Forums / Roleplaying / The Noldor in the land of Zeta
| The Noldor in the land of Zeta | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|
Chapter 35 Wind whistled through the canyon as the dwarves marched. The sky was dark and the ground cold, but they continued to march for a fire burned in them—the desire to protect the noldor. Manwe’s head pounded as the ground vibrated with hoof-beats. Squeezing his heels tighter, the king urged his horse faster. Looking back, he saw a red speck on the horizon. It was the burning city of And we are the noldor also. I am Manwe, said the king. Good, my lord, came the reply. I was riding from Nargothrond to Southern Pass to see if it was still ours. Is it? No. it is burning. We are gathering the people of Nagothrond and Tol Sirion to go to Amon Ereb. There, we will fight to the death. You ride to Tol Sirion and tell the people to ready themselves for a long march. Nodding, the scout turned and galloped away. Squeezing his heels, Manwe rode recklessly toward Nargothrond with his dwarves behind him. The streets of Nargothrond were filled with running men, busy mothers, and screaming children. For, although it was the middle of the night, the cit was alive and busy. Bustling and noisy, dwarves crowded the streets, rushing to and from carts and houses. Loading their belongings onto wagons, the dwarves busily prepared to evacuate. The main road was clogged, and the northern gate was filled with a steady stream of wagons, people, and horses traveling north. And to the north, a days march away, was a small dot on the horizon that was the city of | ||||
part two will soon be over and part three will begin. | ||||
I can't help but ask... how many pages is it now? | ||||
Chapter 36 A pile of ash was all that remained of Nargothrond when the orcs arrived. Marching through the dusty streets, the orcs rummaged through piles of rubbish and were dismayed to find nothing left. Snarling, they swore to tear apart the accursed dwarves as soon as they caught up with them. Rushing through the streets of Tol Sirion, the dwarves gathered more and more people as they ran. Behind them marched the orcs. Deserting houses, treasures, and belongings, dwarves rushed out of their homes and ran toward the north gate. Every once in a while, an arrow would strike one and they would fall, surrounded by their companions and family members. Seconds later, their bodies would be trampled by the battalions of orcs. The streets were caked with blood and the mutilated bodies of dwarves were crushed under a thousand boots. Rushing forward, the dwarf soldiers surrounded the civilians and pushed them to march faster. As they poured out the gates, a few dwarves slipped away, unnoticed by the others. As the end of the column of dwarves exited the city, the battalion of orcs appeared around the corner. Running to catch their prey, they were startled when the gates to the city suddenly closed. Looking up, they saw a few soldiers standing on the walls. In their hands were buckets of oil which they had been pouring over the city as their comrades escaped. Now, they stood atop the wall smiling as one of them lit a torch. Lifting it in the air, the dwarf cursed the orcs with all his heart. Then, he dashed the torch upon the wall and within minutes, the city of A party of dwarves walked through the trees. At their head was their prince, and they were marching east. As they leaned on each other, they occasionally glanced at their leader. When they did, they were instilled with a courage none of them had ever experienced. It was a fire burning in their limbs that had burned in the bodies of their kings since the noldor had begun. That fire was the desire to endure; not only for them specifically to endure, but for their people to endure. That people was the noldor. | ||||
only 56 pages... but in pages the size of a normal book-114 | ||||
that is alot. My book only is 36. I really like that idea 'the desire to endure, to fight on'. it is a great re-occuring theme to the story. | ||||
