NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This will be the third LOTR RP, as the second one, sadly, died out. I encourage any and all to join as one of the multitudinous nations in Middle-Earth. However, there will be several rules:

1.Be nice to each other. No flaming etc.
2. Try to know something about your nation and LOTR before you join. You can find information at http://www.glyphweb.com/arda/default.htm
3. No Godmodding, and quality RPing. Also, keep things moderately realistic.
4. HAVE FUN!!!

Here's a list of realms, in your first post just say who you're going to be and start RPing:

Kingdoms of Elves:
Rivendell-
Lothlorien- Aust
Mithlond (Grey Havens)- Scandinvan
Woodland Realm/Mirkwood-

Kingdoms of Dwarves:
Dwarves of the Blue Mountains-
Dwarves of the Grey Mountains-
Erebor (The Lonely Mountain)-

Kingdoms of Men:
Dale-
Laketown-
Rohan-Saxonius (Possibly open if he doesn't respond)
Central Gondor (Minas Tirith, Osgiliath, Cair Andros, etc)- Caladonn
Dol Amroth-The Zombies Hehehe
Outer Gondor (Anfalas, Ithilien, Harondor, etc)-
Bree-
Harad-Lerelin
Corsairs of Umbar- destroyed
Rhun- Richardsky
Lone Dunedain (Morwen Penmark)- The United Isles

"Kingdoms" of Orcs, Goblins, and Uruk-Hai:
Mordor- Relative Liberty
Isengard-imported Vermin
Moria-
Goblin-Town (Ruled by Great Goblin from the Hobbit)-
Dol Goldur- Hanseania

Others:
Eagle's Eyrie-
House of Beorn- Fwerengal
The Shire-
Ents of Fangorn- Shakra

If anyone has any other kingdom suggestions, I'll add them in.
Let's get to the RPing!

OOC: Add the Shire, the Ents of Fangorn Forest, and the men of Bree. IC post coming soon.

OOC: Sign me up as Mordor will you?

OOC: Also, feel free to play your nation in any time near the War of the Ring, this doesn't center around that and there is no Ring of Power.

IC: The Tower of Ecthelion, Minas Tirith, Gondor
As Faramir approached the Throne Room, he resigned himself to whatever his father would do. He knew Denethor was close to despair, and hardly in his right mind. He secretly worried about his father's fitness to rule the Greatest Kingdom of Men, but hid his doubts behind a resolute facade as the Mithril-clad Tower Guards opened the age-blackened doors.

The hall was dark, and hid the signs of decay about this still-great room. As Faramir apporached, he could barely make out the now-faded carvings of Gondor at its height, destined to eventually age into nothingness, as there were no carvers known who could replicate the masterpieces.

He trod along the ancient red carpet, approaching the Chair of the Stewards, very tangible reminder of the loss of a king of the Line of Isildur. His father sat in the chair, in front of the Great Gilded Throne of Kings, which had remained empty for more than a thousand years. His father beckoned a gnarled hand. Faramir thought he looked worse than ever, with his eyes bloodshot and his thinning hair white, contrasting sharply with the regal black cloak he had worn ever since his wife from Dol Amroth had died.

He knelt, and when he raised his eyes was saddened by Denethor's steely glare. "Why are you here?" the Steward barked. "Have you completed the conquest of Osgiliath, to come home as your brother fights on in the north?"
Faramir steeled himself for the outpouring of rage that was sure to follow. "No, my lord. Osgiliath remains in the hands of the Dark Lord. Father, we barely have troops to defend the Anduin! We cannot take back Osgiliath, it will mean nothing save more of our noble soldiers dead at the hands of orcs. Soldiers we cannot replace, while Sauron has multitudes of orcs within Mordor."

Denethor rose to his feet, his eyes boring into Faramir. "Get out of my sight! If you cannot equal your brother, at least complete the tasks I assign to you! Osgiliath was once the capital of Gondor! We must retake it from the Dark Lord, whatever the cost! Depart now, and only return when you have done what I have asked!" He sat back down, his rage now simmering just below the surface of those grey eyes.

Faramir bowed once again, and strode out of the dark room, out to the Fountain Court, his heart sinking further even than before. He must do as the Steward said, but he knew it meant certain death for Gondor. And as he reached the Court, he saw two things- first, the White Tree, symbol of Gondor, dead, and barely even recognizably white any more. And then he looked past it, and saw a sight which made him fear for the whole of Middle-Earth- Beyond the Mountains to the East, a dark cloud, heavy with malice, shadowing the lands past the Anduin. He descended from the City and rode out over the plain, with the Shadow growing nearer.

OOC: Yes, sorry, I got all that now. I don't know what I was thinking leaving them out... And I've added Relative Liberty as Mordor. I expect we'll be at each other's throats most of the time.

The smoke of the blacksmiths rose towards the dark skies, like the vile arms of Sauron himself, trying to shake the very foundations of Middle-Earth.
The sounds of marching soldiers echoed throughout the lands, the sound like thunder reaching far beyond the realm of Mordor.
The everwatching, allseeing eye of Sauron turned weswards, towards the realms of the first-born, mighty warriors, an foe not easily vanquished, and the kingdoms of Men, easier to decieve but brave fighters non the less.
Below the black tower an army was gathering, tens of thousands of soldiers, herded like sheep by the Black Nûmeroans, the messengers and herolds of Sauron and the beacons from wich his power would be sent forth throughout Middle-Eart and all the way to the west.
To the south, a small army of Orcs had been dispatched to the men of Harad, simple tools of power, but tools non the less.
Birds, like dark clouds carrying a message of doom to all who would listen, were sent forth westwards, spying upon the foolish mortals and bringing news of their folly and weaknesses to the dark lord.

War was coming to Middle-Earth, and what a great war it would be.

dol amroth plz caladonn

I'd be willing to participate in this RP, not only have i read the books. I also love the films and play the Tabletop strategy game. I'm a LotR-fan you see!
I was the Dwarves in the very first LotR rp back in 2004, but i spent more time moving to the battlefield than anything else, this time I'd prefer an evil side; Harad(I have a great book with a lot of info on these dudes, love the Mumaks), Rhun(Easterlings are nice troops, excellently equipped and powerful) or Isengard(in the tabletop game i like to play with the Uruk Hai as much as i can, they are really good in open war and sieges).
So Caladonn, if you'll accept me into this RP, you may give me one of these three, the one which you want me to have.

Edit: one more thing, dont accept to many people in this RP, cuz thats probably the reason this thing died out the last two attempts: people get inactive, others wait for a reply and give up or forget about the RP. Maybe you should combine the small armies with bigger ones.

OOC: Personally, I'd like to be Rohan.

The great glades of the forest where golden in the everlasting sunlight that clocked the golden realm of Loth lorien, keapt in eternal butey by the power of the Lady.

In the tree laughter reighned as elf-children leapt from feit to feit, running along strips of rope with skill that a human could never match. Lorien was blooming, elves where returning to the golden glades and happyness was abound.

But It would not last, at this moment Haldir, defender of Lorien and his younger brother knelt by the grave of the brothers, both of whom had died in a Orc attack the previous. They did not ask for this war, they did not need to die, but they did so, defending there people to the last Haldir thought as he stared at the freshly lain sods of earth.

As I shall, and all my kin, the darkness is coming again he looked up towards the sky, where, far to the east beyond the sight of mortal men, clouds gathered, there dark shapes c;ustering above mordor ready to strike out. To the south, more clouds lay, the fires of Isringard where burning.

He climbed up from the graveside, and made his way into the trees, scampering up the rope ladders, soon he was running from feit to feit, making his way to the boarder, there where shouts in the wood, shouts and screams as another group of Uruk Hai where destroyed by his men.

they where only a few, remainents from the nights attack who had been seperated from the main group in the confused fighting, and now they died, elvin arrows in there throats.

11 elves had died during last noght, they had been suprised and some had been killed by ambush, but there sacrafices had not been in vain, over 200 Orcs had been routed and killed by the arrows.

The wind wistled through the trees and all middle earth quivered with antisipation of the enermy attack.

i too play the game-and computer game-and have red the books(including hobbit and silmarillion/really hard that is to get going) and have seen al the films and have the extended version hehe

Lord Bulthron surveyed the tussocky grassland for signs of life. A great cloud of smoke billowed up, black against the summer sky. Another village sacked and its people massacred. He could see the trail of destruction the Uruk-Hai had left in their wake. He turned his horse and rode for Edoras, the Golden Halls of the Horse Kings.

Lady Erissloam looked out over the township of Edoras. The people seemed fretful and anxious, more news of villages and towns burnt and destroyed had reached the capital, carried on the frightened voices of the few that had fast enough horses to survive. She ran down the steps, to look among the soldiers escorting the refugees for her lord, the one who had captured her heart, and won her soul. He was not there.

Prince Darahil looked at the mighty swan ship before him. It was his own flagship, The Speed of Darahil, and the men serving aboard it were proud as they could be.

He wondered what was going on in Gondor. He knew that Osgiliath was in the command of Mordor, but his messanger had not returned with a message of help, he had not returned at all.

He had still ordered 5,000 of his best men to assemble to be ready to sail up the Anduin with the speed of an arrow. Still though, he waited.

The army was ready and just waited for the marching orders and the reinforcements from Harad that would surely answer Mordors call. Wolf riders numbering into the thousands, countless of Orcs and mercenaries from both the west and east, addorned with blue woad, weilding axes, round shields and fur cuirasses.
Sauron looked down upon the one hundred thousands man strong army that would embark upon a campaign into the kingdoms of Men, pillaging and burning every village and town until they reached Minas Tirith.

In Harad the messenger spoke to the leaders of the Haradrim:
''Lord Sauron, Lord of Mordor and leader of all free from the Valar's oppression, ask you, the free men of Harad, to join his armies in a campaign to liberate the western people.''

OOC: I've read all the books and seen all the movies, played the game both computer and tabletop.
Imported Vermin, I signed you up for Isengard since that part is kind of necessary. I agree that we don't want too many people, but I included all the people I could think of just in case. I'll eventually close it if we agree that no one wants more people. Also, if you could make out of character posts 'OOC' then that might be easier.
Saxonius and Zombies hehehe, I put you in too.

IC: Western Osgiliath, Gondor
Faramir rode into Osgiliath. He was greeted by a grim-faced sentry who was limping on one leg. However, his gnarled face immediately broke into a smile upon seeing his beloved commander. He saluted as smartly as possible, and let Faramir in.

The cries of ongoing battle could be heard from the River Anduin, but Faramir put on a brave face when he entered the barracks, constructed from ruined masonry in the city. Here were hard men, men who had seen battle but kept going with little hope. Yet even they were gladdened at seeing Faramir. He greeted them, but then immediately departed for the river.

Here things were worse than when he had left. A rudimentary wall had been constructed along the riverbank, and dozens of soldiers crouched behind it, taking shots over the wall when they could, but recieving some too. Several men were erecting a trebuchet on a nearby tower, when an orc catapult stone crumbled it and the piercing cries of the men were unnerving as they fell to their deaths. A man wearing the badge of a captain ran over to Faramir, hustling them both behind cover.

"Captain Eregond at your command, sir," he said. "The situation is getting worse by the day. Our men are constantly recieving casualties, their morale is lower than ever. I fear an orc attack may be imminent."

"Never fear, Eregond," Faramir said. "We will hold on somehow. I must tell you, however, that it will get worse. The steward has ordered us to go on the offensive and take back the rest of Osgilliath."

The color drained from the hardened soldier's face. "Only a madman would do that!" He burst out. "The orcs are getting reinforcements by the day, we cannot even hold on much longer!" Suddenly realising the treason he had been speaking, he bowed humbly. "My apologies, sir. I did not mean to insult our Glorious and Illustrious Steward."

No offense taken," Faramir responded. "If we must do this thing, we should at least try our hardest. Send word to Prince Darahil of Dol Amroth, we shall need every man he can spare. Also send messengers to ask for aid from Rohan and the Elves, they may have troubles of their own, but they may be able to send a few soldiers." With that, he moved toward the wall, and began to snipe at the orccs along with his men. A great war was coming, and this was only the beginning. He only hoped Gondor would weather the tide.

The messengers horse collapsed on the ground before Darahil. The messenger himself was catapulted off the back of the horse onto the ground before his feet.

Darahil chuckled, and relieved the messenger of the parchment he was carrying. He read it, and his face grew stern.

