frozen bodies of nearly fifty people, locked in some sort of purgatory.

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Dimitri's eyes shot open in fear. He sprinted back to his parent's house and placed the milk on the porch, before going back to the hollowed out log and taking the bundles. Manwe's Eru-damned hearlds followed him everywhere. He sprints towards the west, and wrapped his bundles into one bundle to carry them easier. His goal was to escape the valley as swiftly as possible and head north.
 
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