Chapter 37 A sword spun through the air, whistling as it bore down on its target. Slicing through soft flesh, the weapon embedded itself in an orc’s back. Stumbling, the orc fell to the ground. Immediately, the sword was ripped out of the orc’s back and proceeded to behead two other orcs. Blocking two other swords, the blade was thrust through another orc before the sword’s owner fell to the ground, pierced by three arrows. Manwe grunted as he saw his best swordsman go down. Twirling his sword, the king shoved it into an orc’s face, then turned and disemboweled another. But the orcs seemed to have no end. After battling all of one day and into the next, the dwarves had failed to defend the gates to Amon Ereb and the orcs had broken in. For the rest of the next day, the dwarves fortified any building they could, hoping to hold the orcs off long enough for another ruler to arrive and help them. Manwe had been fighting for days on end now, and he didn’t think they could old off the orcs much longer. Turning, he ran into the building he had chosen to fortify and sent a few archers out to take care of some orcs. Looking to a captain, Manwe asked whether they had gotten news from the other dwarves. No, said the captain. But we know the buildings where they’re hiding. There’s a small group in the uh—what was it…oh yes, in the Buried Sword. It’s an inn a few blocks away. Then there’s another group in the palace, one at the barracks, and another hiding out in the big market in the center of town. The ones we’re closest to are the ones at the inn and those at the market. If we’re going to launch a coordinated attack, it should be with those two groups. Alright. Manwe pondered for a moment. See if you can get a messenger to the inn. Tell the dwarves there to apply the tactics we used at Shalock. Get on the rooftops and fire from them. Once they get to the market, we’ll head for the barracks. We’ll form a solid line of troops and slowly move south. Alright? | ||||
i made a map of Amon Ereb, but it won't let me post it here... | ||||
Nice Momo... nice! Keep up the good work | ||||
It must be on the internet to post it. Just enter the link to the url of the place. | ||||
Chapter 38 A horn blew, signaling the offensive. The sound of the horn was joined by hundreds of voices as the dwarves charged forward through the streets. Roaring, cheering, screaming, the dwarves made as much noise as possible as they bore down upon their orcish foes. They bashed their shields with their swords, pounded their spears on the ground, and raised their voices in a joyous battle-cry as they prepared to avenge their fallen brothers. As the dwarvish warriors passed the market, they were joined by another huge group of dwarves rushing toward the barracks. Smiling, Manwe urged the new reinforcements on and the dwarves charged down the street. A pair of claws sunk into Manwe’s back, and a scream tore from his throat. He dropped his sword as blood streamed from the king’s back. Suddenly, he was lifted off the ground, and the air vibrated with a loud rhythm. Looking up, Manwe realized he was being carried by a nazgul. As the king flew higher and higher over the city, his mind failed him and he thrashed out in pain and anger. Too hurt to realize what he was doing, Manwe pulled out a dagger and thrust it into the beast’s leg. Slashing as far up as he could reach, Manwe cut the leg to ribbons. Swooping down to the street, the nazgul finally dropped Manwe. Tumbling through the air, the king crashed into the ground. The world was spinning, but he could see a frenzied battle around him. Surrendering to the pain, Manwe closed his eyes as his whole body throbbed. Angrod walked across the grassy plain as he watched for any other beings there. He didn’t detect any, so he motioned behind him. A group of dwarves stood from the ground and followed their prince. Pointing to the mountains on the other side of the plain, Angrod said, there is where we’re headed. The city of | ||||
No manwe! Don't Die! Kill the stupid nazzie! Kill the stupid nazzie!!! | ||||
Chapter 39 Ashes blew in the wind, causing the dwarves to cough. Frowning, Angrod crested the hill to see the city of One of the medics stepped forward and shook his head. No sir. That arrow wound is festering, and we’ve had to carry him all this way so far. Angrod nodded and turned to face the north. Motioning, he set out in a jog through the destroyed city. The sky as filled with stars as the dwarves marched, stumbled, and lurched through the tall grass. Although the sky was bright and clear, Angrod resented it, for it brought back memories of his childhood when he lived with carefree naivety in Amon Ereb. He had known nothing of war then, until his father had come back one day when he was seven. His father was wounded, and it was many days before the young prince got an explanation. Soon after, he began training with weapons. Angrod remembered long nights spent out with his friends, watching the stars, hunting, or simply having fun. But when he had been officially acknowledged into the royal family*, everything had changed. Angrod had been torn away from his childhood friends and thrust into the world of politics. He didn’t resent any particular person for it, but he regretted that he had been forced into it. Closing his eyes against the sight of the sky, Angrod shook his head and looked to the front. If he wanted anything to be left of those memories, he would have to double his pace. Yelling in a ho*beep* voice, he urged on the dwarves and quickened his pace. | ||||