Quiach! tell the men to make ready for sale, we leave within the hour, we have many leagues to travel to Osgiliath

He turned around again, and climbed on board the speed of Darahil and surveyed his ship. Two ballistae at the bow and the stern, with a small catapult resting amidships. It was impressive looking, and impressively well armed. Within 12 hours, he would need the armaments and the men to prove their worth. He only hoped that this fighting would not be in vain.

Quiach looked at the peice of parchment left to him. He read it and sent a messenger riding over all the lands of Dol Amroth. The muster for War was upon the fair land of Dol Amroth. He watched as his Prince sailed away with 5,000 men, and prayed he would see them return

The Tower of Ecthelion, Minas Tirith, Gondor
At the highest point in the city of Minas Tirith, the uppermost level of the Tower of Ecthelion, Denethor swept off the black cloth, and gazed upon the Palantir of Minas Anor. He stretched out his gnarled hand over it, and close his eyes. Images started flooding through him. He looked to the South, and saw Dol Amroth preparing for war. He smiled. Some would die alongside Gondor when the end came. Then, when he looked to the East, he was overcome with dread. A mighty host, Sauron's Greatest Dark Horde, was preparing to march on his lands! A great force of 100,000 orcs would soon be upon them. He collapsed on the ground, uttering a feral cry of despair. The Guards of the Tower came running up in their Mithril Armor, but yelled a cry of anguish as Denethor stepped to the balcony. Looking back, standing upright , the staff of the Stewards clutched in his hand, his black robes billowing out behind him and his hand gripping the railing until his knuckles turned white, his eyes turned to the hapless guards. And what eyes they were-grey orbs of power, and honor, and nobility, and righteousness, but ultimately, of insanity and despair. He turned his fierce gaze on the guards, and said, in a harsh voice crackling with power and hopelessness, "Go now, hide yourselves. You may secure a place as one of the Dark Lord's slaves. The City of Minas Tirith, the Numenorean Race, the World of Men, the Free Peoples of Middle-Earth-all are doomed to millenia of torment under Sauron. I am leaving this world, his Power is too great." With that, he swept up his cloak, and jumped.

He fell down from the Tower, carried on by the winds, clearing the Fountain Court, and falling down, down, down to the plains of the Great Kingdom he had tried to save, but failed. It was now up to others to save this land.

The city was in turmoil. Many had witnessed the Great King's fall to his death, and wailings echoed about the city. Many now thought, more than ever, that truly all was doomed. Word was sent immediately to Boromir, defending Cair Andros, and Faramir, at Osgiliath, to return.

And ever after, for as long as Gondor existed and even further, for as long as any man was left, the story of Denethor, Steward of Gondor, was told, noble man who had given the last full measure of devotion he could to his land- the gift of death.

Sauron smiled, he had felt the Steward picking up the Palantir once again and had forced his gaze towards the dark hordes, most sureley he had gone mad and taken his own life like the weak man he was. Now was the time to strike, while the leaderless kingdom of Gondor was in turmoil and th morale o their men was at an all time low.

The mighty army marched out of Minas Morgul, the new seat of the Black Nûmenoran Azhbrek, in command of the army and all lands west of the Black Gate, second in power only to Sauron himself, and began their long journey towards Osgiliath, the ancient city would be the first to fall before the might of Sauron. With them they carried huge shields of wood, along with enormous battering rams and gigantic catapults. The wolf riders acted as both the van- and rearguard.

the White Gate, Minas Tirith, Gondor
Faramir and Boromir entered the city, side by side. The people were gladdened by their presence, but all felt a terrible sense of foreboding, for the Dark Lord was on the march once again. Everyone was moving up to the Fountain Court. Once there, the ceremony was held. Boromir was named Steward of Gondor. Most of the usual pomp and ceremony was done away with, however, for the people were preparing for war. After the ceeremony was done, Boromir rode out to Osgiliath with 40,000 men, while Faramir sent to scour the countryside in serach for more. But then, as he exited the White Gate, and looked down on the place his father had fallen, he noticed something-a white tree bud opening in the morning light. He shouted for joy, and soon a group of guards had transplanted it to the Court. Cries of rejoicing went through the city, even at this dark time. Gondor had a living white tree again! Filled with more determination and resolve, all worked harder to ensure the tree would grow to be as splendid as its predecessor had once been.

As the dark horde came within range of Osgiliath they set up camps and crude defnses, spiked palisades and deep trenches filled with spears as well as preparing the siege equipment.

In the commander's tent:
''When are the catapults ready for bombardement, captain?'' asked thr black numenoran in charge, the cousin of Azhbrek.

''Midday tomorrow, sir. We have plenty of rocks, pots and tar in the carts and the wood for the catapults are in good condition despite the long march.'' answered a tall and mighty orc named Grumbulz.

''Get those catapults ready at sunset, commision anyone to finish it, but first priority is given to the palisades, they must be ready before any attack can be launched from Osgiliath.''

''Sir, the Steward of Gondor is dead, the city is in turmoil. Surely an attack could not be launched so soon?''

''Moronic orc! Boromir was denethor's favourit son, no doubt he is Steward now. He and his brother Faramir have infinte more spine than their father, an attacl may come when we least expect it. Most surely they are already assembling the troops and preparing to march towards us.
Position the wolf riders on the rear wings, the trolls on the flank and spread the infantry thin. Hide eight thousand wolf riders just beow the horizon, and have them ready to reinforce our lines. Send two thouand orcs to aid my men that are in Osgiliath already, guard those catapults and bombard the soldiers of Gondor both day and night, fire the corpses of fallen foes and friends amongst them to spread diseases and lower their morale. Send small rafts carryig soldiers across the river at nighttime and carry out skirmishes and raids, do no give them a minutes rest or we may fall.''

''Yes sir!'' said the orc, bowed and withdrew outside were he began to commision men to the defenses and the catapults and carryin out his commander's orders.

OoC: If you'll be so nice as to add Dunland to the list of playable factions, I'd be happy to play them in the oncomming struggle.

The Dunlendings were men who marched alongside the armies of Saruman the White, some of which he later cross-bred with goblins to create what he called the "Uruk-Hai". They lived in the southern foothills of the Misty Mountains, and were of old the blood-enemies of the Rohirrim. They were short and swarthy of stature with rich, shaggy hair and would mostly wield large axes in battle.

Saruman uncovered the palantir and placed his hand over it, after a few seconds the eye of Sauron appeared and Saruman showed him the death and destruction his Uruk Hai were bringing to the land of Rohan 'Soon mylord Sauron, Rohan will fall and together we shall take over this Middle earth' Images of Isengards underground breeding facilities were sent to Sauron, showing hundreds of Uruk Hai being bred and armed, ready for the battle that would bring darkness over Rohan 'Edoras will be burnt to the ground and its people will become our slaves' The last images Sauron got to see were those of an Army of Uruk Hai preparing for battle.

The white lady laid her ringed hand upon Haldirs shoulder as he lay resting, still dressed in his armour. He jumped to his feet at once, "My Lady what do you wish me to do?"

Haldir, my son, a messanger from Gondor approches, persued by a multitude of Orcs, in the east the dark power moves, many things are moving, Saruman is assulting Rohan. It is as it was before.

Save the messanger, bring him to m,e then gather our strength and march to Rohans aid, as of yet we are unable to help Gondor, they must survive on there own.

Haldir bowed to her and then ran from the room, pulling on his armour as he ran. He pulled a horn from his blt and blew upon it, a clear high whistle that rang through the treetops.

Elves in armour began to appear as he blew and soon he had a force of 30 or more with him, more joined all the time there bows ready for use.

He reached the edge of the forest and was joined by the patrols that his brother led, he now had almost 150 elves under his command and with his elf eyes he could see the messanger of gondor riding like the wind, persued by 10 or more wargs.

Haldir puled his bow taunt, a slim arrow fitted in it's shaft and waited, all around him other elves did the same, the horseman reached the eves of the trees and wheeled to face the Wargs. His horse was blown and panting and he drew his sword.

"Fire," Haldir whispered in elvish and hundreds of arrows slid past the horseman and into the Wargs, all of them fell with the first shots. The Horseman turned his horse again to face this new threat and Haldir stepped from the trees.

"Welcome, visitor to Lorien, messager from Gondor. Come the lady wishes to see you." He led the messager into the wood.

---------------------
He left him in the royal concil chamber and then left to find all the elves who where armed and trained in the arts of war.

The mesanger knelt as The Lady of Loth Lorien, Galadrial, began to speak, or at least her words found there way into his mind, Welcome, messanger of Gondor, the light of the stars shines upon the hour of our meeting. I know of what you come and the request of your steward is granted, however it shall be some time until we can come to your aid in force of arms.

Saruman must be delt with first and we march to protect Rohan, once that menace is defeated we shall move to aid you, however we can aid you in other ways, your women and children may seek refuge here, once they come within the bounds of the wood they will be safe, along with any others who join them. There is power here that does not sleep and is almost equal to that of Saurons himself, this place shall be one of the last to fall, other then Bombadilis realm.

Now leave messanger of Gondor, there is a fresh horse waiting, take my message back to Lord Boromir and tell hyim that the enermy is preparing to attack across Osgilith, tell him also that galadrials mirror tells her that if Maris Tirth falls then a withdrawal North to Lorien and Rivendale would be best as great power resides there.

As the midday approached Grumbulz returned to his commander's tent.

''Sire, the fortifications are completed, the palisades stretches all around our camp and only two gates have been built, one facing Osgiliath and one pointing towards Minas Morgul. The reinforcements for the garrison in Osgiliath have been dispatched and should arrive soon.''

''Good. Move the warg riders closer to our encampment, but keep them out of sight from Osgiliath, and be sure that our... secret weapon isn't given any food.''

''Yes sire, at once!''

As the orc withdrew Azhbrek returned to the wartable, before him lay a map of Middle-Earth, littered with statuettes symbolizing armies and larger ones, showing important characters such as Legolas, Galadriel, Celeborn, Faramir, Boromir, Gimli, Aragorn and many more. The table was rearranged as news came from the spies in the kingdoms of Men and the black birds that filled the skies. He picked up one of the statuettes, the one picturing Denethor, and looked at it with a wicked smile upon his face before he threw it into the fire. He saw how it burnt, turning black and being set aflame, only fueling the fires of Mordor, before it was just another black piece of wood in the fire, as all kings, and even their very kingdoms, should be set ablaze and their resistance would only fuel the might of Sauron and make his victory even more triumphant.

OOC: i'm pretty sure that we all know who the men of dunland are. p.s i'm also pretty sure that they are under the command of isengard already

IC:Darahil's men were out of site of the city of Osgiliath. He had sent his best scouts out when they had seen the smoke over the horison. They had returned with news that the mighty host of Mordor was camped along one edge of the river, with the host of Gondor camped along the other. After quick calculation, he had waited, and stayed out of sight of both armies. He would need all his skills to prevent them being seen by Mordor. He knew what an attack of 5,000 swan knights and men-at-arms combined could do into the flank of even the most powerful enemy force, especially if it was engaged to the front at the time.

He sent 5 men, men that were adapt at not being seen, towards the camp of Gondor to tell Boromir and Faramir, and he presumed, Denethor, that he and his men had arrived.

Thranduil, the Elven King of Mirkwood, father of Legolas Greenleaf, the same king who had imprisoned Thorin Oakenshield, walked through the forest, frowning. He had heard ill tidings from the south, vague rumors. However, no messenger had yet come bearing more specific tidings.

OOC:
My friends, I would love to join you, but could you perhaps add the island and people of Numenor to your extensive list? It is the island of half-elves where Frode and ganandorf went at the end of the third movie, also, Aragorn's is from there...

OOC:
My friends, I would love to join you, but could you perhaps add the island and people of Numenor to your extensive list? It is the island of half-elves where Frode and ganandorf went at the end of the third movie, also, Aragorn's is from there...
OOC: No, aragons from Arnor, and they went to the undying lands, Numenor was sunk beneath the waves.

Quiach looked around. Over 10,00 militia had already come in to the capital city, Dol Amroth, as well as another 2,000 swan knights from the border watch towers.

He knew this was impressive, but that the hordes of orcs could overwhelm even the mightiest warrior.

Dol Amroth would need allies, and all in Middle Earth would need warning. He sent messengers to all those he expected had not learnt of the attack by Mordor.

