NationStates Jolt Archive

Lord Mordae sat in concentration, his mind focused on the world around.

He thought back to the old days when he was one of the race of Noldor that came to Endore; where he ended up 'dwelling' as a slave of Morgoth within the depths of Angband beyond Thangorodrim, that terrible three-peaked spire of a mountain reared by Morgoth to protect his holdings. He had been put to work by Morgoth, forced to create evils for his war machine long ago. However, he managed to escape, a feat of great magnificence.
Unfortunately, because he had come out from the darkness, he was shunned by his Elven brethren for Morgoth managed through fear and power to persuade captured foes to act as agents in enemy lands and Mordae was treated no less than as one such agent though agent he was not. Shunned, hated and locked out, he fled into the wilderness of the East where he turned to dark thoughts, dark ways. He eventually sailed across the Eastern Sea into the direction of the Sunlands. In that Eastern Sea (what is now the Pacific), he came upon a great and lost continent where he set himself up as a Lord of the local men, who took him as a god. Their he build up new evil to the present day.

The Doors creaked open. An Elf walked towards Lord Mordae, he was sweating, he was dirty as if he had suffered much toil.

"Have you done as I have asked, as we agreed, Noldor Smith."

Asked Lord Mordae to the Elf.

"Yes, through much toil of work, much searching of wits, much battle with my principles, I have done what you have asked."

"And now you come before me seeking your reward for this great task!"

Lord Mordae smirked with pleasure.

The Elven Smith snapped his demand.

"Release my wife! We are to be reunited! That was the bargain!"

Lord Mordae's smirk became a smile.

"Of course, I am a man of my word. Bring in the Elven Wife!"

Two Orcs carried the body of the Elven Wife upon their soldiers.

"What is the meaning of this!"

Shouted the Elf, with anger gleaming in his eyes.

"I did release her! I released her from her mortal coil and you shall be reunited before long!"

Mordae pulled out a rather ornate and elegant looking pistol, an appeal to his own vanity, and shot the Elf through the head.

"Take them away!"

Lord Mordae was sat alone once again delving into his own mind and making new plans. A knock came from the door.
The door opened.
A rather tall, muscular and very intimidating Uruk walked through carrying a helmet.

"You asked for it, I deliver the dead Elf-Fleshes Ransom before you feet!"

Mordae smiled and was joyous.

"Excellent.

The Helm was forged of some black metal, possibly meteoric iron. It was not rough but as smooth as clear cut and polished diamond. Lord Mordae but his hand upon the surface. It hummed with power, a growl of evil magik. The room began to shake as Lord Mordae, feeling fiercely possessive and protective of the Helm, with both hands he pulled it up into the air and set it upon his crown. His eyes lit up with a fierceness of anger, of malice, of doom. The entire room was shaking. Even the tall Uruk was wailing with fear. Then all the pressure was released. The Uruk fell to his knees. The room shuddered violently but briefly. The mountains growled as the rock vibrated. The waves of the Pacific built up and were released and sent in all directions.
Then it stopped.

Opinions are welcome.

ooc: could i join later with an elf?

good so far...

#tagged for future reading...

Theallas stood in his training room, slowly going through combat routines, suddenly he stopped, his eyes glowing a cold blue. Then, his sword seemed to burst into a heatless blue flame. What the hell was that? That must have been what it was like when Sauron put on the Ring. Theallas turned towards the door, there he stopped as a robed figure walked into the room, “General…” “Yes Mitene, I felt it. It felt familiar in a way, in a dark way. Get the Astra ready, I am going to where a felt the power source.”

Several Minutes later, a small fighter launched away from Thelas, flying towards the stronghold of Lord Mordae.

OOC: Okay, General Theallas is only 1,600 years old, he spent many years in the dungeons of Angband, and when he was released he went somewhat mad. Now that he is recovering (Right now he is completely sane), well, well long story. He was thrown into the dungeons and not killed at the order of Morgoth (Melkor Unchained please don’t DEAT me), after he killed around twenty Balrog, he was an assassin for Lady Sirithil nos Feanor. Well, as I said, after he escaped, he was mad, thinking that the people of Menelmacar had betrayed him, he turned unto a freelance anti-Morgoth agent for about four years. On his last mission, he found a powerful sword, crafted by some of Morgoth’s most powerful mages (there is an argument about whether Morgoth may have helped or not, but the man who truly knows, Theallas, is saying nothing. This sword seems to have its’ own intelligence, it convinced Theallas, in his already unstable mental state, that he had been responsible for a his Fiancé’s death, who had been with him on that mission in Angband, and that if he had been more powerful that he could have saved her. So Theallas went on a killing spree, you see, Theallas sword absorbs souls. When Theallas kills some one or some thing, his sword absorbs that persons soul., and transmits its’ power to Theallas. So for about 700 years, Theallas killed with out remorse, every one, Humans, Elves, Orcs, Skaven, you get the point, this earned him the nick name “Kin Slayer” I won’t tell you how Theallas went back to normal, but he is perfectly sane now.

ooc: could i join later with an elf?

good so far...