Chapter 40 The sun rose over the blood-dyed city of Crouching, Angrod tried to get an inside view of the city, but could not. Shaking his head, he told the other dwarves, leave the wounded here with a few guards. The rest of us will enter the city. If we do not return within a few hours, go to any nearby allied city. It is our only chance. Nodding, the dwarves selected a few guards, and the rest followed the prince. Slithering through the grass, the dwarves stealthily approached Amon Ereb, their swords drawn. Arriving at the wall, they huddled in the shadows and waited for Angrod’s signal. The prince crept along the wall towards the gate and prayed that he wouldn’t be noticed. He poked his head inside the city gates, but saw nothing, so he signaled his companions. Once they were at the city gates, they burst in, weapons at the ready. As they stood under the gates, Angrod heard a guttural laugh, and the figures of orc’s shimmered and then grew solid in the sunlight. Cursing, Angrod thought, I was such a fool! I never even thought about magic, much less tried to detect it. Looking around, the prince saw that the dwarves were surrounded by crossbowmen. Raising his hand, the orc with a guttural voice, who was a shaman, raised his hand and repeated his earlier command. Fire! | ||||
Really heart-grabbing. I want to kill every orc in that evil city with my bear hands! | ||||
thank you! | ||||
End of Part II Beginning of Part III: Refreshment and a New Beginning | ||||
I <3 Kittens! | ||||
Chapter 41 Muted voices. Rhythmic thudding. A static of noise, and a high-pitched buzzing. What wonderful sound. But numb, his whole body was numb. A thousand needles poking through his skin. A breath- air, sweet, sweet, air. Oh, and the feeling on his skin. Black, everything was black. Then, a sliver of light. A ceiling above him, a bed beneath him, and people all around. More sound, in the form of speaking. He’s coming around, I think. Manwe sat up, eyes bulging and bloodshot. As he rose, pain stabbed through his back. gasping, Manwe fell sideways, off the bed and down onto the floor. People rushed around him, yelling, fussing, staring at him. Manwe coughed and then spoke with a dry cracked voice. Where am i? The hospital in Salvation, sir, said someone who looked like the head surgeon. Salvation…Salvation…ah, yes! But then—when am I? Sir, you arrived here with the rest of the survivors last week. They said you’ve been in a coma for three weeks, sir. Who—who else survived? I’m guessing you’re talking about Amon Ereb, right? Yes, sir. The survivors—there were a few hundred, or less. Mostly warriors, though there were a few score civilians. All the high officers were killed, so they were pretty much without a commander. Angrod…there’s been no news from him, right? No, sir. He hasn’t been heard from since Shalock fell. | ||||
Tell me! Is Angrod dead? OMG 0_0 Speak to me! | ||||
It tears me to say this but... Tol Sirion and Amon Ereb are... gone. Some *beep* burned them off the face of the earth. I already have Jaedusica to revenge against. | ||||
beep was a word that rimes with fiddle fit. | ||||
Chapter 42 Manwe stalked through the hall of the keep. Behind him was a group of representatives from each province in his small realm. While he was in a coma, three more cities—those of Revenge, Runes, and New Life—had been built. Down the hall he walked, followed by his procession of city leaders. Sir, mines in Revenge have been collapsing! That was one of the mining overseers. Sir, Odyssey’s casualty count has doubled, and that would be the head of foreign affairs. Surrounded by mishap after mishap, Manwe slowly gave in to the depression. There is nothing in this life for me. My family is dead—I’ve had no friends since I became king. All it is is death, destruction, disease, war, doom, depression…that seems to be all there is to life… Manwe stood in his room, his back to the nobleman behind him. He was staring out the window, watching the city. Sighing, Manwe turned to the nobleman. He had known Finrod since he was a boy, but as they grew up, they had grown apart. Still, Finrod was one of Manwe’s most trusted advisors. He was currently the head noble at the House of Nobles of Salvation. The House of Nobles, in every noldor city, was made up of the heads of every noble clan in that city. Every year, there would be a vote, and whoever was chosen would preside over their meetings and make most