Forums / Roleplaying / The Noldor in the land of Zeta
| The Noldor in the land of Zeta | ||||
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Chapter 15 Manwe awoke, his sight blurry, and his body numb. He cracked open his eyes and saw a dark room around him. A distorted figure walked toward him, and when Manwe’s vision cleared slightly, he discerned it to be an orc. Breathing heavily, Manwe tried to sit up. As soon as he moved, a set of gnarly, twisted hands grasped him and shoved him down on the table he was lying on. Looking up, Manwe saw the face of the orc sneering down at him. The beast raised his fist and smacked Manwe on the side of the face. And that’s for trying to get up, dwarf scum! Now, let’s try a little experiment I like to call: amputation. The orc erupted into hideous laughter. Then, suddenly quiet, it turned and picked up a small rusty knife from another table. Let’s start with the legs. Don’t worry; it’ll only hurt a little. Heeheehee, this is gonna be fun! Raising the knife, the orc plunged it downwards. Angrod motioned for silence. The edge of the forest was in sight, but Angrod wanted to be sure there wasn’t a trap waiting for them. Turning, he motioned to the other dwarves, who slowly crept up till they were next to him. Speaking to Maedhros, he said, I think its all clear. Just to be sure, I’ll go forward to scout it ou- He was interrupted by Maedhros, who argued in a low voice. My lord, you can’t do that. For all we know-- sorry to say this—but for all we know, your father could be dead. If that’s so, you’re our king and I won’t let my king go risk himself for nothing. Just send me or one of the others. Sighing, Angrod nodded and gave in. Alright, but I’m keeping you by my side. You’ve proven yourself, and when we get back to Southern Pass, you’ll officially become my second. Thanking Angrod, Maedhros chose another dwarf, who crept forward. A minute later, he disappeared into the darkness. A small spot of light showed the edge of the forest, but other than that, Angrod could barely see anything. After waiting a few minutes, Angrod heard someone crawling, and the dwarf rejoined them. The coast is clear, he said gruffly. As far as I know, that is, he added. Nodding, Angrod crawled forward. The darkness chilled him, and he shivered as he slithered through the dead leaves and grass. As the spot of light grew bigger and brighter, Angrod moved faster and faster. By the time he could see the ground and trees clearly, he was running. Bursting out into the sunlight, Angrod was dazzled and dizzied by its brightness. Shaking his whole body like a dog, he shivered in delight. Smiling, he looked back to his companions. They were gone. He was alone. Then—bum, bum…the drums. | ||||
finally got another chapter out--sorry for the delay | ||||
Chapter 16 The sound of tearing flesh sounded in Manwe’s ear, but he felt no physical pain. Then a gurgle, and the orc fell headlong over Manwe. Using all his strength, Manwe heaved the orc off and saw an arrow in its back. Feeling his leg, Manwe could feel no cut, and realized the sound was the arrow in the orc’s back. But who had fired the arrow? Looking up, he saw an archer, and a shaman, and in between them another orc. The orc was dressed in dark red armor, and engraved on his breastplate was the sign of Lord Szalor. Striding over, he looked at the dead orc and nodded. Burn his body and dispense with the ashes, he said to the archer. He was a traitor. Now, let’s see about the dwarf. Ferociously tearing through the forest, Angrod raced back to where he had last seen his men. There was no trace of them. Then, he saw something scrawled on the ground. In blood, a picture was drawn of a sign—the sign of Szalor. Growling with rage, Angrod took a few steps to the right before he noticed something else. Hanging over a tree branch was the body of one of his guards, slathered in blood. Another body, its head cleaved in two, rested in the hollow beneath a large tree. Looking around, Angrod saw more and more details showing the place to be the scene of a slaughter. But…how? A sound recognizable to any warrior brought Angrod to full alert. The sound of a blade sliding from a sheath. Flying into action, the dwarf threw himself at a tree feet-first. Hitting the tree with his thick feet, he rebounded and rolled to a crouch. Embedded in the tree and ground where he had just been, where 5 curved throwing knives. Leaping forward, Angrod caught up three of the knives before racing back towards the sunlight. Another knife pounded into the ground next to his foot. His toe caught on the handle, and Angrod fell head over heels, tumbling across the bumpy ground. A screech pierced the air, and an orc leaped from a tree toward Angrod. Landing on the dwarf, it snickered and raised its knife. As it bared its teeth, its eyes suddenly bulged, and the orc fell sideways as a sword protruded from its chest. Over it stood Maedhros, his bloody sword plunged through the orcs back. | ||||
Good | ||||
and another chapter coming up... thanks charley :) | ||||
Chapter 17 You dwarf, speak to me. Tell me how many troops you have, and how many defending your cities. Coughing, Manwe tried to speak, but his voice was ho*beep* and his lungs seemed cold and empty. Frowning, Szalor nodded at the shaman, who produced a brown flask. With his right hand, the shaman held open Manwe’s mouth, and with his other, he poured some of the liquid down Manwe’s throat. The dwarf roared as fire burned through his body; his limbs were on fire, and his lungs felt like furnaces. Flying into a sitting position, Manwe panted as the sensation left. The heat was gone, but Manwe felt energized and hyper. Looking down at his side, he noticed that there was no wound where he had been shot. Looking up, he questioningly looked at the shaman. Yes, he healed you with his black arts, said Szalor. But that’s not important. Let’s get to business—I ask you again, how many troops? Manwe shook his head furiously. I will never tell you, even if I have to die. Looking sympathetic, Szalor sighed. It’s so sad, for you could be free if you but told us…instead, you’ll have to spend some time with our