Lothlorien, Rivendell, Dale, The Shire, The Grey Havens and Mirkwood all had messengers riding to them. With each messenger instructed to ride to the nearest other strongholds.

OOC: I'm sorry, but we already have plenty of different peoples, and Numenor simply doesn't exist anymore. I consider Dunland a part of Isengard for now, but if you could rp breaking away from Isengard, with imported Vermins' permission.

IC:Western Osgiliath, Gondor
Boromir gazed out over the ruined city, 50,000 Gondorian soldiers alert and ready for battle. The wall along the river had been strengthened with masonry from the many ruined buildings, and all towers near the river were garrisoned, many with trebuchets that were extremely powerful.

Suddenly, Boromir saw five men sneaking up. He recognized them as from Dol Amroth, and his normally grim face broke into a smile as he saw Gondor's heartiest allies. He quickly learned of the Dol Amrothians' position, and was very pleased. "Bring word to your lord that Gondor is ready and waiting for their timely flank attack when the time comes. Also, your ships would be most helpful in defending against the first onslaught across the river. 5,000 men is good, but please send all that you can. My scouts report that Sauron has a force of 100,000, meaning together we have far less. Hopefully, however, bravery and tactics will win the day. Oh, and two more things. One, Denethor is dead, may his soul rest in peace." Boromir lowered his head to his chest in deep sadness, but then brightened. "But also, it seems that we have been smiled upon in our hour of need, for in the very spot Denethor fell, blossomed a new White Tree! Surely this means a rebirth of Gondor. We cannot fail with such resolve. Now, I bid you farewell."
Boromir then walked to the river, boosting the morale of the men as he went. He was gladdened, for they fought with an aura of unmatched resolve, for the fate of Gondor, and the new White Tree. He finally came to the front, and there he found Faramir, fighting alongside his men. Presently, a small orc party was beaten back, and Boromir turned to his brother. "Dark times are ahead of us, but I have an idea. The orcs have built a palisade across the river, using wood from the North Ithilien forest that borders that bank. If you and your rangers can ambush them, we may be able to do precious damage to the foul hordes. Also, you may find more information about them."

"Yes, a most worthy plan," said Faramir. "Orc blood will be spilt tonight. Stay with the men until my return." And, as night was falling, he chose 5,000 rangers, and led them out under cover of darkness across the river. They slowly crept up from both sides of the enemy's camp, staying in the forest but 100 meters from the palisade. Faramir noticed thousands of warg riders behind the camp, they would be a problem, but he was confident in his men's legendary stealth to get them through unharmed. Suddenly, as one, all ranger bent back their bows, after having dipped the arrows in charcoal braziers, and let fly. The flaming arrows arced over to the palisade, and set it on fire. The rangers fired several volleys until the entire palisade was a flaming ring, and then aimed higher and started raining arrows into the camp, no doubt causing the tents and war machines to catch alight, to say nothing of orcs and other foul beasts. Faramir smiled, imagining the mayhem no doubt ensuing inside, and ordered his men to continue to fire. He kept watch on all the enemies through look-outs, to see when the enemy would mount a successful counter-attack.

Minas Tirith, Gondor
Back in the White City, food was being gathered and defenses strengthened, and all able-bodied men trained for war. Another 20,000 were being trained and equipped, but would need more time to be up to the rigorous standards of the Gondorian Army. Rumours abounded, some even talking of The Return of the King, now that the White Tree was once again alive, others saying that tidings were heard of Gandalf the Grey. Messengers were sent to all of the Free Peoples of Middle-Earth, especially Rohan and the elves.

Lothlorien
The messenger, though awed by Galadriel, got back the courage to speak. [i]"Minas Tirith shall never fall! All the people of Gondor would rather be dead than see the White City in ruins. A mighty force of orcs is mraching on Osgiliath, and though we may be able to hold them off for now, it will not be for long.

Hm, I suppose that could be something. Although as you say, thats not about to happen if The Zombies agrees to it.

Perhaps then you would consider allowing me to play the Orcs inhabiting the abondened dwarven mines of Moria?

OOC: Yes, I already have them up. Should I sign you up for them?

permission to sign up as the Ents of Fangorn Forest?

Let there be peace in Middle Earth.....GREENPEACE!

Inside the orc camp havok reigned. The flaming arrows set the palisade on fire, but fortunately they hadn't noticed the trenches. As his tent caught fire Azhbrek rushed out and gave order to get the large shields into position and to pour water over them and the cataults, if any water could be spared it would be used to save the tents.
The shields were in place in only a couple of minuits and the orcs took shelter beneath them.

''Shall I release the beast?'' asked Grumbulz and pointed to a large cage protected by an elite guard of orcs and two shields.

''And reveal our secret weapon? The enemy will run out of arrows soon enough.'' answered the commander.

Lothlorien
The messenger, though awed by Galadriel, got back the courage to speak. [i]"Minas Tirith shall never fall! All the people of Gondor would rather be dead than see the White City in ruins. A mighty force of orcs is mraching on Osgiliath, and though we may be able to hold them off for now, it will not be for long.
Indeed, the wihite citys walls are strong and impentrable to all but the most feice weapons, they shall last long, and will not fall unless some evil design undermines them.

But there will be much death and fear towards the end and I offer your people sanctuary here, so that if it does fall, they have a haven and so no women and children are killed or captured.

We shall aid you-but it shall take time.

Why yes Caladonn, that sounds like some jolly good fun. Please sign me up as the Orcs of Moria.

Quiach looked about him in wonder. Overnight, the numbers of men had doubled. There were now 5,000 swan knights with 10,000 men-at-arms and over 20,000 militia.

This was good. He knew that there would still be another 500 swan knights coming in, as well as irregulars. With this in mind he decided to leave the defense of Dol Amroth to these men, and set off with his force, sending another 5,000 men, and 1,000 swan knights up river to aid Darahil. He followed his orders, and set off by sea, sailing for Umbar

North Ithilien, Gondor
Faramir ordered his men to continue firing. They had arrows for a while yet, and continued to fire into the camp. Faramir had realised that a trench surrounded the camp, which could prove a problem if they chose to attack. But for now, the hail of fire arrows continued to rain down.

OOC: Shakra and Hanseania, I've put you in.

IC:North Ithilien, Gondor
Faramir ordered his men to continue firing. They had arrows for a while yet, and continued to fire into the camp. Faramir had realised that a trench surrounded the camp, which could prove a problem if they chose to attack. But for now, the hail of fire arrows continued to rain down.

Lothlorien
The messenger replied, "We will not let our wives and children flee from the Dark Lord yet, Minas Tirith is still safe. Nonetheless, we ask for your aid as soon as possible. We cannot hold out on our own for that long."

You need the Dunedane (not sure if thats how you spell it), the Dunedane are Aragorns Kin. I'm not sure how this works, but I'd like to be them.

OOC: Rangers from the north were the Dunedain, but as far as i know theres only about 1,000 of them left all over middle earth

Help will come, once the evil in the north is defeated, if you can defend yourselves for month or more then we shall aid you.
--------------------
Haldir had little trouble finding himself troops, most elves where trained in war and defore long he had around 1000 elves with which to march to the aid of the Rohirrin, thios was not including those he had left behind to defend the golden wood.

They set out at dawn on the next day, armoured oin the golden armour that there forefarthers had worn. They would march light and fast covering the ground leading to the captial in the Rohirrin by dusk.

OOC: Can I be the Harad?

I shall be a gondorian ranger under faramirs command and patrol the eastern border of ithilian

what are we meant to do now

Flaming arrows flew over the trenches some falling short of tatrget but never the less some hitting. We are running out of arrows shouted a man what are we going to do when the arrows are spent. i dont fancy fighting a troll or a horde of raging orcs

OOC:the rangers are already under cladonn's command as gondor. Richardsky look at the list of nations at the start of the thred and choose one frm there, dont just be an individual man because u wud have to do what someone else said, and its a bit pointless

IC: Darahil looked up. To his right,coming upriver were some more swan ships, a messenger on horse back had already told him their strength.
He no had 4,000 Swan Knights, 2,000 archers and 5,000 men at arms to charge the flankof the Mordor army
To his left he culd see a glow as iff a thousand camp fires were burning. He sent a messenger to Boromir to find out what was going on.

Sorry i thought you could act as a colenel in that case i will choose the corsairs of umbar

On the Main ship of the corsairs
Everyone is ready sir and the weapons have been primed
We will be there soon have the scouts found anything
Captain Thraken replied
They havent returned but the villages we pillaged report of a concentration of Gondorians somewhere on the river

Be ready then and do not fear
Surprise is on our side

How do you mean sir

You'll see very soon replied captain Thraken a smile curling
Oh you will see

OOC: Is that the river Anduin and is the concentration of Gondorians, Dol Amroth??

IC: Quiach looked around him. Their fleet was within sight of the harbours of Umbar, and as of yet, none of the foul corsairs had come out to attack them. He wondered what was going on...

South of Osgiliath: Darahil knew what he had to do. In preperation for the next mornings assault, he would have to get all of his troops to the Gondorian side of the river. He set up camp there, and then gave orders for look-out posts to be set up on each of the fords south of Osgiliath. There was one nearly 30 leagues away, yet he still had it guarded by fast men on fast horses.
His many years soldiering, and fighting his way up to where he was, even if he was the Prince, he would not have been General in chief of the armies of Dol Amroth if he had not been good.... he had gained many things, but the best by far was his soldiers sense, a gut feeling whenever an attack was imminent or some trap was to be sprung, he did not like it....
He set up his fleet with half facing towards Osgiliath, the ballistae pointing north. He then had the other half of the fleet, including his own flag-ship face south. He had all the balistae on all the ships taken to the bow, so any enemy coming up river would be faced with 80 flaming-balistae bolts simultaneously, and then be rammed by twenty ships. His own catapult was also loaded onto the bow, and its great scoop was loaded with pots ofAlchemical Fire, that turned to flame the instant it hit air. Any army mad enough top attack his position would most likely fail.

OOC: Jenrak and Richardsky, you're added to the list. Actually Richardsky, if you do want to play as Gondor, outer Gondor is still open. Sorry, but I don't think I'll allow the Dunedain. Aragorn and other heroes may appear later, but not yet.

IC:Western Osgiliath, Gondor
Boromir sighted the fleet of Dol Amrothians, and smiled. the forces of men would hold out. He looked towards the river, and saw his 50,000 men poised along the wall and in the towers, ready for an attack but resting so that when it came they would be in tip-top fighting shape. Boromir looked farther across the river, and saw flames arcing from the enemy camp. He sent a messenger to the Prince Darahil, asking for a meeting before the battle.

Argh'bahk sat aboard his chair, weary from a hot day of travelling. The men he had carried along with him were tiresome, and they had traveled for many miles and many days to see the frolicking terrain fo middle-earth burn under the might of their ally, Sauron, lord of the realm Mordor.

He sat there, as the hoofbeats of sleepy oliphaunts shackled in his ears, and his drinking bag was not longer fresh with water nor liquid to quench his everlasting thirst. He pulled it again, and his bag splurged a large bevy of water, as he drank it down greedily into his throat, when the sun beated down upon him strongly, and he missed his homeland so.

For much time had they wasted travelling through the broken tattered realms of Gondor, and much time had they wasted searching for the road. Argh'bahk was tired, and he was more weary than his fellow soldiers; they had a nice shade as the oliphaunts traveled when he had to bear it out in the sun. He sighed again.

He pulled out his map, and he drew out a long spiked knife, and drawn an invisible line from the long edge of the lower map to the central areas. From Harad to Near Harad, we are. He thought to himself, as the groaning men arond him woke up from their much needed rest, some picking up their axes and swords while others picked up their bows and arrows.

A surprise invasion was not their job, only to reinforce the armies of Mordor, and they were prepared to do so. In days, when they traveled, would they truly enter the realms of Gondor, and then, in a swift tide, they would have to take the eastern road towards the edge of Dagorlad; and then into Mordor, the hands of Cirith Gorgor.

Reaching for his flask like pouch again, he tried to take another delicious sip of water, but it was no longer available to him, there was no more water left. "We move now!" He yelled loudly in his voice, as the cheering men jumped onto their oliphaunts, while others walked carefully alongside the massive multi tusked beasts, their ears flapping obediently. He tugged his right hand, and it pulled an earing, forcing the large creature to move.

Reserved for post later on. Too tired now. Going to bed.

Sleep well.