of the important decisions of that city. Finrod was perfectly fitted to that job, Manwe believed, and if he could run a city, why not a kingdom. Finrod, I know we’ve been separated since we were childhood friends, but you still hold my favor. Finrod nodded curtly and asked Manwe to continue. You’ve run this city very well, as I’ve heard. So, if you’re in charge of one city, why don’t I give you rule over the other three as well? Finrod, puzzled, inquired, but then—but then I’d practically be king, sir! That’s— That’s exactly what I want. In my will, I have named you my heir, so when I tragically disappear and never return, you’ll take over. Agreed? My lord—what? You—that’s—what? Finrod shook his head, bewildered. Why would you disappear? Because I’m tired of life, Finrod. I’ll die an honorable death fighting some invincible horde on the other side of the world, and you’ll have nothing to worry about. Now, my new king—good bye. | ||||
Is this the end for our charicter? | ||||
nope | ||||
Yay! | ||||
Just wanted to say: I just got the Lord of the Rings Expanded Edition set of dvds. I am going to spend some of christmas break watching them. | ||||
kool. merry christmas, everybody! please don't be offended by the word christmas. | ||||
Oh, and happy holidays, I guess is the correct term... | ||||
no, sorry, but i will not say that. there is a reason the word christ is in the word christmas | ||||
Chapter 43 Under cover of night, Manwe slunk out of the city. He would’ve been afraid to be followed by Finrod’s guards, but he knew that Finrod would gladly take the kingdom. As he crept past the city gates, he shook his head. His face was wet with tears, and he began his journey into the unknown. Trudging through the wilderness, he hoped to find some creature that would end it all. Turning, he could still see the city, which aggravated him. Resuming his walk, he paced across the plains. Then, as the sun rose, he lay down with his head against a log for a rest. Manwe awoke with the sound of running and cries pounding in his ears. Sitting up, he grasped for hi sword and stood in the dim light. Looking up, he realized it was already dusk. Manwe turned around and saw a column of people rushing towards Salvation. This is my chance, he thought. Rushing forward, he threw himself at the attackers. As Manwe ran, a few soldiers split off the main group and sped toward him. As they clashed, Manwe tried to see what race his opponents were, but it was too dark, and getting darker. Smashing one on the head, Manwe kicked another ad came face to face with the last one. It was short like him, but it could be either a hobbit, a dwarf or an orc. It was also stocky, which would be more common in a dwarf or orc. As the two fought, Manwe studied the other’s behavior, but nothing more could he find. The king and his opponent were evenly matched, and Manwe could see barely a hope of losing. Then suddenly, the enemy executed a well-timed, skilled attack which ended with Manwe kneeling on the ground, his opponents sword at his neck. But his adversary lowered his blade and stepped back. Realizing he wouldn’t be killed, Manwe yelled, just kill me! Dropping his sword as if he had had a revelation, Manwe’s opponent rushed forward and knelt before him. Father, it is I, Angrod. | ||||
Yay! Happy reunion... and on the 24th, which to people of the religion of Christianity is the day before the holiday Christmas, where people come together to celibrate the good in this world and give gifts to eachother, as Manwe got to see his son. | ||||
it is actually a celebration of the birth of our saviour, Jesus Christ, who was born of a virgin and 33 years later was crucified on a cross. | ||||
That is the idea that it is supposed to be, but, it has been transformed into a holiday of buying and giving gifts for friends and relatives, comming, actually, from the Roman holiday of Saturnalia, where they celibrate freedom and the absence of Law and Order. | ||||
Exactly. noone knows the exact date of jesus's birth, so they took that holiday and celebrate his birth on the 25th of december. | ||||
The funny part is most historians speculate Jesus was born in the spring or summer. | ||||
Still alive? | ||||