therapists. Maybe they’ll convince you that this is the right thing to do. Returning to his ferocious attitude, Szalor smacked Manwe across the face. Take him to the dungeons. And send some of our…therapists. Hopefully they can help. Angrod and Maedhros stood in the valley outside the forest, staring towards Shalock. Far away, they could hear the sound of the orcs battle-drums, but there was no magical effect. Looking back at Maedhros, Angrod questioned him. So, what exactly happened? Well, as soon as you started running, a bunch of orcs pounced on us from the trees. I don’t know how many others were lucky enough to escape, for I was knocked out at the very beginning. I woke up and saw the orc about to kill you, and that’s about all there is to it. Nodding, Angrod furrowed his brow. So are we all alone? Were we the only ones to escape the drums? Did we—Angrod’s questions were suddenly answered as a group of dwarves charged out of the forest. At their head, Angrod recognized Thurgon and Celbrimbor. As soon as they arrived at where Angrod was, he burst out: Is my father with you? Thurgon shook his head. No my lord, we did not see him. But I am glad that you are alive. These dwarves behind me, now he motioned to his soldiers. These dwarves were all under the spell. We met in the forest, and slowly found more and more dwarves until now, our group numbers a few hundred. As soon as I got hold of a messenger, I sent it to Southern Pass for reinforcements, and I assume they shall be here within the next few hours. Good! Angrod said, so, in a few hours we will attack again, eh? Maybe my father is there… I wonder. If he is, we will rescue him. Hopefully he is still alive… A scream echoed from the bottom of the dungeon. A deep scream. A dwarven scream. A scream of a dwarf named Manwe. | ||||
woah. good job. keep it up. | ||||
thank you! so far on microsoft word, it is only 28 pages long...though it's the longest thing i've ever written. i've always wanted to write books, but i never get a good plot. the only times i'm ever successful are when i already have a vague story, and i turn it into fiction and add details... | ||||
My first story, The Shadows, was 15 pages long on Word but it was not double spaced. I didn't like double spacing because I only liked doing that for school papers because it made the paper seem bigger. Good work though. | ||||
My current writing (squire's tale) is 32 pages hand-written, but so far, 21 pages on word (double-spaced for editing, and only about 3/4 of the book) | ||||
it's gonna be abook? is it about VU? | ||||
Chapter 18 Under cover of night, Angrod and his dwarves, along with the reinforcements, snuck closer to Shalock until they were practically under the walls. After a long meeting of the leaders, they had decided to assume that the orcs believed they had won and that all the dwarves were dead. It would be essential to their attack. Before the wall, the dwarves slunk in the shadows, hoping to get to the gates unnoticed. Raising his sword, Angrod motioned with it and was soon joined by Maedhros and Thurgon. Whispering, Angrod said, alright, tell the troops to get ready. The gate’s just around the corner. Do we have any spies with us? When his question was answered with a no, Angrod nodded and continued. Okay, then…uh, Maedhros and I will scale the walls—or try—and if and when we get in, we will open the gates. This immediately was met by a quiet protest, to which Angrod replied with just as much enthusiasm. No. I will go, and it doesn’t matter what you say. Shut up, and go get me a rope, Thurgon. Anyways, I have more chance of getting there, because I’ve had more training than you. So just shut up and get me the supplies. In a few minutes, everything was ready, and Maedhros, Angrod, and Thurgon rounded the corner. Arriving at the gates, Angrod looked up and checked his grappling-hook-rope. Swinging it like a sling, he let it go and watched it float lazily upward before coming back down and catching on the wall. Tugging on it, Angrod affirmed that it was secure. Swinging his legs onto the wall, he slowly pulled himself upwards. Climbing faster and faster, Angrod neared the top. Footsteps clanked on the top of the wall, and Angrod pulled himself as close to the wall as possible. As the orc guard leaned over the wall, Maedhros swung the backup grappling hook. After soaring high, the sharp, pronged, hook fell back downwards and caught on the orcs neck. Pulling him over the wall, it smashed him into the ground. Angrod sighed with relief and continued his journey upwards as Maedhros pulled the hook from its kill. Reaching the top, Angrod signaled down to Maedhros, who then commenced climbing. Ducking down, Angrod surveyed his surroundings. Two guards were on the opposite side of the gate with their backs turned toward Angrod. He would have to deal with them before he could open the gate. Glancing around him, Angrod pulled out a long dagger. | ||||
finally, chapter 18... samulis: are you gonna try to publish the "squires tale" or is it just for fun? | ||||
Chapter 19 A sharp needle poking into Manwe’s leg woke him with a start. For a moment, he forgot where he was, but when he breathed through his nose, it reminded him. He was in the dungeon of Shalock, which more like a sewer than a prison. He was chained to the wall by his left wrist, but his fellow inmates were free. That is, the orcs. Seven orc criminals roamed the dungeon, and two elves and a Halfling were chained to the wall like Manwe. The place smelled like rotten meat and cattle dung, but there was a slight hint of blood in the scent. Choking on the smell, Manwe looked up to see two of the orcs standing over him, one poking a metal sliver into Manwe’s left leg. With his right hand, Manwe swatted at the orcs, but they slunk out of his reach, leaving the needle implanted in the dwarf’s leg. Pulling the shard of iron free, Manwe hurled it at the orcs. Snickering evilly, the two orcs, plus two others that had joined them, closed in around Manwe. They each held a weapon, some of which they had smuggled into the dungeon, and others which they had made, like a thin piece of metal sharpened and used as a dart. As