Western Osgiliath, Gondor

Boromir heard news from the South. The Haradrim were moving, the 40,000 reinforcements now trained to perfection, instead of coming to reinforce his troops, would have to defend the southern Anduin along with Dol Amroth. Fortunately, Faramir had many skilled rangers posted in Southern Ithilien, they would diminish the hordes somewhat.

In the early hours the army of Uruk Hai marched out of Isengard, thousands of Pikemen, swordfighters, some ballistas and bowmen. Ahead of them moved Shakru and his Warg-riders, it was their task to find the Rohirim and cause as many casualties as they could, while at the same time slowing them down so the main Uruk Hai forces could catch up with them.
Shakru receives help from Crebain, large black crows that served as Sarumans spies. They informed him and his forces of the enemy positions, and the coming of possible support. If anyone moved around in Rohan then Saruman would surely know it.

OOC: Who's rohan?

OOC: Saxonius. It's on the first page.

The corsairs are on the river moving ever closer to the Dol Amroth ships

We can see the ships sir.Should we not be firing the ballistas

Wait until we can board, or our weapon won't work

May I ask what the weapon is sir

The men are curious aren't they. Well tell the men that the new weapon involves the device on the front of the ship.

What, that is madness sir we will never be able to break its armour.

With the new plating we will, you will see

Do the other captains know what to do sir

Of courseI am not stupid enough to not tell them what to do

Another day awaits them, as they rumbled up their oliphaunts and sharpened their axes, walking along broken terrain towards Middle Earth and the realm of South Gondor, a desert and debatable land; soon to be theirs once Sauron has his hands on it.

Argh'bahk stood atop his greatest oliphaunt, as he commanded the legions of Haradrim to march forwards, as they finally reached the Near Harad towards the broken Gondorian road, their trails smoking along the way, leaving a great trail of destruction; it the way of the Haradrim.

OOC: can anyone clarify if thats a bit of a god-mod?? being able to move up river and go straight past the watchers on the fords without getting noticed even tho ure in bloomin' huge ships??

IC: Each of the twenty ships facing downriver fired a full volley. The alchemical fire that had been poured acroos the mighty river anduin was alight, and a wall of flames sprung up in front of the ships of the corsairs. It could not be put out, until it burns itself out after a few hours. The balistae were taking a heavey toll, they fired straight through the wall of flames and smoke, and impacted on the bowsprits of the corsairs ships.

Archers and Swan Knights raced into position for a boarding manouvre along the bank of the Anduin. Each of the 2,000 archers had 1 flaming arrow, and each fire arrow was put to bowstring and pulled taught.


Quiach was alerted by a shout, he had been right. From up ahead was a massive light as if a fleet was burning. Having not been opposed by any ships of Umbar, he had turned about and sailed for the Anduin, leaving one third of the men and ships under his command to take and hold the first fortified position along the shores of Umbar that they could. Now there was three-quarters of the military might of Dol Amroth surrounding the ships of Umbar, which could not go forward through the unnatural flames of the Alchemical fire, nor back through the ships coming at full sail upriver. Along one bank was a huge boarding party. There was one small hope for the corsairs however, they could attempt to abandon ship and make it to safety on the Mordor side of the river. Or they could be burned to death.

OOC: Richardsky, that was a godmod to assume that your ships could go directly up the Anduin to Osgiliath, when I aleady posted I had 30,000 men along the riverbanks defending. However,The Zombies hehehe that was also a godmod, and one godmod doesn't really deserve another as that just continues the fight and ruins the rp. I don't object to your troops marching up or your men shooting, but saying how many hit his ships is pretty bad. I'll let you two work this out; although there are Gondorians nearby, they won't respond yet until you come to an agreement.

OOC: Until then, I'll rp my Haradrim...

IC:

Hoofbeats rumbled, and trees shook under the swaying movements of the oliphaunts, as loud shouting was ever coming from the masked mouths of the Harad archers, as the axemen, strong and valiant, great and powerful, stood amongst the oliphaunts, and cautiously walked around them, but still followed.

For these creatures were large, many tusked animals, and they had great strides that covered vast areas of land, their hard skin nearly impenetrable by simple arrow fire. Only the bravest or most skilled could be riding the heads of these tame and yet powerful creatures, and Argh'bahk was thankful to be both, as he was riding the greatest, the largest of the Oliphaunts that they could muster, an obedient creature he called Dushmakt.

Walking ensures strength, but it was torturous, as they walked along the edges of the forest, reaching a gap in the many trees for them to complacently find shade. But moving on they had to continue, and moving on they did, unaware of the many dangers that the forest could hold. Still, as his kings at home had commanded of him, Argh'bahk was to lead the batallion to Mordor, where he would be greeted by an army so vast and powerful, that no legion on Middle Earth could battle and win against.

He could see it clear in his mind's eye; a vast sweep of destruction, and a great roar of strength, as victory ensued all when the last tattered remnants of the enemy flees without doubt, towards the sea, where they would be driven away...and Harad would gain the recognition it deserved. Dreams faded, and reality returned. A rustling in the leaves and the wind blowing on the trees were all he heard, even as they moved on with the growling of Dushmakt's stomach.

The rangers looked out from the cover of the trees, upon a mighty host of Haradrim. Still, they knew their duty to Gondor, and at a signal 5,000 flaming arrows flew straight and true towards the vile minions of Sauron. The rangers hoped that the fire would cause the Oliphaunts to panic, and continued to fire volley after volley into the hordes.

A surge of arrows out of nowhere flashed upon them, as the men yelled around frantically to find out the location of these hidden arrow's archers, but they could do so little, as the massive oliphaunts whimpered and stomped, at the sight of the glazing fire.

On instinct, they ran forth towards the blaze, attempting to quell the fire that burned around their men, but many Haradrim were being crushed under the giant hooves of the Oliphaunts, as more were scattered across the forest, and many flew into the canopies of the trees as the tusks ripped them apart. Argh'bahk stood up tall and mighty, as the arrows around zipped forwards and back, and the fire spread. Yelling furiously, in his native tongue, he issued commands for discipline from both beast and man.

Dash marrunkah! Narakah! Dash! Dash!

As the soldiers of the Haradrim, still at panic, they had to follow the orders of their leader, and their almighty General. Lining up, and looking around, as their fellow comrades fell ablaze, and the Oliphaunts were under great stress as many fell, and even more crashed into their friends, as the archers atop the towers of the Oliphaunts fired blindly at the trees, hoping to hit the enemy.

Dash marrunkah! Narakah! Dash! Dash!

Argh'bahk yelled again, as he geared his men to pick up their pace, and whatever was left of his legions took stead fast for the sanctuary in the Land of Shadow.

OOC: Don't let Argh'bahk die yet. I want him to be killed in a giant kickass battlefield, like all real men do ;)

Within Fangorn Forest,the trees rustled.If any elf had entered Fangorn,they would have felt a dormant violence slowly arising,eons upon eons of anger,an oppressive atmosphere in the forest.

Treebeard slowly took council with his Ents.The Ents of Fangorn Forest were all that were left of the mighty Ent race,a remnant of their once vast power.Now that the Entwives had left,they could no longer grow in strength,and Entings were no more,though Treemen,Treantsand Huorns still grew,albeit ever more slowly,even as Ents became dormant,for the race of Ents as a whole were a dying race.Still,they would avenge themselves on the filthy ones,the black-skinned,sun-hating,nature-defiling bararum.The Orcs.

Treebeard slowly,ever so slowly told the Ents of what Gandalf the White had told him,of the treachery of Isengard and the ruin visited upon the forest around it.Of the treachery if Saruman and his vile orcs.Of the war that surrounded Lothlorien,ancient forest home of the elves.Of the tide of orcdom that surrounded the Rohirrim and threatened to overwhelm them.Too long had the Ents been actionless,content to wait out the events of the world around them.Too long had they been ignorant.Now,the time was at end.

The corsairs uncovered the remaining ballistas and unleashed arrows of fire into the Dol Amrothians. But casualtys were high on the Corsairs side and they were not faring under the constant hail of fire.

Sir what should we do. Shouted a soldier

Tell the men to try to get to shore The boats are to be burnt and sailed towards wherever this damn hail of arrows is coming from. Even if we do die the boats can take alot of damage on the Dol Amrothians. With that he took a flaming arrow out of the floor and set the sails on fire.

In South Ithilien, the rangers suffered some casualties, but they knew they were fighting for the good of Gondor, and every vile mumak or haradrim warrior they slew would not go on to fight their comrades, and so the flaming arrows flew thick and fast.

OOC: Don't worry, he won't die yet...

Along the Anduin, Beregond, Captain of Gondor, noticed a great flame far away. Wehn he sent his scouts to investigate, they came back and said a great naval battle was happenning between the Dol Amrothians and the Corsairs of Umbar. He cursed, and beckoned to his 10,000 men to move out. He also sent messengers to his fellow captains' forces, so they could come if the going got rough.

Soon, his men had reached the banks of the river, and formed a battle line. It seemed as if the corsairs might attempt to land, so Beregond formed a wall of 5,000 spearmen and swordsmen in front, protected by the riverbank, with his archers behind, unleashing 5,000 shafts of hell into the corsairs.

With a great groan,the ancient Ironwod Ent,Thrakthun'tyul'ole'.......(for the purpose of mortals,let us simply call him Thrakthun,for Ent names are as long as the years they have lived)...Thrakthun led the legion of Treemen,twice the size of trolls and with 3 times their strength,all 600 of them,as well as unnumbered Huorns and trees,herding them in the direction of Lothlorien.It was here that they would make their first move in the great conflict.The Ents numbered few,but their effect would be great,even for such a dying race.

They sped across the plains of Rohan at great speed,shadow cloaking their movements as a palpable aura of doom and fury spread before the raging army led by Thrakthun Firebane Trollcrusher,Chieftain of the 'Orcblood' Ents.

His mighty voice audible among the great singing arising from the marching army,a roar issued forth from within his bowels,a howl that distantly echoed from the mountains.A howl that would have shattered the skull of even the mightiest Uruk as it shook the Earth.It was a howl of doom.

In their wake,they left a path of churned earth,the only sign of their presence.

Haldir looked up as the Ents began there great march, in his mind the voice of The Lady of Lorien began to speak to him, You are not need here, march south and fear no darkness. He raised one hand and ordered his men south to Gondor.

On the second day of there march they reached Maris Tirith, they could hear the sounds of a great battle towards Othgilith and sourght insofrmation in the city.

Haldir led his elves to within a hundred paces of the city walls and then stepped forward himself, banging on the great gates. "I am Haldir of Lorien!" He yelled, "Who commands here?"

The burning boats sailed into the fleet of dol amroth.Some being blown of course but some reaching there targets, hard metal prows slammed into thick wood as the corsairs abandoned ships swiftly smashed into the ships. Many had been sunk along with there crews and captain Thraken knew that he was fighting a losing battle. Knowing that he could not win he ordered his men to form into defensive lines so that even if they all died they would take the souls of gondorians with them.Arrow after arrow flew towards the enemy while ballistas shot at them from the dol amroth ships. There courage remained steady and only death would break it.

Charge shouted the captain drawing his scimitar. Truly you shall be rewarded in heaven for befelling any gondorian soldier. With that the men shouted as they ran into the gondorians defending the banks of the river. Shafts of arrows flew at them but they were not to be stopped. A crash of armour and sword was heard as the Corsairs reached the gondorians and cries of Hatred sprung in the air.

Darahil stood on the prow of his mighty ships. It was one of the fifteen remaining ships facing downriver. Luckily at the last moment his men had jumped aboard the corsair's ships and severed their tiller ropes and releived them of their sails. Although 3 rams had hit his ships single one, there was no momentum behind the blows. However 5 ships had gone down, but as the corsairs ship had come so slowly, most of the ships crews were alive. The five ships had set on fire, and after the balistae were taken onto other ships, they were sent to block the river of any more corsairs burning ships. They drifted slowly down-river, bow to stern blocking the river completely

The Swan Knights had been given orders to charge, and smashed into the ranks of the corsairs. Their charge penetrated deeply and many Corsairs fell, but slowly the charge ground to a halt. Now the knights came into their own. Ever since they could luift a sword they had been trained with one, and they took a heavy toll. However since only 500 of them had charged, they were soon forced backwards into a ring of 300. They were holding their own, but only just, and they began fighting their way back towards the Gondorians.