Chapter 44 A year passed, and Manwe, having retrieved his kingdom from Finrod, was the king of a strong kingdom. Without Angrod, however, he would’ve wandered the earth until he was put out of his misery. Now, he and Angrod ruled the kingdom together, father and son ruling as monarchs. Their realm had expanded t contain five cites, and they were growing quickly. Manwe cleared his throat as he sifted through papers. Looking up, he nodded at Eorl, one of his generals. When will we be ready? Within the month, my lord. But is this really a wise decision to attack Ragnarok now. If we attempt to take back our cties, we will be far from our comrades, and may be in the same fix we were in when the cities fell. What if we are attacked again and we cannot get help in time? Manwe pursed his lips and frowned. But my lord, there’s another thing. The rogue alliance, the dark vampires, mystical sorcerers, and warriors of Comenius—they have been preparing for war. Although we have a truce with Comenius, none of us really trust them. And if they attack now, while we’re attacking the orcs, we’ll be caught in two wars. Manwe closed his eyes. Alright. very well, I will address the House of Nobles of each city and they shall make the decision, taking into account all you say. But remember, our brothers, our people, died at Ragnarok, and this is a matter of honor. You may face disgrace as a coward for trying to back out of this. Eorl nodded, acknowledging. I know. And I will accept the consequences. Forward! Through the gap! We must take them here! It’s now or never! Charge!!!!! The battalions of Odyssey rushed through the gates of Gaia, battling their adversaries of Comenius. A week before, Comenius had unexpectedly broken the truce and poured their troops into the city of | ||||
Now this starts to loose its fantisiacal figure of invention... and decends into a great fight for death and glory. If this story doesn't end well, I will want my money back... all $0.00 of it... I hope you make it an epic battle for the fate of the world! I love those! | ||||
It seems Angrod is loosing his time... | ||||
He doesn't have to post everyday and bumping it doesn't always help. | ||||
yes, i don't have that much time... | ||||
Chapter 45 Manwe sat at his desk, writing in a journal. Finishing a paragraph, the king threw down his pen and reread his last few entries. 11/24 middle of era 36 Nodding, Manwe picked up his pen and continued writing. 11/27 middle of era 36 The king was interrupted when a messenger burst in and began talking frantically. Sir, urgent news! Sandoran has betrayed us all! He sent all his armies to ravage our cities, and it seems he is too powerful to be stopped! Manwe stood, cursing, and rushed out the door, motioning to the messenger. Tell me more about it when we reach the House of Nobles; there, you’ll explain to everybody. Sandoran was one of Odyssey’s most powerful kings, and he was a trusted vassal of Queen Jasmina, Odyssey’s leader. Manwe was very surprised and dismayed by this act of treachery, but he kept his head. On the way to the House of Nobles, he told Eorl to marshal all the troops and sent a scout east to spy on Sandoran’s cities. As Manwe burst into the building where the House of Nobles met, he was greeted by an uproar of questions. Gritting his teeth, he prepared to tell the news. | ||||
Ok, here it is picking up... i like the different font for the jornal... it makes it appear old Manwe is getting older... | ||||
the beep was when i said: "life is but a flash-- then after a comma, i said " it is wasted on war..."
just to clarify things | ||||
Chapter 46 Manwe rushed through a field of dead soldiers. Looking around, he realized that they all wore the uniform of Sandoran. There were no other soldiers there. Manwe was surprised at this fact, for he could think of only three ways a battle could end with no casualties from one side. The first two ways, Manwe thought were near impossible. They were that either one side used magic and didn’t let their enemies get near enough to fight, or they were invincible. But it seemed more likely that there was no enemy, and that Sandoran’s soldiers had killed each other. But why would they do that? Manwe thought. Unless Sandoran was insane, he wouldn’t order his armies to kill each other. As he thought and wondered, Manwe kept running toward his goal—Sandoran’s city of Entering the streets of Iron Army, Manwe was startled that they were empty, other than the bodies of more of Sandoran’s troops. Glancing around, Manwe headed toward the keep in the middle of the city. Spread out through the city, but stay in groups of at least four. Capture any citizens or soldiers you see, but beware—I feel that something is wildly out of place here. After his troops split up, Manwe continued towards the keep. His three companions were a magician, an axe-bearer, and Eorl the general. When the four dwarves finally arrived at the center of the city, they were astonished at the number of dead soldiers there. Apparently, there had been intense fighting there. After breaking down the door of the keep, the king hurried up the stairs, looking