they came closer and closer to Manwe, he gritted his teeth. Spitting on the ground at them, he raised his head and roared. Echoing higher and higher, a slight whisper of the sound reached the top of the deep hole called a dungeon. Angrod and Maedhros crept along the top of wall towards the two orc guards. Both dwarves had drawn daggers in their hands, and they were tensed and ready. But they caught their breath, for one of the orcs began to turn. By the time the orc had seen them, the two dwarves were sprinting toward their adversaries. It took the orc a few seconds to distinguish Angrod and Maedhros as dwarves, but when he did, he whipped out a crossbow. A quarrel flashed by Angrod’s head and he flew into a somersault, dodging another dart. Standing, he closed the few yards between him and the orc. Slashing upwards with his dagger, Angrod sliced through the first orcs face. Looking around, he saw the other orc running towards a set of stairs leading down from the wall. Oh, no you don’t, thought Angrod. Picking up the crossbow, he jammed a bolt into it and raised it to his eye. Aiming the sights on the orc’s head, he fired, but was disappointed when the projectile clattered off the wall next to the orc’s head. Loading another quarrel, he fired again, and happily heard the sound of a bolt sinking into flesh. The orc tumbled down the last few steps and came to a stop with the bolt firmly in his chest. Nodding, Angrod loaded the crossbow again just in case, and walked down the stairs followed by Maedhros. Remembering the orc system from Ragnarok, Angrod located the hut with the mechanism for opening and closing the gates. Gripping the lever with both hands, Angrod pulled it down and was satisfied with the gentle creak of an opening gate. | ||||
in a few chapters, part 1 will end and part 2 will begin. i forgot to put a little intro thingy saying part 1, but from now on, you know... | ||||
Chapter 20 A pair of green eyes snapped open. Black hair hanging in front of them was brushed away with a slender hand. Pointed ears poked out of the black hair, and the skin was pale. Crimson lips twitched to form silent words. A resounding crack broke the silence as the elves’ chains broke and the two stood. The black-haired one who had muttered the incantation was a male, and his accomplice a female. Dark red hair hung to her shoulders, where it formed a single braid hanging to her waist. Her eyes shone blue and clear; but in the same way that they looked joyful, they were perilous. This Manwe knew as he watched the two elves stand and walk toward him. The four orcs turned, and when they saw the elves, an expression of total fear melted their faces and they flattened themselves against the wall next to Manwe. The female elf spoke, and her voice rang loud and sweet. The words she spoke were the same as those spoken by her comrade, but these were spoken with venom. As the previous words were directed at the chains, these were spoken at the orcs, who fell to the ground as their heads burst. Blood splattered on Manwe and he shivered. Standing, he raised his head to look closer at the elves, who knew stared at him with a piercing gaze. Breathing in, the male elf opened his mouth and spoke. As the gate swung open, Thurgon and the other dwarves rushed in. Thurgon immediately confronted Angrod to make sure he wasn’t hurt, but was waved off by the prince. You don’t need to follow my every step to make sure I’m healthy! How do you think I manage when you aren’t here? Thurgon nodded at the reprimand. I’m just doing what I think is right, sir. I hope you don’t mind. Shrugging his shoulders, Angrod checked his crossbow and motioned for quiet. It seems that so far we haven’t been noticed, he addressed the dwarves. But we want to keep that advantage. There will be no battle-cries, cheering, or screaming. And also, we are civilized, unlike this scum. We will not plunder, rape, or steal. Simply kill or capture the troops, and when we have the city, we will discuss wages. Raising his sword in his hand, Angrod pointed to the sky, then motioned to Celebrimbor. Celebrimbor, you and your troops will go to the north. Secure the other gate and kill or capture the guards and any soldiers you encounter. Thurgon, you and your troops will go to the west to secure the area and deal with the soldiers. I and Maedhros with our troops will go east toward the palace to confront whoever is in charge here. A small portion of the troops will stay here to secure this gate. Understood? His question was met by a chorus of whispers. Angrod nodded, smiled, and gathered his troops. The two hundred troops, slunk through the shadows toward the palace with Angrod at their head and Maedhros behind. Once in a while, they encountered a few soldiers, whom they would kill or knock out. As they neared the palace, the number of troops they met increased until at every block they would have to fight. When they could see the roof of the palace, Angrod finally decided they had to find another way. Entering a house, they snuck past the sleeping occupants and climbed to the roof. From there, they found it would be easy to go from roof to roof. Ten minutes later, they arrived at the roof nearest to the palace. Climbing down from the roof through the house they walked out onto the street. By the time they all got out, they filled the street. Eight orcs stood across from them, but when they saw the dwarves’ numbers, they immediately ran. Before they made it very far, they were picked off by crossbowmen. Alright, now is the time to split up. We’ll go in groups of fifty, that’s four groups. Each group will try to find a way in without being discovered. As Angrod said this, a few of his dwarves were hiding the bodies of the dead orcs. Once each group is in, they will go to the keep , while still undetected. The four groups will gather and launch an attack on the keep, where lord Szalor is probably located. Any questions? Dispersing, the dwarves slunk inside the palace, and the attack on the palace began. | ||||
It would be nice to get Squire's Tale published but I can't find a good place to start... anyone have connections with publishers or somthing?