The balistae on the ships fired their last salvoe, and the small catapult flung 20 rocks the size of men's head into the Corsairs. Then the 500 Swan Knights that had got onto the Swan Ships charged the rear of the force of Corsairs, with Darahil at their head, weilding his Numenorean longsword, passed down for generations, with the skill befitting a prinbce of Dol Amroth.

On the shores of Umbar, the 300 Swan knights and 2,000 men-at-arms and 2,000 archers were fortifying a great castle, and augmenting it's already fearsome defences. They had taken the place with ease, as there had only been a garrison of 50 old men.

Ishaq slammed his heavy mail-clad fist down on the surface of the grey stone table, the sound bouncing off the slanting walls and domed ceiling of the council chamber. "What do you mean they ain't found anything yet?!" he growled, his rasping voice carrying with it the unmistakeable baritones of bloody murder. The two newly arrived runners took a few steps backwards, cowering against the far wall as Ishaq's face convulsed into a mask of crimson rage.

Ishaq's face in question was one of a middle-aged orc who carried his old scars and worn features with dignity. Its skin was as grey and unyielding in colour as the stone around it, its main dominating feature being a long, thin nose, hooked like the beak of a bald-headed eagle. A pair of bulbous yellow eyes muscled for attention as well, along with an angry rash which had sprung up and covered the left cheek, a multitude of sores and puss-ridden boils flourishing in its wake. Ishaq Yrmgren wore the marks any canny chieftain of the Yrmgren tribe would have, and he wore them well.

"How come none of you gob’s are capable of pitching in even one day's good work, you maggots?" he grumbled. "But chieftain, we have searched every nook and cranny of the upper armouries, an' they're all looted clean!" one of the two runners, favouring his left leg slightly, spoke hastily "There ain't anything more ta bring up from there..." Having said this, the runners straightened up a bit, their chain shirts rustling slightly as the waited for their chief's reply.

"Blood and troll dung" Ishaq said at last, after apparently debating with himself "We'll have ta fire up them old forges then, try an' make use of them as the dwarves once did” Send some of Lugburz's boys down ta the old smithy's and mine shafts and have 'em get back here with a report faster than they can make a stink!"

Bad things were afoot; Ishaq had felt it for many months now in his crusty old hart. Bad things needed beating, preferably with a good blade in your hand or a good spiked club in both ... Either that, or a darn quick running from - especially if it was anything like the Great Fiery One.

He shuddered to himself as the two runners took off once more, whatever it was that was brewing, it couldn’t be worse than the Great Fiery One.

Dash vangiard saruun, dash vanya ares! Urgun itak!

Was the yelling of Argh'bahk's angered roars, as his oliphaunt reared from another flame and his soldiers were scrambling around trying to find the enemy's sources. "Aim for the trees!" He shouted in a frezied roar, as his voice seemed to shake the hearts of his men; so strong and powerful he was,and they began to march, as the archers walked along them and fired their own arrows of fire into the glazened woods, setting fern and tree abalze.

Dash vangiard saruun, rann makt makt! Urgun itak!

Another scream from Argh'bahk issued, and his men lifted up their shields imperiously, as many still fell, but most linked together to form a massive dome, protecting many body parts from harm; although they were still weary and tired, but they once again marched on. It was the way of the Haradrim, to face such burden. To fight an archer with a pike far off was foolish, so the pikemen had nothing to do but march, and despite the considerable defense, many still fell, and the archers of the Haradrim, atop their precoscious abode-like towers on the lumbering oliphaunts, sleeted flaming arrows into the woods, aiming at the source of the flaming arrows coming out.

For the corsairs of Umbar shouted thraken leading his elite after any of the knights foolish enough to try and escape. He held his scimitar high so everyone could see the power of Umbar. Slew them down shouted his right hand man, Harastii. We are not to die yet we must hold against them. Fight for the people you love we cannot lose. We have them. Do not allow them to form up.

Thrakthun stomped the orc into the ground,while crushing the orc in his hand with a slight squeeze.Arrows deflected of the thick bark of his skin or were stopped by his cover of leaves.Fire had little effect on him,for being an Ironwood Ent,their thick bark filled with capillaries of water running through it rendered him effectivly flame retardant.

Within the forest,the trees whipped and flailed as they cut through orc skin,leave cutting through skin,great boughs shattering hard steel,roots reaching up from the ground to drag the orcs into the embrace of the earth.Within the melee,the orcs tried to find a place to escape,only to run into the Treemen or the other Ents,It was a slaughter,the axes of the orcs ineffectual against the Ents.

Redleaf the Ent was pulled to the ground,where a horde of orcs leapt upon him with axes and began to chop away.With a roar of fury,Tharkthun brought his fist down upon the orc horde,sweeping them away in a shower of blood and gore as uruks disintegrated under the force of the mighty blow and roots arose from the ground,impaling the orcs around Redleaf.

Rising from the horde,sap bleeding from hundreds of gashes in his trunk,Redleaf sawed apart the orcs with his thorned creepers,,his rooted feet fixing him into the ground,an immovable tower that wrought vengeance upon the orc kin around him.A mighty Uruk captain leapt towards him,only to get caught in mid air by Redleafs thorned creepers,where they whipped around his limbs and other extremities,before moving rapidly in a sawing motion that cut through leather and iron,blood geysering from the uruk even as it was crushed into a ball of gore and flesh that was promptly thrown into the horde.

[Treebeard]
Treebeard moved stealthily in the night,leading the army of Ents,Huorns and trees that lay cloaked in shadow,following the rivers course towards Isengard.With root against rock and bark against iron,the primal power of the forest against the machinations of Isengard,Treebeard would meet Saruman.

From a distance,if one listened closely to the wind,one would have almost heard the stealthy marching of the great army.The Ents had arisen from their long sleep,and those who opposed them were doomed.

Minas Tirith, Gondor
The White Walls of Minas Tirith Glistened in the sunlight of a new day, and the clear ringing of silver trumpets was heard from on high at the Tower of Ecthelion, bringing hope to a redoubtable people. Essethar, Steward of Gondor in Boromir's absence at the front, was an old man of the Tower Guard, picked for his unswerving loyalty to the old steward and his wise judgement. It was a sad reflection of the times that only the old were left at home, the young men all fighting orcs and corsairs. Essethar rode down through the seven tiers of the city, and his heart was gladdened as he beheld rank upon rank of elves, come to fight for the Freedom of Middle-Earth against the depredations of Sauron. He rode out through the gate, his lined face grim, but regal. He came to Haldir, and adressed him:
"Great is the hour of need in which Gondor now finds itself, and it is good that the old alliances still hold. As once we fought together on the slopes of Mount Doom, so our peoples will again, in the defense of all that is Good. Gondor welcomes you. I apologise that our new Steward Boromir is not here to greet you, but as you can hear, the battle at Osgiliath rages and no end is in sight, indeed it is said that the orcs have not even launched their main offensive. I bid you, after enjoying the hospitality of the White City, to march with all speed to Osgiliath, so that we may present a united front against the darkness. May the Valar lend us all the strength they can muster."

The River Anduin, Gondor
"HOLD THE LINE!" shouted Beregond as the tidal wave of Corsairs descended upon his soldiers. Safe beind the ranks of pikemen and swordsmen, the archers let loose several volleys before the warriors of Umbar closed, then switched to sharp-shooting to take out individuals. The ten-deep ranks of pikemen held fast, their shields locked together and long spears of destruction wreaking havoc, skewering several ranks at a time. The heavy armour and well-forged weaponry of the Gondorians, to say nothing of their training and resolve, meant that few perished despite the ferocity of the enemy attack. As soon as the lines were engaged, Beregond ordered his 2,500 swordsmen to descend on the near flanks of the enemy army, their greatwords slicing through armour, flesh and bone alike. Meanwhile, a message arrived from Pharazor, the nearest other Gondorian Captain, saying that his 10,000 men were very close and would be at the battle soon to help the beleaguered forces of Gondor and Dol Amroth.

Southern Ithilien, Gondor
The rangers of Gondor kept moving as they rained down flaming death upon the Haradrim, staying away from firey portions of the forest and keeping up with the hated foe. Many targeted the Mumakil, attempting to both take out the archers on top and burn up the howdahs, while at the same time panicking the beasts into trampling their own troops. Other sharp-shooters targeted the pikemen phalanx, aiming for feet and faces showing around shields, trying to take out the outermost enemy soldiers to expose the inner ones.

Minas Tirith, Gondor
The White Walls of Minas Tirith Glistened in the sunlight of a new day, and the clear ringing of silver trumpets was heard from on high at the Tower of Ecthelion, bringing hope to a redoubtable people. Essethar, Steward of Gondor in Boromir's absence at the front, was an old man of the Tower Guard, picked for his unswerving loyalty to the old steward and his wise judgement. It was a sad reflection of the times that only the old were left at home, the young men all fighting orcs and corsairs. Essethar rode down through the seven tiers of the city, and his heart was gladdened as he beheld rank upon rank of elves, come to fight for the Freedom of Middle-Earth against the depredations of Sauron. He rode out through the gate, his lined face grim, but regal. He came to Haldir, and adressed him:
"Great is the hour of need in which Gondor now finds itself, and it is good that the old alliances still hold. As once we fought together on the slopes of Mount Doom, so our peoples will again, in the defense of all that is Good. Gondor welcomes you. I apologise that our new Steward Boromir is not here to greet you, but as you can hear, the battle at Osgiliath rages and no end is in sight, indeed it is said that the orcs have not even launched their main offensive. I bid you, after enjoying the hospitality of the White City, to march with all speed to Osgiliath, so that we may present a united front against the darkness. May the Valar lend us all the strength they can muster."


Haldir nodded at the mans words, "It is good that the old allinces hold firm, and I and my men shall fight and die for the white city, we shall do all we can to hold off the darkness that threatens to engulf these lands.

However no one, not even of the Elder kin can march for days without a break and fight effectivly, and thus I bid you to give us lodging for the night and then we shall march to your aid, I myself shall seek consultation with the steward himself about a plan of action. I leave my brother, Eldrad in charge of my forces during my absence and it is with him that you should how talk to, I should be off."

With that he wheeled his white charger and rode towards the battle, seeking the steward, and Eldrad walked forwards towards Essethar, "My people need food and lodgings, and I must talk to you about the defence of the city."

Darahil and seven hundred Swan Knights on foot formed a ring in the centre of the Corsairs. He knew it was only a matter of time before the discipline and better armour of the Gondorians would win the day. Plus there were reinforcements on their way he knew. He heard a great cry as 4,000 men-at-arms crashed into the Corsairs form the flank, reinforcing the Gondorian swordsmen. The heavy halberds they weilded proof against the heaviest of armour.

He thought that only one more blow would be enough to rout the force of Corsairs. He could see the unwillingness of the men he slew. He understood why as well. They were not land fighters, they were sailors, and as such were not as well equipped for close combat as his own men, be they knights or not.

The Knights were being avoided by many of the enemy men, they knew death was in their blades, and their armour was well forged. The horses in the centre of the ring were docile at the moment. But they had been trained for combat as well. They could bite and snap at men's faces, ripping off skin. They would rise up on their haunches to bring their powerful front legs and hooves down to break bones.

He heard a sound, and knew that the final blow was coming..... He could hear the sound of 2,000 horses charging, and he knew Quiach had dis-embarked and was leading his men in a ghreat wedge into the flanks of the Corsairs.




Quiach was exultant, he could see the banner of Prince Darahil still flying above the heads of the Corsairs. He saw the Corsairs hastily reform as he led his men on an inevitable charge. He saw with relief they had no pikes, the bane of cavalry, and all they were clutching were light scimitars, or boarding weapons. He saw one who had soiled his britches, and he felt the joy of battle wash over him as the charge hit home.

The Gondorian rain of fire upon the camp continued and the orcs grew frightened, why hadn't a counterattack been launched? Was it that the enemy really was too strong? But already plans were made to get rid of the Gondorian menace these archers were once and for all.
''Grumbulz, you will lead the warg riders in a counterattack.''
''But sir, the gate's on fire and we don't have enough water to put the flames out. The wargs will be scared!''
So you'll have to use whips then.'' Azhrek's cousin said calmly.
Soon six thousand warg riders poured out from the camp through both of the gates and charged towards the rangers. From the inside of the camp the catapults had begun to fire as soon as th warg riders were outside and pots of burning tar landed amongst the rangers, spreading fiery death and decreasing the morale.