for any live people. Once the dwarves had searched every room of the building, Manwe leaned against the wall, puzzled. Behind him on the wall was a tapestry and he felt it give as he leaned on it. Turning, he ripped off the embroidery and saw a hole just large enough for someone to crawl through. As Manwe stuck his head in the hole, he heard voices. Sliding further in, Manwe saw that the tunnel ended in a small room. In it stood two humans, one of which Manwe recognized as Sandoran. As the dwarf watched, Sandoran drew his sword and laugh maniacally. It is over; finally, I have accomplished my goal! Now, kill me with this sword, and I shall join my comrades! Shaking his head, the other human cowered before his king. With a roar of rage, Sandoran shoved him at the wall. But then, Sandoran’s visage changed to a calm, almost happy expression. i can’t believe I never thought of that! And raising his sword, he savagely plunged it into the other human’s heart. Sorry, but you’re not needed anymore, Sandoran said with savage glee. I’ll just throw myself out of the highest tower! Turning toward the tunnel, Sandoran gasped when he saw Manwe. Sliding backwards, the dwarf threw himself out of the tunnel, closely followed by the human. Now what exactly are you doing here? Said Sandoran. It’s you! That stupid honorable pig of a dwarf. I remember you… Before Sandoran could pick up his sword, Manwe drew his own and slashed at Sandoran. The human grunted and put his hand to his face as blood poured from the furrow across his cheek. You’ll pay for that, scum! Hurling himself at the dwarf, Sandoran battered at Manwe’s defenses. But before he could break down the dwarf’s guard, Sandoran was thrown against a wall by an unseen force. The dwarf magician walked around the corner, closely followed by Eorl and the axe-bearer. Scoffing, Sandoran stood and yelled, try this! The dwarf magician was picked up and almost torn apart by invisible power. Then, he was hurled at the floor and there was a loud snap as his neck broke. Stifling his disgust, Manwe stabbed at Sandoran’s back. At the same time, the two other dwarves attacked, all from different sides. Two swords penetrated from the human’s chest and back, and the axe was embedded in his head. As the human fell, a chilling laugh erupted from Sandoran’s dying body. | ||||
wow... | ||||
okay sorry about the delay...i had lots of stuff to do
Chapter 47 Manwe stood holding two reports. One was good, the other was bad. He was deciding which to open first. Sighing, he dropped one and read the other. “Sir Dagro reporting from Remembrance. There is a lack of food here, and the famine is spreading through the kingdom. ” Manwe picked up the other paper. “Lord Tulkas reporting from Salvation. Money is pouring in from foreign markets, and our coffers are overflowing with gold.” Smiling, Manwe dropped the papers on his desk and exited the room. Cursing, Angrod spat on the ground. They’re dead? Yes sir, replied the young dwarf. We just got the news, the cities have been burned and there are no survivors. Angrod cursed again. Without Revenge and Runes, the dwarves had no outposts across the river. Alright, alert the troops. We march to Dugren Newi tomorrow. Dugren Newi was a city built on the only northern bridge across the river. It was a fortress, filled with soldiers of any race, all determined to hold the city against their enemy’s attack. But an army was approaching. Hundreds of thousands of troops marched north along the west side of the river, and when they reached the city, thousands would die. Trumpets blared as the eastern gates of Dugren Newi opened. The consistent thud of marching feet woke the soldiers inside and brought them, cheering, to the wall. Fifty thousand dwarves passed under the gate and the hundreds of thousands of other soldiers greeted them happily. The more men they had, the more chance they had to protect their families. Angrod joined the circle of captains in the gatehouse. Nodding, he leaned against the wall. One by one, the hardened warriors introduced themselves. The elf to Angrod’s right was Lord Sky, the viceroy of Odyssey, and the human next to him was Lord Zump, a strong warrior and the richest person in Odssey. On Angrod’s left was an old dwarf who introduced himself as Corothius, and next to him was a human named Dethos. Across from Angrod, an orc lifted her head and faced him. It was Lady Jasmina, tamer of the Wargs and leader of Odssey.
| ||||
Oooo... now we are getting to the good stuff XD | ||||
I havn't read this, but you have the concentration of...I don't know what! | ||||
| [Top] Pages: (back) 1 2 3 4 (next) | ||||
Forum bookmarks Reset views