Manwe, I like the story. The part about the roofs was great, I think you should try to draw (by hand) some illistrations. | ||||
Chapter 21 Si lamir so Riani. Ui fwe so Sirisha. Manwe swallowed and shook his head, shrugging. The elf spoke again. I am Rianai, and this is Sirisha. We were captured by the orcs and a certain poison was injected in us to make us forget our power. But when you woke us, it all came back. Manwe nodded, and I am Manwe, king of the dwarven clans, otherwise known as the noldor. I was captured recently when attacking this city. Can you help me escape? The elf smiled and nodded. Of course, my lord. We were ambassadors sent by Lord Sky to meet you, but we were captured. Manwe smiled wider. Lord Sky? Viceroy of Odyssey, my kingdom? The elves nodded. Angrod slipped into the shadows, his fifty men behind him, spread out along the palace wall. Motioning to his dwarves, the prince snuck forward toward a gate. It was still in the middle of the night, and there was no moon, so it was easy hiding from the few guards they encountered. Squinting, Angrod saw that the guard at the gate was changing. Perfect timing. Rushing forward, Angrod fired a bolt into one guards head and reloaded as he ran toward the other three. Behind him, the noldor fired and two other guards went down. The one remaining guard turned to run, but was pinned to a wall by his hand, a quarrel going through it and into the wall. Angrod slowed to a walk, and raising his crossbow, fired a dart into the orc’s heart. Thurgon marched through the city. In front of him was a group of twenty ors fleeing, and behind him were two hundred men. Raising his sword, Thurgon motioned his men into a run. The orc’s finally turned and set their backs against a wall, most shivering with fear. Pulling crossbows, bows, and spears, or any long range weapon, they fired, threw, and shot at the dwarves. Thurgon’s first line fell, but he motioned the attack forward. Charging through the missiles, he leaped into the air and swung his axe downwards, crushing an orc archer. As the dwarves and orcs clashed, a roar went up from the orcs. Battling fiercely, they tore through the dwarves. Thurgon swung again, this time he beheaded a spear-orc. Then, shoving his axe forward, he pinned an archer against a wall. Kicking it in the side, he pulled his axe back and embedded it into the orcs chest. | ||||
Chapter 22 Riani, Sirisha, and Manwe stood at the bottom of the dungeon, looking up. Faraway, they could see a pinpoint of light that marked the top of the hole. The means of communication between the dungeon and the city was a series of wooden elevators which were each guarded by two orcs. Sighing, Manwe looked to the elves for a means of escape. So…how do we get out? Do not worry, my lord. We shall escape, said Riani. Then Sirisha uttered three powerful words. Rigo sa chiran! The lowest elevator slowly came down; it was moved by means of a pulley. The two orcs on it, bewildered, looked at each other and then looked at the elves. As the elevator came to a stop, the orcs leaped out of it and ran towards Manwe. Before they had taken four steps, they fell to the ground, blood seeping from their chests, for Riani had muttered another incantation. It seemed they were powerful magicians. Striding quickly, Riani walked toward the elevator, followed by Manwe. Sirisha turned back to the Halfling chained to the wall. Fisura. Teri upeli. As she said this, the Halfling woke and his chains crumbled. Yawning, he stood up and said amiably. G’day mates. I guess I’ll just have a cu—he looked around him as if waking from a dream. Oh, rot. I forgot about all this—again, he interrupted himself. Oh, hello. Do you by any chance know how I’ve come free? Sirisha laughed quietly and motioned for him to follow her. Together, they entered the elevator and the four pulled themselves up by the pulley. As they arrived at a platform where they would embark n the second elevator, two orcs ran to the edge of the platform and drew their swords. Riani gritted his teeth and stretched out his hand toward them. Two balls of flaming energy shot from his palm and embedded themselves in the orc’s chests, who immediately fell off the platform. The bodies fell down, down, down into the darkness as Manwe neared the surface. Celebrimbor and his men slipped past the tents as they wove their way through the temporary trader’s camp. Finally, the dwarves reached the street and crossed towards the orc’s A battle-cry broke the early morning silence as the orcs retreated through the slums. Thurgon and his men had been winning, but as the orcs retreated, their numbers were slowly increasing. Every few houses they passed, a few orcs would come out and join them; in this way, the orcs were steadily growing in numbers. Pausing a moment, Thurgon summoned his herald and told him, it’s now or never. We must double our pace and catch them before they outnumber us. Signal a double-march! Nodding, the herald blew into a small trumpet. A quick tune hung in the air as the dwarves quickened their pace to a sprint. Seeing this, the orcs began to turn and ready their weapons. As they did this, Thurgon signaled a volley, and a shower of arrows, quarrels, and darts buried themselves in the orc’s ranks. With the orcs in confusion, the dwarves threw themselves into the battle and fought for their lives. | ||||
Chapter 23 Angrod sprinted towards the keep, his men behind him. As he pulled up near the large door, he was joined by the other three groups of fifty men. Looking around, he happily noted that it was still dark. Were you detected? The group leaders shook their heads. No, one said. We dealt with anybody who saw us. Good job, said Angrod, now, let’s move! Do we have any siege specialists here? After a few seconds, a dwarf walked to the front and he and Angrod conversed for a few minutes. Then Angrod nodded and the dwarf began to search his pack. A few seconds later, he was working on the door to the keep. His main goal was to raise the bolt from the inside, which would present a challenge. However, he was one of the most famous door-openers in the noldor. Within a quarter of an hour, the door was opened and the dwarves poured in. patting the door-opener on the back, Angrod whispered to the whole crowd. Alright, everybody spread out, but go in groups of five, at least. We want to find Szalor, or whoever’s in charge here. Also, my father may be somewhere here. Go find him! Manwe, Riani, Sirisha, and the Halfling arrived at the surface and quickly slew the guards there before turning toward the gate. As they exited the prison facility, leaving a trail of dead orcs, they heard the sound of battle. Running from the prison and into the street, Manwe ran right into Thurgon, who was commanding the field of battle against the orcs. Cursing, Thurgon lifted his axe, but then realized it was his king and fell to his knees. My Lord! You’re alive after all! Thank heavens you weren’t killed! I’m glad you’re happy to see me, replied Manwe. How many of our troops are alive? What was left of us, about two, maybe three, hundred men gathered at the edge of the forest. Last night we were reinforced, and your son Angrod led the attack early this morning! Manwe’s smile brightened when he heard is son was alive. Good! Then let’s fight! Got any extra weapons? Nodding, Thurgon handed Manwe a short, broad sword and pointed him toward the battle. Celebrimbor pulled his men back within the shelter of the slums. Alright, men. I know we outnumber ‘em handily, but I don’t want to lose any of you, okay? So, it’s five people to a roof. Get up there without being noticed, and then open fire on the beasts with all you’ve got. The dwarves spread out and climbed to the roofs of the houses; there they waited for the signal. From a large hut, Thurgon suddenly stood and waved his arms. As the orcs turned to look at him, a volley of quarrels poured into them. Again and again, the crossbow men fired, and each time, ten orcs fell. Within the space of ten minutes, the battle had been won and the north gate was taken.
