orcs

We will stand nigh and watch
On precipice high
For the day of The Fall
Whence our path
Bright with hope
Shall before us be scrawled.
On the day of The Fall
I will, with ready eyes-willing heart,
Greet my future in full.

A vision of Amroth-as seen on the last day of summer, his seventy-fourth year.

In the early dawn, three figures gazed over the heights of oblivion. Two laughed.

(Going to revamp this story.)

Dark clouds hung in the air like a vast cape over the world, “A storm is coming…” mumbled a man with dark leather armour at the front of a company of men, he drew his hood up and bowed his head down as a gust of cold wind hit them. A Wall of pouring water was visible rushing towards them. It his them like a thousand icy daggers hit them, nature had no mercy.

"Garn, Shikzâg told me you'd be lazy scum! Get up, sluggard, or I'll have you sent to Sharkey's Pits for Slave-work!" A voice roared.
Morgulg opened his wary eyes and found himself staring into the eye of his fellow companion, Burguz. His first instinct was to spit into the Orc's face and tell him to leave him alone, but Morgulg resisted every urge to do so under the fear of getting throttled.

"Wake up, you bleedin' lazy scumbag!" There was a roar over the din as the Thorny Rose opened her eyes to find herself chain to a post in an uncomfortable standing postion.
"I said wake UP!" Another roar. Then the sound of flesh striking flesh and Carlotta raised her head, dazed by the grimy, dirty fist that proceeded to punch her in the cheek.

Seraile was sat in his comfortable cushioned leather armchair, in front of the roaring fire in the fireplace so big it could hold ten men. His estate, the location of which he gave no one but his closest friends and most trusted men was warm the cold night, he was the only one in, till the captain in charge of the current watch on duty around the fence warned him of an arrival.

Listed below is part of a collection of documents presumed lost by its author. It details a history of folly which its author sought to destroy himself, but, somehow, these documents survived. This history is kept within the library of Rivendell. It is believed that none know who authored it, though it is known that the House of Elrond Halfelven is very secretive of these documents, and would only let the most trusted scholars and council be privy to what they have to reveal.

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