Lord of the Rings - The First Age

[POMC S117]

Spoiler:

Can we use spoilers from now on?

Findorin Turundar brushed through the thorns, ignoring the pain. He sniffed the air. Orcs, a whole bunch of the smelly brutes he guessed. He drew his bow and ran into the bushes. The smell got stronger and more pungent. The sound of many charging feet could be heard, the groans of prisnors discerned and the clattering of swords resounded from the trees.

It was a bright morning, the sun barely dulled by the wispy clouds than drifted across the blue emptiness. Water trickled down a stream, converging at a wide tributary before plunging down a ravine and into blackness, only to resurface miles ahead, near the Lake of Tears.

Never had Findorin seen orcs so close to Dor-lomin. Undoubtedly, they were getting stronger. Becoming more audacious. More daring. Findorin reached the ridge bordering the clearing. Trees skirted the small alcove, grass adn shrubs pushing their way through the muddy ground. From here, the man could see the enemies conglomerating for the night. There was 5 of them, 2 prisoners and a wolf, caged and tied up, almost too many for Findorin to handle.

[Eltee]

The only sound was the whipping of the wind.
It's so beautiful out here... Irriwen Brighteyes of Gondolin thought dreamily. She was sitting beside her little fire on the shoulder of one of the westermost mountains of the Echoriath. She had been following the Cirith Thoronath for two days, and soon she would finally arrive in the vales of the river Sirion. From her lofty vantage point, the jagged grey peaks of the mountains descended into the valley's verdant green. Behind her lay only more mountains, rising higher and higher to the north and the south and to the east. It was hard to believe that the last bastion of the Noldor in Beleriand lay hidden behind those mountains.
A gust of wind put out the tiny, flickering fire. Irri sighed, and pulled her blanket over her. It would be a long day tomorrow.

[mcjordalini]

Spoiler:

Findorin Turundar brushed through the thorns, ignoring the pain. He sniffed the air. Orcs, a whole bunch of the smelly brutes he guessed. He drew his bow and ran into the bushes. The smell got stronger and more pungent. The sound of many charging feet could be heard, the groans of prisnors discerned and the clattering of swords resounded from the trees.

It was a bright morning, the sun barely dulled by the wispy clouds than drifted across the blue emptiness. Water trickled down a stream, converging at a wide tributary before plunging down a ravine and into blackness, only to resurface miles ahead, near the Lake of Tears.

Never had Findorin seen orcs so close to Dor-lomin. Undoubtedly, they were getting stronger. Becoming more audacious. More daring. Findorin reached the ridge bordering the clearing. Trees skirted the small alcove, grass adn shrubs pushing their way through the muddy ground. From here, the man could see the enemies conglomerating for the night. There was 5 of them, 2 prisoners and a wolf, caged and tied up, almost too many for Findorin to handle.

How do I start into this ? Or do you tell the story and bring characters in later on ?

[POMC S117]

Findorin took aim. He planned to hit the vat of boiling acid above the makeshift fireplace that the orcs had erected. Hopefully, it would cause mayhem and havoc. Confusion and surprise won more battles than brute strength alone. Coupled with brains, skill could bring whole armies to their knees. He straightened his bow, inserted the arrow and held him breath, hoping to stop any recoil. He fired. The arrow, made in the typical fashion of Brethil projectiles, zoomed down the ridge, heading straight for the pot. The pot was struck with the arrows full force and swung off of it's spit. It spilt it contents all over the orc tending to it and he ran away shrieking, smoke rising from his bubbling skin.

Spoiler:

Just start it in anyway you see fit. You control your characters. I inly control NPC's, my character and the plot. I also control whether you hit something or not.

[The-Shadow-One]

Renraku and Neptu spar, feint, jab, thrust, deflect, a majestic dance of death. Renraku suddenly stops and so does Neptu, a crow flutters in, carrying in his beck and contract

[POMC S117]

Spoiler:

Odd tense you've used. I like it.

[The-Shadow-One]

Spoiler:

thanks
can you do the Contract reading please it can be anything fetching a object from a cave or something like that please?

[POMC S117]

Nenraku

It has come to our attention that you have skills. Skills that we could use. Kindly go to Amon Ruhd and retrieve a certain artefact. You will know it when you see it. Once you have taken said artefact, drop it off at Brethil. Say that the Crowmaster sent you.

~ The Crowmaster

[The-Shadow-One]

Spoiler:

spelt the name wrong but ok

Renraku reads the contract and passes it along to Neptu. "Amon Ruhd. Brethil. artifact retrevial.. seems easy enough" said Renraku thanking Umbra and taking him on his shoulder. Neptu just nods and agrees. Renraku looks at him and says "lets go then" and they set off for Amon Ruhd.

[POMC S117]

Captain Gutrug prodded the two sub-ordinates in front of him with his spear. "Move!"

The two orcs squealed and jumped forward, drawing their swords in the process. For hours, they climbed the mountains circling the hidden city of Gondolin. Though it was hidden to their eyes, they knew that it was near. They could feel the aura of good that it produced and for that they hated it. Gradually, as they scaled the hostile mountain, the trees became less substantial and more withered. Soon, they were dead. Nothing moved, other than the black leaves that were kicked around by the icy wind.

"Gutrug! Do you hear that?" Cowered the orc.