[haha three chapters in a day. three chapters on thanksgiving!. btw, happy thanksgiving everyone!] | ||||
good job, I saw 1 or 2 spelling erorrs, but the rest was great. So here is the climax or is this just the begining? I bet that if you put this on Microsoft Word it would be over 50 pages long. You should really think about bringing this before an person with a digree in English or somthing and get this published. It is a catching story, and you are a good fiction writer. | ||||
thankyou! i think i want to start writing historical fiction, but i can't find the right time or place to write about... in microsoft word, it's 38 pages, but that's on 8 1/2 by 11 inch paper. on paper the size of a book, it's around 80 pages. | ||||
Chapter 24 Angrod, Maedhros, and three other dwarves climbed a spiral staircase up to the top of the keep. as they came out on the top of the tower, Angrod surveyed the city below them. To the north, he saw two groups fighting, one he assumed to be Celebrimbor’s dwarves. To the west, Angrod could see a fierce battle in the slums, and beyond it, a walled area that looked like a prison. While Angrod did this, Maedhros searched the top of the tower but found nothing. Turning back, they ran down the stairs. On the way down, Angrod noticed a door that he hadn’t seen before, and they immediately entered it. Three doors confronted them. Motioning, Angrod sent two dwarves into one door, Maedhros and one dwarf into another, and he himself took the third door. As soon as Angrod stepped past the threshold, the door slammed behind him, and there was an eerie pounding in his head. Dizzily looking around, he saw two figures standing opposite him. The shorter one was dressed in a black robe, his hood was on, and he held a cracked staff in his right hand. The taller person wore dark red armor, a black cape, and held a long notched sword in his hand. They were both orcs. On the taller orc’s breastplate was engraved an image of a dagger embedded in a bleeding hand. It was the sign of lord Szalor. Chuckling evilly, Szalor walked toward Angrod, and raised his sword. Angrod felt like he was falling. His head was pounding, and his vision flashing red, white and black. Stumbling forward, he came to a stop when something sharp pricked his neck. As the first blood dropped, his mind cleared and he had one thought. I’m at the mercy of my enemy…and I’m going to die. Utter confusion reigned as Manwe battled the orcs. Around him was a circle of his dead foes, and at the time, he was engaging three soldiers. A few yards away, Thurgon beheaded an orc captain and roared with delight. Around Manwe, the battle raged by the hundreds, and although the orcs were fighting fiercely, the dwarves were winning. Swinging his sword, Manwe blocked two of the orcs blows and swung at the other with his fist. The orc caught Manwe’s hand, but his grin was wiped off his face by Manwe’s sword, which he used to bash in the orc’s face. When the orc had lain there for a few seconds, Manwe stopped watching him, for he knew he was dead. Turning to the other two, he swung at them but his blow was blocked. As one orc slashed towards Manwe’s head, the dwarf blocked with his gauntlet and shoved his sword up the orcs armpit. Groaning, the orc stumbled and was promptly beheaded. But now, Manwe’s back was to his last enemy, and he heard the sword whistling down towards him. Leaning forward and twisting sideways, Manwe jumped into a roll, blocked the sword, and smashed the orc on the head with his heavy fist. As he landed on his feet, Manwe punched again, before plunging his sword into the orc’s chest. Looking around, he realized that the battle was almost over. A small group of orcs then charged at Manwe, but before he could move, two figures leapt from somewhere and within seconds, had defeated them all with their bare hands. As the two figures stopped moving, Manwe smiled, for they were Riani and Sirisha. | ||||
I really like the charicters of Riani and Sirisha. They add that kind of 'Legolas' charicter you didn't really have, you know, the elf the pwns everyone really awsomely? | ||||
ja. ist gut. | ||||
Chapter 25 As Angrod felt the sword pierce his skin, his rage from the past few days welled up in him and he felt a strange power he’d never encountered before. His head felt like a huge ball of energy was thrashing through it, and he thought he would burst if it wasn’t released. Three words he’d never heard before leapt to his lips unbidden, and as his mouth opened, Angrod felt the strange power rushing like a torrent. Et raku los! As he said this, the strange energy decreased. At the same time, Szalor flew backwards and smashed against the table and the shaman gripped his staff tighter, his face tightening. So, the orc said in an evil voice. So, you, a mere dwarf, are a fellow magician. Interesting… Manwe stood next to Thurgon, Celebrimbor, Riani, and Sirisha in front of the dwarven army. Thurgon’s troops had been joined by Celebrimbor’s and now all the troops but Angrod’s were gathered in the slums. Raising his hand, Thurgon spoke. Hail, Lord Manwe of the Noldor. He was thought to be dead, but here he is, alive and well! The army cheered, and Manwe addressed them. I am glad to see all of you alive. I am also glad the orcs have been defeated. Now, everyone spread out through the city, and leave no orc warrior alive! But do not plunder, and leave the women and children alive, fr they will make good servants, and we may even become friends. But any warrior or government official shall die today, for the atrocities they have committed against us! Go! Maedhros entered the room followed by the other dwarf to find a study. Walking to a desk, he sifted through the papers and found a message from Lord Overcome to Lord Szalor. Reading it, he gasped. This is what he read: Lord Szalor We have taken Shalock back from the scum, and we now offer it back to you. Take it, but in return, mount an attack with us on the hideous orcs of the noldor. Let them have the city of From Lord Overcome Maedhros stuffed the paper in a small bag and raced out the door, determined to show Angrod. But as he exited the room and looked for Angrod’s door, the dwarf’s heart skipped a beat. Angrod’s door was gone, and there were only two doors were there had previously been three. | ||||
haha i just read my story on microsoft word, and it's 41 pages long. but the battle of Shalock, which isn't even done yet, is already 23 pages long! over half of what i've written! | ||||