North Ithilien, Gondor
This was what Faramir had been waiting for. The wargs would have much trouble in the very thick undergrowth, and likewise the catapults could do little in the face of so many trees, but they could catch them on fire, and Faramir did not want Gondor's rangers caought in the fire. Their work here was done. "RETREAT!" he shouted, and the men loosed one last coordinated flaming volley into the ranks of the wargs, and faded into the forest, going downstream to the fords by separate routes. An orc on foot would have much trouble following them, to say nothing of a singed warg. His men forded either forded the river or were picked up by Gondorian boats, and came back to camp for a good meal and some rest just as day was breaking. Boromir recieved Haldir with the utmost respect, and after they had breakfasted, Boromir turned to him to see what he had to say.

Minas Tirith, Gondor
Your people are welcome here, you may use the barracks of the Gondorian troops that are now at the front, and we will provide you with food from the new harvest. Eldrad, I do not believe the city is in immediate danger, but both myself and the Steward expect Osgiliath to eventually be overrun, when that happens the strength of our walls and the hardness of our steel and resolve is what we shall put our trust in," said Essethar, as he led Eldrad up to the Seventh Tier, where he would stay in royal accomodation.

The Banks of the River Anduin, Gondor
Beregond shouted as the new Dol Amrothian reinforcements came, and knew the day was won. Surely his highly disciplined, well-armoured infantry, fighting for the White Tree, would prevail over the rabble of cut-throats with nothing more to believe in than that possibly if Sauron ruled they would be slightly more favored slaves. Then, he heard silver trumpets, and a hail of arrows from the East flank told him that his fellow captain's army had arrived. His 3,000 archers formed up on a hill to the east, while his 2,000 pikemen defended them and the 5,000 swordsmen launched themselves into the fray, assisting their comrades.

OOC: Wow! I'm rping in three to four different places at once!

OOC: how many men are there on the side of the corsairs?

As the night fell and midnight approached the orcs in Osgiliath manned the catapults and loaded them with the rubble of what was once the proud city of Osgiliath, capital of Gondor, and fired. The rocks landed amongst the ranks of the gondorians on the other side of the river. At the same time a raiding party of five hunfred orcs was gearing up, they would land at the same time as the first boulders, thus taking advantage of the surprise and confusion.

In the commander's tent in the camp:
''Casualty report.''
''Thirty orcs dead and sixty wounded, a hundred warg riders dead and another one hundred and fifty wounded.''
''Good, the shields worked. Move another five hundred up to Osgiliath and rebuild the palisades, this time cover them with wet leather straps. Also build covered towers and position a ballista in every fourth tower and marksmen with crossbows in the others.''
''Yes sir!''

There ar 1500 with some on the ships trying to escape. they are armed with bows and scimitars. Some have Bill hooks and many ahve light knives.

The crash of the Knights ran into the corsairs like a arrow to the heart. Men screamed everywhere some of the men tried to run away but were cut down by the knights. Thraken threw his knife at a knight of important statue. it buried into his leg but still he did not halt. The knight kept on going. Shoot him shouted Thraken as his men ran pastim. Harasti drew his bow and unleashed 2 arrows at his horse . Thraken raised his scimitar andtried to kill the knight as he tumbled to the ground. Harastti drew his own weapons.

Meanwhile themen on the remaining boats were trying to provide cover fire for any men who managed to get onto the ships. On the flank The men were fighting a losing battle. they were the elite and they knew it but they were not ready for a full cavalry attack. Could they hold out. Send a messenger to any orcs willing to fight shouted the leader of the men, Jarken. There has got to be someone out there who can help us.

Minas Tirith, Gondor
Eldrad nodded, "I am afraid that might happen, and my men shall be of little use then, we are used to fighting in the woodlands of our home, not on the walls of a city, it is there that strength and brute force come to play. What are your current forces defending the white city? Do yu have any plans to increase the amount of men in the army?"

North Ithilien, Gondor
"IT has been some years since I travelled these lands, Boromir, and many of my men have never been to foreign lands before, what is your stratagy to be and how can my elves aid you?"

Their men began to fall, but not as swift as the Haradrim warriors he had brought along with him. Yelling them to contemplate their swift deaths, roaring of his voice was all they could rally together, as the remnants of the tattered and broken Haradrim company breached the forest's blinding arrowfuls of danger, and finally reaching the shanky dark lands on the borders of Mordor, in the shadow of the Orodruin's fury.

Argh'bahk dismounted his olphaunt, leaping onto the fertile but shaken ground, and the rumbling of Mordor past the plains of darkness and the watchful eyes of Minas Morgul. Taking up a long whistling cloak, and dropping all his weapons to his foremost captain, Argh'bahk told them to take the route along the side of the mountains, and reach the gates behind Dagorlad.

As for Argh'bahk, he reentered the forest, and began to walk the road back to Harad, intent on getting much more powerful company to reach Mordor, instead of the undisciplined and frightened rabble he was cursed to lead in the beginning.

South Ithilien, Gondor
The 10,000 rangers, knowing their job here was done, left for the Anduin after leaving several scouts to warn them when more Haradrim came. They reached the Anduin further west from the battle, but marched along its bank to see if they could help.

North Bank of the Anduin, Gondor
Beregond raised his sword in victory. There were but a few of the corsairs left, and they would be taken care of. His 20,000 men ground forward like a relentless machine, their pikes, swords, and arrows doing heinous damage to the remaining warriors of Umbar. Beregond sent messengers to the other two captains, telling them that their assistance was not needed and they should proceed to Osgiliath.

Minas Tirith, Gondor
"Most of the able-bodied men are already in the field, although we do have 10,000 here defending the White City. We are in the process of training more troops, but this will take time, and most of them are not in the prime of life. We currently have 60,000 men in Osgiliath, 40,000 on the banks of the Anduin, and 10,000 in South Ithilien, plus the 10,000 here. As you can see, our resources are stretched to the limit," replied Essethar.

Western Osgiliath, Gondor
"My strategy is to maintain control of Western Osgiliath for as long as possible. Faramir has launched a highly successful counter-attack against the enemy encampment, but he now has far better defenses. Prince Darahil with his Dol Amrothians will come up with his ships when he is finished with the corsairs to prevent an orc landing, which will be very helpful. I also have 20,000 men marching up the Anduin, and 20,000 more who will come with Prince Darahil. If we can prevent the orc assault for happenning until these reinforcements arrive, we will be nigh invincible. I am not overestimating my troops when I say that a combination of their morale, heavy armour, fine-crafted weapons, and determination, makes each of them worth at least two orcs." Boromir suddenly broke off as he saw a catapult stone fire into a nearby tower. "The orcs have begun a bombardment, and Sauron will launch troops under its cover. I'm afraid I must leave you now to prepare my men, do whatever you can." He ran off towards the command post.

All 60,000 Gondorians were ready and waiting behind a tall stone wall at the riverbank, bows drawn, swords unsheathed, and pikes pointed over at the vile orc scum. However, they were spread about under cover of ruined buildings and their great steel shields, keeping casualties from the barrage to a minimum. The troops in the towers near the river had prepared their trebuchets and heated up lead chunks, and began catapulting them a great distance onto the other bank, no doubt sowing fear and disorder as the flaming barrage came down on pitiless orcc, warg, and catapult alike. Scouts were spread out far on each flank, ready to notify Boromir and Faramir if the enemy attempted a stealthy approach. Boromir and Faramir each controlled a flank of the mighty defending force.

A hot lead bolt set one of the boats aflame and the orcs in it plunged into the water and swam to the shore where the Gondorians waited and they did their best to form a wall of shields and spears with the swordsmen in the center. Soon the rest of the boats pulled up and the troops went ashore in an area no wider than one hundred yards.

On the other shore the observators had seen the trebuchets and shouted to the catapuls to direct some of their fire to those and soon huge boulders began raining amongst the contraptions of Men. The call was also sent after more troops to help the landing what had started as a small raid was going to be a full scale assault as another three thousand orcs were dispatched, the total number of orcs in Osgiliath now numbered nearly eight thousand.

Haldir realised that there was little time to rest, and he called out his brother shycically for help, in Minas Tirith Eldrad looked up, "I am afraid there is little chance of my men resting, the assult has begun, we must march now to aid your comrades."

He ran away from the man, his armour flashing in the sunlight towards where his elves stood in there disaplined ranks. "We must leave now!" he yelled at them, "Elfangor, you take your men out first, i'll follow! We march to Osgiliath, for the Enermy has begun his attack."

The first elves began to march swiftly out of the great gate, and across the plain towards the ruins of Osgiliath. They where few, only 2,000, but they where the best arches and some of the most skillful fighters on middle earth.

They reached the edges of the city within the hour, there where the sounds of screaming from somewhere towards the river, a wounded Gondorian was carried past him, he pulled over one of the streached bearers who stared in wonder at the ranks of elves.

"Whats going on?" He asked,

"The Orcs are attacking, they have formed a landing..."

"Where?" The man pointed and Eldrad ordered Elfangor to take his men in that direction, "Be ready to fight, start shooting as soon as you see the enermy. Elfangor nodded and eldrad turned back to the man.

"Find the Steward, tell him renforcements have arrived and are engaging, tell him that we need orders." The man ran off and eldrad turned for Haldir had arrived, they embraced and Haldir looked at his brother.

"The situation is grave, the orcs have formed a landing and have begun ferrying renforcments over the river, I balive our archery will be of great help, get the men into the surrounding buildings and in cover and begin firing." Eldrad nodded and despatched the neccary, soon the goldern armoured figures where joining the Gondorians behind there barrackades and where firing there deadly accurate arrows, more than 25,000 per minuate, into the Orcs at the ladning, each arrow finding it's mark.

OOC: is it too late to take Dale?

OOC: Not at all. Should I sign you up for it?

Western Osgiliath, Gondor
Faramir fired shot after shot into the massed ranks of orcs, he was exhilarated as tens of thousands of flaming arrows shot past him, burying themselves into the tightly packed orcs. The men were relatively safe from catapults, as they were spread out behind cover. The trebuchets suffered some damage, but most were also in protected positions, where the trebuchet had an advantage over the catapult since it fired in a higher arc over a very long range.

The orc landing had been hotly contested, but now they were ashore. Boromir waited with ranks of pikemen and swordsmen, until the orcs reached the walls. A messenger came from the elves, he was glad they had come, for they would be of great use. He told them to come up to the front and fire on the hated foe, possibly looking for chances for suprise flank attacks as the orcs moved inward toward the Gondorians.

Lothlorien
Thrakthun gazed at the great mound of orc bodies gathered together by his brethren.The slaughter had been great,and much vengeance achieved for the many trees cut down wantonly by the bararum.He looked around,trees coated with the gore of the slain,limbs and innards strewn through the branches of many trees.

Galadriel of Lothlorien,your realm is safe.Treebeard's Ents will take part in this war.Our lot is with you.Where are we needed.....

Isengard
With a groan,Treebeard heaved the great boulder of the ground at threw it into the bararum horde before him.Flaming arrows flew all over,burning many of the Ents.The small party of bararum archers was quickly stomped into the ground by Quickbeam,the rest sent flying by a sweep of his branches.Bararum and men were sent scattering into the new woods about Isengard,herded there by the Ents.All that ran into the woods did not escape,some screams abruptly cut off,most of it unearthly silence as the trees and Huorns claimed their due from orckind.

Stomping into the ground the filthy bararum,Treebeard picked up an Uruk-hai and threw it at Orthanc,where it impacted against the wall,leaving not a scratch upon the stone of the wall.Around the Orthanc tower raged a mighty sea of Ents,debris thrown up at the tower to no avail,their voices rising in fury as they crashed time and again like a tide upon the stone of Orthanc.While rock and stone may not have been able to withstand them,the Orthanc did.Hard as diamond,even their mightiest could not breach its surface with root,rock,limb or flame.

Suddenly,from vents in the ground,flames fountained forth and caught many Ents in their flaming reach.Roaring and running in flame agony and fury,they threw themselves against the Orthanc with even greater fury.

A deep basso roar greater than any other rose over the din and the Ents quietened down as Treebeard withdrew his Ents from the melee,the bararum shattered and broken,his Ents needing time to heal while he made a strategy to breach or at least contain the Orthanc tower with Saruman within.