#tagged for future reading...
OOC: Well this is an open RP

The Uruk stood outside the door of Lord Mordae's chamber. Screams of agony, madness and hate penetrated the keyhole and the ears of the Orcs could hear them all too well.
1 hour passed.
The room fell silent.
The Uruk knocked on the door and entered. The room was pitch dark.

"Master?"

He asked unsure of the consequences of such a question.

"Huzog, behold your knew master!"

The light suddenly flickered on as the bulbs fired up.
Their was his Master with the terrible helm sat upon his head.
Lord Mordae looked different. His skin was a ghostly pale. His fingers had sprouted claws. His eyes were like a vortex of unlight that dimmed the room. His ears were pointier and longer. A few black (that were once blonde) hairs slid out from under the helm. The Helm covered all of where the hair would be if it were cut short.

OCC: yay i have finally found an elven rp that has not already started yay! This has made my day!

Astarielle Mellondin - High Governor and miliatary tactician of the realm Dark Outcasts

She stood looking out into the dark night where stars once at home glistening like gems on a sea of shapeless shadow. In the past hour something had occured to hide the jewels of the sky from view and the darkness grew greater, unaturally greater. She new something terrible had happened, something undescribingly evil as could do no-one any good. At that this time Astarielle knew not what, when, who or why.

Dor-Mordae Military Control Centre

The computers and various airdetection equipment were all humming and were busy coordinating all airspace traffic over Dor-Mordae, Land of the Dark Shadow. Various human's were busy operating the equipment.
A blip appeared on the radar. The operator got the Lord Mordae on the communicator.

"My Lord, we are detecting an unknown aircraft on course of our land. It is alone."

The Lord Mordae grinned happily to himself.

"Let them in, allow them to land. Have them brought to me. A single aircraft would not dare enter the land of Dor-Mordae with intention to destroy, they would be cut to pieces by our anti-aircraft defences. Keep your guns ready but do not fire unless they fire!"

"Yes, My Lord!"

{tag}

"We need to send an envoy, again the orcish rabble conspires to exploit us", said the Admiral to their officers.

"Elvenkin shouldn't be treated lightly, more now that we have the power and the technology to wage war to all our enemies. This is just another dreaded Lord trying to be more powerful than us. Let's see if he wants to talk about it, or if we need to give him a little lesson. Looks like he's another Fallen, another corrupted elf", said the elven Prince reading the report.

Bump.

Bump once again.

Bump x 3.

The sound of Grav tanks could be heard plainly from all corners of the citites of the Outcasts. Never as many ships has been assembled in all the long years of the reign of the Everqueen Astarielle. Intelligence reports and renaissance had led Astarielle to belive a great uprising was soon to arrive.

On the border of Mordae, an elven hunter crouched in the forest, silently waiting for his chance to enter the nation. Clutching his beam rifle, the hunter waited patiently. When the time came, he rushed in, his rifle extended and ready...

Ozog was an Uruk who patrolled the western borders of the twisted land of Dor-Mordae. He was hungry, his troop of Wargs had been deprived of this weeks ration of manflesh.
The Warg stopped as they were patrolling the edge of a forest that extended all the way to the border of Dor-Mordae. It began sniffing, it could smell something. So could Ozog.
They both licked their lips with delight. The Wargs teeth was coated in drool, the Gun of Ozog was made ready...

The Elven Hunter crouched silently and was about to move on when he heard a crack. Stopping immediately, the hunter glanced around a tree and with his keen elven eyes, the hunter spotted an Orc and a Warg coming closer…

TGI Bob looked over the report. Elven prisoners had detected a new evil presence.
Oh well.

[ooc: Thelas, don't flatter yourself. There's no way on either side of Hell that you killed 20 Balrogs. Aren't you forgetting the Tolkien Rule of Balrogs? No one kills a Balrog and lives. No one.

Gandalf came close, but even he died. If your character was of Legendary constitution, he may have been able to best one. But certainly not twenty.]

OOC:

He was thrown into the dungeons and not killed at the order of Morgoth (Melkor Unchained please don’t DEAT me), after he killed around twenty Balrog, he was an assassin for Lady Sirithil-

*Riotous laughter*