Chapter 26 Time paused as the shaman spoke. You, a mere dwarf, are a fellow magician. Echoing inside Angrod’s head, the words surged with energy and the raw power reentered his mind. Looking up, Angrod saw the shaman running at him, but it seemed that time was in slow-motion; for he easily blocked every blow the shaman could give. Then, engaging in a counter-attack, Angrod swung his fist and the shaman flew backwards, unconscious from a blow to the head. Reveling in his new-found power, Angrod walked forward and picked up the shaman by his collar. Roaring, he threw him at the wall, and the shaman hit the wall before crumpling to the floor. Growling, Angrod raised his sword and walked to the orc magician. Regaining consciousness, the shaman stood and looked at Angrod as the dwarf shoved his blade into the orc’s stomach. Ripping it upwards, Angrod tore through the shaman’s chest and into his throat. With blood splashing, and his throat gurgling, the orc fell to the ground. Laughing, Angrod felt the raw power take over and he barely realized that he was turning into something so evil it was worse than the orcs. Shaking it off, Angrod walked toward Szalor, picked him up, and spoke to the half-conscious orc. This is the price for your cowardice and malevolence. You will die now and the people of the world will rejoice, for another of your race has been wiped from the earth. Raising his sword, Angrod, or the power that now controlled him, plunged the steel into Szalor’s heart. Ripping it out, the dwarf threw the orc against the wall and turned back to the door to exit. As he did, Angrod struggled to throw off the force that he had at first enjoyed but which now threatened to destroy him with pure, unadulterated hatred. Dropping his sword and grabbing his chest, Angrod roared and tore at his head with his hands. Standing, he smashed his head against the wall until he fell to the ground unconscious, blood seeping from his temple. Manwe rushed to the keep, his men behind him. Finding the door already open, he rushed in and his men spread out through the tower. Almost immediately, they encountered other dwarves who told him that Angrod was there and had gone up a staircase. Running up the stairs, Manwe saw an open door, which he entered. As he passed the threshold, he ran into another dwarf. Questioning him, Manwe learned that the dwarf’s name was Maedhros, and that he had been with Angrod. Yes, sir. There were three doors here, but now there’re only two. I don’t know what happened to the other, but the prince is in there! We’ve got to find a way to get in there! As Manwe began to speak, another clear vice interjected. Excuse me, my lord dwarf, but I believe I could be of help here. Turning, Manwe saw Riani standing behind him. Nodding vigorously, Manwe watched as the elf walked to the wall and set his hand against it. Closing his eyes, the elf spoke a few words. Seconds later, a door materialized where before there had only been empty wall. It was simply an illusion, my lord. Do not let it worry you. Stepping in front of Riani, Manwe shoved open the door. As he walked into the room, he saw the same place he had been lying when he saw Szalor. And there, crumpled on the floor against the wall, was the orc leader himself. But what caught Manwe’s attention was the dwarf huddled in the middle of the room. His hands were in his hair, he was constantly moaning, and blood streamed down his face. But when the dwarf stood up, Manwe saw his son Angrod. Their eyes met, and Manwe was subjected to raw hatred and terror. That was his son. | ||||
I did not see that comming... I liked how it was the union at the end, it was very... sadening. | ||||
Chapter 27 Angrod, or the dwarf that looked like him, stood and glared at Manwe. It opened its mouth to speak, but instead of Angrod’s voice, a deep, ho*beep* voice came out. Power! At last I have found power! Rushing forward, Manwe almost grabbed Angrod but was stopped by Riani. Wait, my lord. Once in a while, someone, a magic user or not, seems to be captured by a spirit. However, though that is common belief, it is not the truth. Sometimes sorcerers cast a spell, so when their body dies, there consciousness shall search for another body to live in. Once the sorcerer finds a good body, it offers so much power to it that the person is overwhelmed. Eventually, the sorcerer takes over the body and the person’s original consciousness is destroyed. There have been few survivors of this, and all of them elves, for they are the only ones strong enough to resist. Sobbing, Manwe realized that if Angrod died, his whole family would be gone and he would have no heirs. Rushing forward, he gripped Angrod in a massive hug. Roaring, the dwarf threw him off and picked up a sword. Speaking quickly, Riani uttered a few quick incantations. Gripping his chest, the dwarf stumbled and fell to the ground, unconscious. Quickly, said Riani. If we are to help the prince, we must get him to a hospital and gather all your spell-weavers. Nodding, Maedhros and Manwe raced down the stairs. But before they had gone very far, Riani flew past them carrying Angrod on his back. Widening his eyes in wonder, Maedhros laughed. Elves… Black. Red. White. Red. And then, again, black. A series of colors flashed in Angrod’s limited vision. He was half-conscious and all he knew was that the power, the hatred that had overpowered him before was now gone. He had survived and he was alive. Now all that he needed to do was recover. But something stirred deep inside his head, and again he felt that power. But now, no longer was it overwhelming and raw, it was controlled. Then, the power surged and his whole being whispered one word. Magic… The end of Part I | ||||
I cannot beleve that was only one part. If this gets published, It will be huge. I think we have the next Tolkien! | ||||
seriously? tolkien's one of my favorite writers and i've never been compared with him. however, my sister thinks that i write exactly like christopher paolini (author of eragon) who's had three popular books and a fourth coming out. in fact his books are som of my favorite. to be compared with tolkien, called the next tolkien...WOW!!!!!!!! THANK YOU!!!!!! | ||||