The Ents on fire had dirt and soil thrown over them,leaving their trunks blackened and charred by the flames of Saruman.Their great fury receding to be replaced with cold anger,they withdrew into the shadows cast by the Huorns,waiting guard,trapping any survivors within the circle of Isengard.

Upstream the Isen River
Bloodsoil worked the dam into position with the great strength of his limb and the other Ents,as they dammed up the mighty Isen,redirecting it towards Isengard.Treemen herded trees out of the path of the coming torrent that would shatter Isengards strength once and for all,cleansing it of the stench of Saruman and his orcs.

OOC: the Uruk Hai just left, there are none in Isengard. That will change.

Gortag, captain of the Uruk Hai, looked up and saw Sarumans black crows fly over with a message. Gortag did not understand it and asked another captain to tell him what it meant 'Mauhur?' he said 'What does our Lord need from us? Mauhur, clearly angry at his collegue's inability to understand the messages from Crebain replied 'Fool, Isengard is under attack by the Ents. We must return imediatly. I still do not understand why Saruman made you Captain! You are dumber than a cave troll.'
It took Mauhur a couple minutes to get Sarumans command to all the Uruk Hai, but once they knew of Isengards difficult situation, the Uruk Hai made a 180 degree turn and hurried to their masters home without delay.
It did not mean the Rohirrim would escape their fate, Sharku and his Warg riders would make sure Rohan was kept busy while the Uruk Hai dealt with soon to be firewood.

The Elves continued to fire thousands of shot into the orc's never coming close enough to be attacked by the enermys unsuperior arrow fire.

-----------------------------
iTreebeard, once the enermy in Isringard has been defeated and his armys cushed, then you should march south to aid Gondor.

The orcs on the western banks of Anduin charged foewards unto the ranks of the spearmen of Gondor. They had the orc spears in the first lines, then the swordsmen who would close as soon as the enemy was close enough and lastly the crossbowmen, firing volley after volley of arrows amidst the ranks of Men and any Elf that came to close.
Once the humans were driven backwards the bows of the Elves would be mostly useless as they couldn't fire directly or indirectly at the orcs and still be efficient.

OOC: I don't see why they wouldn't be useful, theres a hell of a lot of arrows still dropping on you.

IC: Ehaldir saw the danger and ordered his men to fire directly towards the spear carryers, the passage had become a killing feild, full of hundreds of dead, thousands a arrows still slammed into the closly packed orcs every minuate.

OOC: If you use direct fire you will hit some of the soldiers of Gondor, no matter how good you aim. If you fire over the men of Gondor you would have to aim very high and the arrows would drop almost vertically. Given the shere amount of arrows they will of course hit something but since a man or an orc pose a much smaller target when seen from above the casualties wouldn't be as huge as normal.

OOC: If you use direct fire you will hit some of the soldiers of Gondor, no matter how good you aim. If you fire over the men of Gondor you would have to aim very high and the arrows would drop almost vertically. Given the shere amount of arrows they will of course hit something but since a man or an orc pose a much smaller target when seen from above the casualties wouldn't be as huge as normal.
ooc: Ah, didn't see it that way-clever.

Darahil saw Quiach come off his horse, the purebreed charger laid low by arrows. He bellowed a curse, as he saw the wounded Quiach start to rise, and limp forward to fight the Corsair leader. Slashing about him with his blade, he charged into the Corsairs once more, followed by his 20 man elite guard. None of them had ever been beaten in a fight except by him, so he knew they would survive.

Quiach pulled the knife out of his leg and spat an oath at the grinning tanned man in front of him. He threw the knife away, not even thinking of using the cowards stratagy against him. He drew his sword, noticing the rune markings along the balde glittering in the dying sun. To the men around it looked as if he weilded a blade of blood. He removed his helm, knowing the importance of eye-contact in single combat, and moved against the enemy leader.

They circled, each looking for an opening, even wounded, Quiach was confident. He sparnd forward and their blades flickered too fast for the eye to follow. When they broke apart again, the leader of the Corsairs had a gash above his eyes. Quiach grinned, the blood would drip down into his oponents eyes and blind him. It took him a while to realise that he had another thrown dagger in his stomach. And he stared in disbelief at the handle which seemed to have grown out of his stomach. As he fell to the ground, he saw Darahil behind his enemy, and he saw the blade rise up above the Corsairs head, and flash downwards...

OOC: Relative Liberty, you can't get close enough to my men to impede the firing of the elves, because my men are spread out at the top of a twenty-foot wall. And I don't believe you brought any ladders.

IC: Western Osgiliath, Gondor
The arrows flew thick and fast, most toward the tightly-packed orcs, but some against the Gondorians behind crenellations on the wall. Most of these clattered harmlessly against the masonry salvaged from ruined buildings, but some found their mark, and Gondorians fell down, their bodies spewing blood. The trebuchets continued to fire, targeting the enemy catapults from their defensive position, hoping to take them out. The archers along with Faramir continued to fire mass volleys down at the orcs, and when the vile foes were right below the wall, they upended cauldrons of boiling oil on the hapless enemy. Boromir's spearmen and swordsmen waited behind the wall. Boromir, realizing the closer proximity of the enemy, ordered his spearmen up on the wall behind the archers, so they could take over when the enemy eventually found a way up. For now, though, things were going well. Messengers came from one of Captain Forondel, that his 10,000 men were nearing the battle from the south. He had sent forward a detatchment of 2,500 rangers. When they arrived, Boromir sent them on a special mission. They crossed the river at an extreme southern ford, and made their way up the far bank under the cover of the trees, where the catapults were deployed to reach the Gondorian bank. Here, they bent back bows, and let off flaming shafts toward the vile machines.

Hollin was the name of the lands west of Moria, although this had not always been so. A wast wilderness of shrubby heathes dotted and smouldering ruins along with the occational forested hilltop was now all that was left of the elven kingdom of Eregion, it's lore and history now lost in centuries past to all but the most wise and knowledgeable of men and elves.

It was in fair Eregion that the followers of Celebrimbor, famed for their skill at smithing, was instructed by Sauron and crafted the three Rings of Power. Sauron also crafted a ring for himself, into which he poured his cruelty, his malice, and his will to dominate all living... We know how that story went.

It was into this land that Ishaq Yrmgren, Warlord of Moria sent groups of orcs to cut wood for his fletchers and lumber for his forges, a number of which had now been put into working condition and had begun spewing forth both weapons and armour of good, sturdy orcish make. Crude but still effective.

"I want Lazog and some of his hunters to exit the Eastern entrance, and traverse the lands along the river there, they one called The Silverload. Find a ford and cross it by night, then continue east"

The flickering flames of the braziers cast dancing shadows upon the walls of Ishaq's council chaber. He scratched the spreading rash on his left cheek absentmindedly as his yellow eyes went to each of the faces of the orcish chieftains assembled there. The Yrmgren tribe held sway in Moria, and many lesser tribes of orcs had sworn fealty to their grim visage. A broken sword encircled by a gaping maw with pointy teeth.

"Beware the elves that hold court in the woodlands east and south of 'ere" Ishaq continued, his right hand passing over the edge of a long, wicked-looking knife that hung from his belt "Frail their bones might be, but their arrows fly true enough" the assembled chieftains nodded, they knew well how lethal a barrage of elven arrows could be.

Lazog the Hunter was a broad-faced orc with small, piggish eyes and a long mane of grey, grizzled hair tied up in a braid that fell down his back. He was by far the most skilled bowman in the Yrmgren tribe, and more than a little respect among the rank and file of the archers of Moria. Some said this shallow-faced orcs skill at marksmanship could even match those of an elf.

"I can make the crossing of the river with my hunters like nothin', but going farther east by the lands of the elves undetected is not gonna be easy with a group larger than 5 lads, or maybe 4" Ishaq snarled "Well then make yer pick lad, and be quick about it! Once you've reached and crossed a second river a couple of days to the east again, you'll be entering another forest. No elves'll be prancin' around in there, so it should be easier on your hides from there on"

The council meeting carried on well into the night, and appart from some heavy drinking and a couple of violent disagreements between those assembled, the orders set forth by Warlord Ishaq were simple: Keep the forges working and weapons comming at all costs. Lazog and his chosen hunters were to cross the Silverload at night two days from now, then travel north and east to avoid the forests where the elves were said to lurk. Upon reaching the second river, whose name Ishaq didn't know, they were to cross it and travel on into the woodlands beyond (Mirkwood). Once inside they were to travel south again, until they came upon a place Ishaq knew was called "Dol Guldur". There would be orcs there, the Warlord stated reassuringly, orcs and other powerful one's who could aid them in battle with the elves in the forest to the east...

OOC: Relative Liberty, you can't get close enough to my men to impede the firing of the elves, because my men are spread out at the top of a twenty-foot wall. And I don't believe you brought any ladders.

IC: Western Osgiliath, Gondor
The arrows flew thick and fast, most toward the tightly-packed orcs, but some against the Gondorians behind crenellations on the wall. Most of these clattered harmlessly against the masonry salvaged from ruined buildings, but some found their mark, and Gondorians fell down, their bodies spewing blood. The trebuchets continued to fire, targeting the enemy catapults from their defensive position, hoping to take them out. The archers along with Faramir continued to fire mass volleys down at the orcs, and when the vile foes were right below the wall, they upended cauldrons of boiling oil on the hapless enemy. Boromir's spearmen and swordsmen waited behind the wall. Boromir, realizing the closer proximity of the enemy, ordered his spearmen up on the wall behind the archers, so they could take over when the enemy eventually found a way up. For now, though, things were going well. Messengers came from one of Captain Forondel, that his 10,000 men were nearing the battle from the south. He had sent forward a detatchment of 2,500 rangers. When they arrived, Boromir sent them on a special mission. They crossed the river at an extreme southern ford, and made their way up the far bank under the cover of the trees, where the catapults were deployed to reach the Gondorian bank. Here, they bent back bows, and let off flaming shafts toward the vile machines.
OOC: Ah, missed that part.

IC:
The Orcs tried to clim the wall with their bare hands but this proved as unsuccessful as lethal as the Elves and Men decimated their numbers with an infinite amount of arrows and long spears. Only a small fraction of their forces remained at this point and the casualties continued to rise.
They commander of the landing party called for reinforcements and as the runner were inside the camp and had left his message another band of Orcs were marching, this time with trolls amongst them.
On the beach the orcs had begun stacking all the dead and wounded intop one great pile and used it as a stair to climb up to the top of the wall and the enemy that waited there. Many more lost their lives as their were hit by elven arrows and maimed by Gondorian spears and swords.


The cataults caught fire and the troopers stationed there tried their best to chase the archers away, abandoning the catapults for a short time.

Western Osgiliath, Gondor
The Gondorian troops upended cauldrons of boiling oil on the hapless foes, trying to stall any attempts to make it up the walls. The pikemen behind the archers held their spears out in between the archers, thus impaling any foe stupid enough to get close without restricting the whithering hail from the archers. Seeing that the catapults were out of business for the moment, the trebuchets turned their attention to the trolls, taking them out with huge chunks of masonry with suprising accuracy for such huge machines. The archers mainly fired their flaming arrows at the orcs, but some fired at the trolls, attempting to light them on fire and send them rampaging through the other foes.

Eastern Osgiliath, Gondor
The rangers sent a whithering hail of flaming arrows at the catapults, hoping to light many on fire while killing the crew.

Thank you for giving my leader a good death Zombies.

The corsirs knew they could not win those in the boats fired anything they could at the Gondorians. Anyone foolish enough to stay was cut down and devoured by the entire army of Gondor.With a few arrows well struck the corsairs fell there ships drifting on the river.the corsairs had fought and lost. But they knew they had beaten fate by staying the men of gondor.


Can you choose another Evil army after ones been beaten. Iwould choose an evil one. too keep the balance. And i t would keep the thread going?????

Also could you add the warg riders as a seperate army or do they count as isengard

OOC: The Warg riders were under Sarumans command so i've already started using them, if only Rohan(Saxonius) would post again. Well, he doesnt have to hurry up, he's giving me the time I need to get rid of Fangorn first.
The Easterlings(Rhun) are still free I believe and they do work as a seperate army.