"Yes. Elves by the sounds of it. Their high-pitched voices of joy." Muttered the leader.

[mcjordalini]

Spoiler:

I dunno if I am gunna do this right, but I will give it a go. :p

Findecáno Helyanwë had heard some noise and clutter from outside of Gondolin. It sounded and felt like evil ... Orcs he thought ! He cringed with disgust. He went to the cupboard in the corner of his room where he keeps set of personalized crafted Elvish armour, and his trusty blade, Nevermore. Findecáno put his equipment on and tied Nevermore's sheath to his sash, and sheath the mighty blade, right before he left his house to head to the gates of Gondolin, to investigate the evil sound he heard outside.

[POMC S117]

Spoiler:

Elves have the best hearing for any race but I'm miles away from you.

You could maybe be in a fort on one of the mountains. Other than that it's a good first post.

[Imp]

::::Dwanum followed through with another hit to the inner cave wall in the mine. Dwanum kept in mind that he has allready finished seventy out of his seventy-two hours for this week. He hit another piece of iron and threw it into the mine cart. He hit another twenty times, sweat pouring down his face as well as all the other dwarves as unlucky as himself. He found a shiny green gem. He never saw anything like this. He looked around and saw all the other dwarves were engadged in their work, but the supervisor passed, he pocketed the gem.
::::He ran home to his village, forgetting about his last hour of the week. As night fell he approached the general store. He had hopes in selling his gem and using the money for a home, or the doctor's healings. He never wanted to go back to the mine and he was scared of the supervisor finding out he took the gem. He was scared knowing not completing his last hour has already lost him his job.

Spoiler:

This is also my first forum roleplay post. If I am ever ruining the game for anyone, please kick me out, it wouldn't offend me.

[POMC S117]

Spoiler:

That's very good. Desperatation can do many things.

Just one problem. Steel is artificial, it should be iron should it not.

[POMC S117]

The overseer inspected the workers. All twenty two of them were there. Wait. He counted again, adjusting his helmet so that he could see better. There were only twenty one. Where was the absconnder.

"Workers, stop mining. We have an escapee."

The miners slowly turned around, secretly wishing that they had been as bold.

[Imp]

Dwanum jumped to the counter of the salesman. Dwanum said "Excuse me sir, I need you here. Do you think I could get a decent sum for this gem? I need an answer fast, I can't telll you why. Just tell me please, be get on with it! Spit it out!" Dwanum was in hysteria.

[POMC S117]

The shopkeeper looked at the Dwarf as if he was demented. Slowly, he inspected the beautiful gem. I can give you... five hundred gold pieces for this." He smiled.

[Imp]

The dwarf, not knowing good prices from bad prices, looked at the gem, and thought of how much money five hundred gold pieces was. "Five hundred times the amount he has now", he thought. He also thought the man could be cheating him. A shadow of shyness covered Dwanum's face. He asked "You, you... wouldn't cheat me sir, is that... Is that enough for a home.

Spoiler:

What is 500 gold pieces equivalent to in oblivion and LOTR. I don't know if that is a good deal or not

[POMC S117]

Spoiler:

Well, assume that it's good enough to get you away from danger of being persecuted and get a house as well.

"No! Of course not!" Yelled the dwarf, aghast at such a shocking accusation. "If anything, it appears to be you cheating me with this stolen item. However, I am kind enough not to blab. Here, take 550 pieces then, get yourself out of here. The overseer is not to be trifled with." He pushed a bag of money into the Dwarfs hand and took the gem.

[mcjordalini]

Spoiler:

Lol, I like reading this Dwarf's story you guys got .. It's good. :p

[Imp]

Spoiler:

Thanks to both of you

"I salute you sir, I promise you that I will never mention your name if I am caught" Dwanum bowed deeply, and sprinted off. He ran to his wife, Shama. Shama is a very pretty dwarf distinguishing the fact of her obesity. She was big from when she led a life of ease, but gave that up to be with Dwanum.
"Wake up! Come!" Dwanum yelled at Shama. Shama asked no questions, put on clothes, and waddled away with Dwanum. They ran into the mountains, where everything was explained.

[POMC S117]

Spoiler:

Your elf story will be just as good. It could be our first big fight. A squad of orcs against you and maybe another elf.

The overseer ran through the cave, yelling for the fleeing dwarf. He picked up his war-axe and searched the whole cave network. He reached the ext.; The exit was a huge, columned room, carved out of the mountain. It got slightly narrower and lower the nearer you got to the exit. He scanned the room. He could see no-one. Defeated, he returned to his mine, feeling cheated and wanting revenge.

[Imp]

Dwanum and Shama decided to stay in the mountains for a few days, maybe enough time to clear the name of the thievery. Dwanum would grow a beard and they would be fine. All it took was patience.

[POMC S117]

The overseer asembled a small band of ruthless barbarians, drunk and greedy for money. They armoured themselves and got axes. They met outside the mountain and set up camp, ready to follow the two run-aways into the mountains.

[Imp]

The two decided to make camp. A place to hide was needed, that or their death. Dwanum wasn't very smart but a very skilled fighter. Shama was weak and a great thinker. They made a pretty balanced out team. Dwanum sharpened his sword as Shama did some thinking, suveying the land.

Shama got the perfect idea. She got Dwanum to gather up as many leaves and rocks as they could...