Beginning of Part II, Attack and Defeat: Retreat to Salvation Chapter 28 Ik et rui, losurica pont ula. No, no, no. It’s ik et lui, rosulica pon Angrod sighed at Riani’s rebuke. For the past two months, he and Riani had been experimenting with Angrod’s strange power and had finally mustered the courage to try to harness it. But first, Riani was teaching Angrod a few magic words to try to use with his power. Alright, ik et lui, rosurica— No! rosulica. You must get that syllable right! Manwe surveyed the reports on his desk in Amon Ereb. Every week, he would go through reports of city production, army training, unusual events, and kingdom relations. Sifting through the pile of papers, his eye caught on one title: Scout passed through Lucindale, on its way to core. Pulling the report out of the pile, Manwe read it. Scout passed through Lucindale, on its way to core. Today our scout passed through lord Gokken’s city of Angrod swung his sword downwards towards the dwarf’s head, but the blow was blocked. Pulling back, Angrod stabbed at his opponent, who blocked this blow also. Grunting, Angrod pushed his adversary’s sword down and shoved forward with his shield. Lifting his sword, Angrod struck the dwarf’s shield and shoved harder with his own. The dwarf spun, ducking, and brought his sword up for a blow to the chest. Taking this opportunity, Angrod pinned his foe’s sword down with his foot and battered at his shield. Finally, the dwarf’s defenses were blown aside, and Angrod moved in for the ending blow. Swinging his sword sideways, he thwacked the dwarf on the helmet. Immediately, a whistle blew and a judge walked between Angrod and his enemy. Alright, enough. The fight’s over. The prince has won. Both contestants bowed to each other, and then walked off toward the room were the practice weapons were stowed. Wiping his sweaty hair from his face, Angrod shook his enemy’s hand. Twas a good fight. You’ll do well in the field. Grinning, the younger dwarf replied. Thanks lord Angrod, it’s fun training with veterans. As Angrod put away his sword and shield and began pulling off his chainmail, he said, ah, don’t call me lord Angrod, just call me by my first name. I have it for a reason. I’m just your teacher right now. Alright lord Angrod, said the young dwarf, completely missing Angrod’s point. Whatever you say lord. Finished, Angrod walked outside and was immediately hailed by a familiar voice. My lord, over here! Turning, Angrod mopped at his sweaty face with his shirt and saw Maedhros opposite him. Hello, Maedhros. Oh, in case you’re wondering, tonight is the official day when I declare you my second. It’s at the dinner with the ambassadors. Nodding happily, Maedhros took a bite of a pastry he held in his hand. Through a full mouth he said, want some? Shaking his head, Angrod picked up his pack and walked next to Maedhros down the street toward the keep. Nah, I got some better food in here, said Angrod, patting his pack. Maedhros hurried to keep up and, swallowing, pointed down the street. What’s that? Racing up the road in the same direction as the prince, was a mounted messenger, waving a paper in his hand and yelling, make way, make way! Urgent message for the king! Shalock under attack! Angrod gulped and swallowed. Not again… | ||||
I like how you re-introduce the charicters a bit in the second part... | ||||
thanks | ||||
Chapter 29 A messenger interrupted Manwe as he debated the production of Nargothrond with its nobleman leader. Taking the three letters the messenger had delivered, Manwe turned his back on the nobleman and began to read the messages. The first one was from Lady Jasmina of the kingdom Odyssey. Lord Manwe of Amon Ereb, your kingdom application has been accepted, And you are now a member of Odyssey. Lady Jasmina Weeks ago, Manwe had left the Guild of the Fallen, for they had fallen apart due to too many wars. He had sent a request to join the Lord Manwe of Amon Ereb, I, Lord Virah, has finally settled near you. My city of Deepest regards, Lord Virah the dwarf The third letter was from Thurgon, who had temporarily been given leadership of Shalock. My Lord! Shalock is under attack! The orc Overcome has besieged the city with a large army. As the repairs of the city gates were not finished yet, the orcs got in the city and cannot be driven out. We have no choice but to call for help, for our troops cannot repel them. Luckily, we have contained them in the southern half of the city, but our temporary barricade will not last long! We need your help! Thurgon, general of the noldor Gathered outside Ragnarok was a group of thousands of dwarf footsoldiers. All staring out into the darkness, they watched for any light in the direction of Shalock. Finally, a tiny speck of light alerted someone, and the whole army roared. Angrod stepped from their midst, and, assuring himself about the light, he marched down the hill. Raising his hand, he beckoned the soldiers, and they loped off towards the beacon that showed the way to Shalock. | ||||
nice job with the letters. I liked how they held the suspence. | ||||
Chapter 30 A volley of arrow*beep* the dwarves hard on the side. Angrod gasped and turned as three arrows pounded into the ground just feet away from him. Looking towards the arrow’s origin, Angrod saw a well-camouflaged group of orc archers, kneeling, standing, or lying on the ground. Get on the ground! Angrod yelled as he dove headlong on his face. An arrow sliced through the air above him, and the dwarf saw most of his men fall, some following his orders, others pierced by arrows. Crawling towards one of the dwarves, Angrod told him to gather the other dwarves. Slowly, crawling together, the soldiers gathered, still under a steady fire of arrows. As Angrod was about to tell them to attack, he had an idea. Standing, he yelled one of the words he had learned from Riani at the orcs and felt the strange power throw itself into action. As Angrod hurled the word at the orcs, a blinding flash illuminated the night and the orcs began to fall. One by one, they clutched their hearts and stumbled to the ground. Panting, Angrod also fell, for the magic had consumed much of his energy. However, he could still feel the power tugging at the back of his mind, trying to break free. Standing, Angrod yelled ho*beep*ly, now! Charge! Bellowing, the dwarves stood and ran at the remaining orcs. Slashing, chopping, stabbing, and hacking, the dwarves cut through the dazed orcs. Fifteen minutes after Angrod had muttered the spell, the whole orc army was dead. But now, Angrod realized something. Either Shalock had already fallen, or this was another army sent to Ragnarok or some city deeper into the dwarves’ kingdom. Quick, we must reach Shalock soon! Now run! Doubling their earlier pace, the dwarves rushed through the grass toward Shalock. The city of | ||||
pwnage! | ||||
yeah, as i write, it gets more and more violent and awesome... | ||||
Chapter 31 A trail of blood droplets on the grass marked the path of the dwarves. Every few yards, there would be a body of an orc or a dwarf, or maybe just a dismembered limb. Through the hills, the trail of blood and death reached the city of Angrod yelled to one of his captains as he lopped off the head of an orc. Any news? Nothing, my lord, came the reply. There’s a small speck on the horizon, but we’re not sure what it is. Grunting, Angrod pulled his dagger out of an orc’s neck and swung backwards, stabbing an enemy in the eye. Get a scout on it. I need to know if it’s reinforcements for the enemy! Slashing his sword and dagger forward, the prince beheaded one orc and cut the throat of another. My lord, I don’t think we’ll last very long. Our troops are haggard and their morale is low from all this fighting. Nodding at Thurgon, Angrod furrowed his brow. Waldern, he said to the secretary loyal to Manwe. Send out letters to any neighboring rulers. We need help! If the orcs break past Shalock, there may be no stopping them. Nodding, Waldern Gessif turned and began to write on a piece of paper. As Angrod thought, a scout burst in and said quickly, My Lord, we’ve discerned the dot on the horizon. It’s an enemy army, sir. Rakos! said Angrod, cursing dwarf style. How many armies does that make? Thurgon spoke before the scout could. Four, sir, counting the two you defeated on the way here. They’ve got what seem to be unlimited resources and troops. Cursing again, the prince walked out the door to gather his officers. Altogether, the captains, generals, and other assorted officers under Angrod’s command made up a few score dwarves. Each major commanded around twenty soldiers, each captain a few majors, and each general a few captains. Angrod commanded them all. Yelling so all could hear, Angrod bellowed to his officials. There seems to be no way to defeat our enemies. They get reinforcements every few days, but our troops diminish. So, I challenge—a messenger tapped Angrod on the shoulder. Turning, the prince read the letter before addressing his officers. The city of | ||||
Kind of like Aragorn's speach before the battle at the black gates 'Rize, Men of the West!' | ||||
Chapter 32 Silence. Horrible, hideous silence. Silence that reigned over the city of An orc walked through the bodies of dead orcs and dwarves. Gurgling in his throat, he laughed evilly. The noldor shall perish. No—the noldor have perished. Laughing, he continued his journey. Leaning over, he looked at the body of a dwarf. The dwarf was dressed well, and the noldor’s symbol was dyed into his torn cloak. Dark hair covered the dwarf’s eyes, and as the orc studied the body, his smile grew. Angrod. Or should I say, Prince Angrod. | ||||
Is this the end? Or is it only the begining of the end? | ||||
it is te beggining of the middle | ||||
Chapter 33 Muted roaring erupted in Manwe’s ear. Cool wind blew in his face as he dodged a swinging sword. Liquid splashed on his face as he stabbed the orc opposite him. Manwe stumbled as an ogre pounded the ground next to him with a giant hammer. Time seemed to pause as an arrow grazed Manwe’s cheek, leaving a bloody furrow in the dwarf’s flesh. Then, time resumed and the sounds of battle grew. Bashing an orc with his shield, Manwe spun and thrust his sword into the orc’s chest. A dwarf horn blew, signaling a retreat and Manwe roared as he backed up within the city gates. Then, the gates of Southern Pass swung shut. Turning to a general, Manwe asked, So, Shalock and Ragnarok have fallen? The general nodded, his face red. Manwe turned away, and a tear glistened in his eye. Angrod had been at Shalock, and if the city had fallen, so had the prince. Sifting through the bodies for loot, the orc heard a noise behind him. Turning, he gasped, and his eyes bulged. Ret silohla sui. The orc’s neck snapped and it fell to the ground, blood seeping from its neck. A small group of dwarves stumbled towards the forest. Some were missing legs or arms, or had open wounds that looked life-threatening. Leaning on each other, the defeated warriors sat down near the trees. A few stepped forth and began to bandage themselves or others. As they wrapped the white cloth around each other’s limbs, a twig snapped and all the dwarves froze. Looking towards the sound, they saw a dwarf, head-bowed. As he lifted his head, the dwarves gasped and knelt before their prince. | ||||
Yes! Yes! Angrod is alive!!! | ||||
Chapter 34 A deafening screech shattered Manwe’s mental focus and he instinctively ducked into a crouch. As he crouched, the king looked up to see a nazgul soaring overhead. Battering the air with its wings, the monster was forced downwards by its rider. As it dove toward Manwe, the dwarf roared with anger and picked up a crossbow from the hands of a dead dwarf. Raising it, he fired. The bolt sped through the air before ripping through the nazgul’s wing. Screeching, it pulled up and circled before diving again. Firing as fast as he could, Manwe sent bolt after bolt at his attacker. Tearing through the nazgul’s skin, the quarrels left thick gashes in the monster’s sides. Snarling, the beast dropped downward. Taking aim with his last shot as the beast dropped ten feet above him, Manwe shot again. Manwe rolled sideways as the beast crashed onto the wall. As Manwe looked at the beast, h saw the bolt embedded in the nazgul’s throat. Chuckling, he paused as he saw a shaman dismount the dead beast. Grunting, Manwe charged. His bloody sword in the air, Manwe leapt at the shaman. The shaman dodged, but as Manwe hit the ground with his left foot, the dwarf spun and swung again. Slashing through the shaman’s body, Manwe saw the blood splatter as two halves of his opponent hit the ground. But as he turned, the king heard another sound behind him. Turning, he saw another nazgul about to land. You’ve got to be kidding me. Manwe stumbled down the stairs. Behind him were the bodies of two nazguls and their two riders. Looking around, Manwe saw that the gate had been broken and the orcs were in the city. Groaning, he hurried over to where his general stood a few feet away. How many do we have left? He yelled over the battle-noise. I don’t know, sir, replied the general. But we’re not strong enough. We must do something. Nodding, Manwe bit his lip. Pondering his few choices, he finally made his decision. Pull back out of the city. Get all the horses we can and split into two groups. Whoever has a horse rides to Nargothrond. From there, they ride to Amon Ereb with the inhabitants of Nargothrond. The soldiers without horses march northwest to the mountains. They will go on the fringes of the mountains to Tol Sirion. They will gather its people and march to Amon Ereb. Our only chance of survival is to make a stand there. It is a great fortress unlike any of our other cities. Oh yes, and also—we burn Nargothrond and Tol Sirion. We will leave nothing to the enemy. | ||||
He killed two nazzies! Pwnage! | ||||
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