Thousands of Uruk hai sandals made the earth shake while they carried their deadly masters to their home, their approach could be heard from miles away. And slowly their battalions advenced until there was only a hundred meter between them and the walls of Isengard, here they stopped and reorganized themselves and formed lines. From the rear Mauhur moved forward pushing aside Uruk Hai who were standing in his way, he eventually reached the leading group were he issued his orders without delay: 'Gortag! Get your raiders and free the dam of opposition, now move. The others will follow me, make torches so we can set the Ents on fire, leave behind any equipment we do not need and bring along blades, axes and arrows. After we've dealt with the Ents we'll burn down Fangorn forrest! Now CHARGE'
With loud groaning and roaring the Uruk Hai army started to move again, to their right the fast Raiding parties with their leather helmets and light gear ran as fast as they could to the dam, there were only a couple Ents, no match for the many Uruk Hai we would have to face.
The raiders would reach their objective ate the same time the main force entered Isengard, led by the ever fanatical Berserkers, carrying their long sword and torches followed by Swordfighters and pikemen who attached strw to their pike and set it on fire.
The Ents had not won the battle yet!

Haldir pulled back his bowstring and fired again, his arrow finding a orc head, he saw that the barabrians had begun to build a mound of dead with the intention of using it to climb to walls.

He ordered his men to use flaming arrows and to set the pile on fire.

OOC: can i be the part of a lone female ranger...like Aragorn? a woman that looks over the land and helps care for lost travellers and sick animals? if so, ill post a profile later

OOC: i am no longer using SPARKLEMIST, i'm this name now, its easier.

OoC: Caladonn, would it be alright if I took on the role of the Nazgùl and it's orcish forces controlling Dol Guldur? It would make my plans flow a lot better, but if this is not an option, perhaps you would consider opening it up for play by other NS'ers?

OOC: trondheim! i knopw someone there! i LOVE Norway!

IC:

Name: Morwen Penmark (http://www.thirdagelegacy.com/images/characters-morwen.jpg)
Occupation: Ranger
Side: Good
Age: 30

please tell me if I am allowed, i would REALLY love to do this :)

The orcs continued to charge at the enemy, the spears of Gondor and the elves arrows didn't stop the flow, although it reduced the numer of soldiers. The Elves tried to set the pile of bodies on fire but the flaming arrows merely slammed into the corpses followed by a pssshhh as the flames were extinguished. The corpses were still wet of blood and the water of Anduin.

As the trolls waded across Anduin they were hit by the large boulders flung their way by the trebuchets and some of the trolls fell when they were still in the water. But the larger part made it up to the wall and began hammering the enemy with their large clubs and tearing the wall with their bare hands.

On the other bank:
The enemy fired another salvo at the already burning catapults as the guards charged towards them, less than a hundred yards away from them by now.

"Aim for the trolls," haldir yelled, seeing the danger. The elves changed there aim and began bombarding the trolls.

Morwens horse was uneasy, they were plodding slowly through the forest, she had her bow and arrows on her back, the sword by her waist, her dark ginger hair tied back in side french plaits, she was clad in leather, her face rosy and her eyes green

she heard the noise of the orcs, she knew she had to do something quickly.... she heard Haldir call to his men. she galloped her horse Feroce to the edge of the forest and looked down onto the battlefield.

she went down to Haldir.

'Morwen Penmark, Ranger of these parts, I have been sent to help' she said, halting her impatient horse.

As the enemy concentrated on the trolls some went berserk, hitting friend and foe alike, others were killed and some were only enraged and increased the force behind their attacks and even tearing down large parts of the wall at once.
As the orcish reinforcements aided their comrades in the struggle they tried an all out charge at the wall of spears, being supported by trolls and crossbowmen and having spearmen of their own it was alomst a fair fight.

Well done on getting to 500 posts Releative Liberty

The Men of Rhun walked along the path to Rohan there heavy halberds carried by beasts from Rhun. get those lines steady shouted there leader, Unstran the Pike wielder. His name had been created when using a pike cut down to size he had slayed 5 men. this was when he was 10. Now he carried a new pike, engraved with runes and lettering of his family. The men respected him. They would not run in battle. To become a warrior under rhun you had to stay in the wilderness for a month by yourself. If you failed this challenge you were deemed unfit to fight and were digraced. Jenrak had done so well at this challenge that he stayed out an extra month to finish building a watch tower. And now he was marching to Rohan to avenge the deaths of his father and mother. they would pay in Rohan and they would remember his name if they did not.

OOC: where can i join in?

OOC: where can i join in?
OOC: I thought you where The Three United Isles, anyway 3UI, you'll have to wait for Caladonn for his permission.

OOC: grrrrrrrrrrr :mad:

OOC: grrrrrrrrrrr :mad:
OOC: :D, it's his RP you have to do as he says-however I think that he should accept you, your elyer post was great and it gives somthing for Haldir to do!

OOC: yeh, im just a single lone character that looks after the land...hardly a big task...do u have msn? if so...add me MANUTDMAD4EVA@YAHOO.CO.UK

OOC: grrrrr, i keep posting under both names...sorry about this...iv got rid of the other name now...PHEW!

OOC: he didnt have to die.... his razor sharp reflexes could have saved him.... anyway, u like the name Jenrak don't you lol

Darahil knelt by Quiach. The blood bubbled from his mouth, and he struggled to keep his eyes open. He smiled weakly as he saw that only men of Dol Amroth and Gondor were around, he knew they had won, at least on this area of the battle. send men to reinforce the others on the shore of Umbar, and I am glad you are still alive milord

He smiled weakly and his eyes glazed over.

Darahil knelt by the body, cradling his life-long friend's head in his arms, and sobbing. When he finally looked up, a smouldering anger burned in his eyes.
Get me my body guard, send 2,000 men-at-arms and 200 Swan Knights to reinforce those in Umbar. The rest of us ride to help Gondor. So saying he clambered up onto his charger, and the two hundred knights whose horses were dead followed suit. He pulled his helm on, and lowered the visor.

Over 7,000 knights were with him, and swords raised and lances lowered, they rode towards Osgiliath, from where sounds of battle were coming. The Swan Banner flew proudly over their heads.


On the river three-quarters of the fleet sailed towards Osgiliath, determined to disrupt the orc landing parties.

OOC: So sorry I couldn't post earlier, you'll all be added. In the future, if you want to join as an uncontroversial team, then feel free to join before I "officially" accept you. And I'm 1/4 Norwegian and half my relatives live in Trondheim, Oslo and Bergen!

IC: Western Osgiliath, Gondor
The Gondorian archers kept up their hail of fire on the enemy, driving back any foe with so little intelligence as to attempt to climb up the precipitous, slippery slope of partially flaming dead orcs. The boiling oil also contributed greatly to this incentive, as it incinterated scores of orcs at a time. The spearmen began to impale all enemies close enough, and formed a shield wall in front of and over all the soldiers on the wall, dropping the ranged casualties considerably. The wall withstood many poundings from the vile trolls, and flaming trebuchet stones were dispatched in that direction. 7,500 more men had arrived from the south, and took up a position in the ruins on the orcs' south flank, peppering them with flaming arrows. 10,000 more men would be there soon. The might of Gondor would fall on these fell creatures.

Eastern Osgiliath, Gondor
As now all of the catapults were going up in flames, the archers poured fire arrows into the oncoming mob of crewmen as they retreated.

Banks of the Anduin
Beregond raised his sword, and a mighty roar came up from the 18,000 Gondorians, the day was theirs! They quickly fell into marching order after eating, and hastened to the aid of Boromir and Faramir in Osgiliath.

OOC:yay! im in!!!!!!!

IC:
Morwens horse was uneasy, they were plodding slowly through the forest, she had her bow and arrows on her back, the sword by her waist, her dark ginger hair tied back in side french plaits, she was clad in leather, her face rosy and her eyes green

she heard the noise of the orcs, she knew she had to do something quickly.... she heard Haldir call to his men. she galloped her horse Feroce to the edge of the forest and looked down onto the battlefield.

she went down to Haldir.

'Morwen Penmark, Ranger of these parts, I have been sent to help' she said, halting her impatient horse

OoC: Well Caladonn, What'll it be?

Haldiur looked at Morwen survirly, "You have a bow?" He asked, "My men are weak over there, the Orc's there are under slightly less fire, could you aid them? I balive the time for sword work will soon come."

The assault had failed, and the Orcish commanders knew it. The order to retreat was given and the survivors abandoned the wall and ran towards safety, some wading through Anduin, others by boats. The empy boats were filled with corpses and towed by the others.

Outside Osgiliath the army had begun marching. The camp was not abandoned but the soldiers carried the palisade, the spears, the stones and the tents with them and set up their camp in a large square.
''Get the defences up in an hour. Raze the buildings in our immediate vicinty and use the stone to build a wall near the shore, the enemy's stratagem has proved to efficient to be underestimated. Clear the streets and build large gates between the houses. Also cut down any tree that still stands. Station the catapults here and pile the corpses next to them, put the large shields in front.''

Darahil stopped and looked around, the wall was covered in blood, and the orcs were nowhere to be seen. Luckily he had arrived at dark, so he sped away again, the orcs nione the wiser as to them having been there, the ships gracefully sliding away.

Haldiur looked at Morwen survirly, "You have a bow?" He asked, "My men are weak over there, the Orc's there are under slightly less fire, could you aid them? I balive the time for sword work will soon come."

'Yes I have a bow' she said pointing to the elegant longbow on her back.
'swordwork is my forte, but for now the arrow and bow will do' she said smiling.

she got back on her horse and went to aid the archers.

OOC: Hanseania, you're signed up as Dol Goldur. Relative Liberty, I was under the impression that all the catapults were up in flames and destroyed. My men were still firing on them. And by cutting down every tree still standing, you don't mean all of North Ithilien, do you?

IC: Western Osgiliath, Gondor
The army at Osgiliath had now been reinforced to 100,000 men, a mighty force. The wall along the river was heightened to thirty feet tall and thickened considerably also along with the towers for the trebuchets, the men working industriously, as they knew the fate of Gondor was at stake. A party of men also went to a nearby forest, and cut down more trees to make Trebuchets. The existing war machines fired ceaselessly at the enemy emplacements, contesting their fortifications. 20,000 rangers also crossed on both flanks under the command of Beregond and Faramir, swiftly taking up positions to take out the orc lumber parties and outlying wall-builders. They engaged the orcs from ambush in the woods.

OOC: can Morwen see Osgiliath, i might get her to go over there, because i wanna rp and Haldirs player isnt online...please ;) :fluffle: (16.female.uk here btw)

Western Osgiliath, Gondor
Boromir walked along the line of straining men, yelling encouragement to them as they worked tirelessly on the wall. He continued to the elves' camp, where he wanted to converse with Haldir, but he saw a woman dressed in the garments of a ranger of the north. He hailed her, and approached. "Greetings, Dunedain. I am Boromir, Steward of Gondor. I see you have come to help us in our time of need, and I thank you. Do you bring any news from the north? What of the rumors of the Istari Council and the Return of the King?"

'Greetings...Morwen Penmark' she said. http://www.thirdagelegacy.com/images/characters-morwen.jpg (PICTURE )

'I am a lone ranger of the north, I do not serve the king' she said.

'although I do hear there is to be a crowning of special magnificence' she said smiling revealing beautiful white teeth.

'I hear you are a very successful leader of men, and..what of your brother Faramir' she asked slightly blushing.

http://www.rpgplanet.com/memw/tta/light/images/characters/Morwen.jpg

A summary of things that have happened in Hollin:

Hosts of orcs progressed deep and far into Hollin, metting next to no resistance in that barren land. Cutting lumber for armaments and hunting the local wildlife for food, an Orc lieutenant named Coruck founded a small shantytown of nefarious wooden huts and lean-tos upon a small hill above the cellars of an anchient elven border fort, now long since crumbled into ruin. This was done in order to speed up the process of transporting the materials gathered back to Moria.

This shantytown grew steadily in size as more bands of orcs continued to arrive, and eventually a low dike was dug around it for defence. The earth from this digg Coruck directed his men to form into a low mound passing along the inside of the dike, and upon that again they built a palisade of heavy wooden logs, leaving only two gates for purposes of entering and leaving.

With a base of operations now properly defended, Coruck began sending small groups of orcs over the nearby Glanduin river and into the wast plains of Dunland to capture the people living in the outlying regions there as slaves.

A summary of things as they stand now:

These raids have so far been moderately successfull, with several outlying farmsteads being looted and sacked by Coruck's raiders. Dunlendings taken as slaves from these raids are taken back to the Shantytown upon the hill, which is quickly named "Zagiraf-ob-Nagakmog" by the orcs there, meaning "Yoke-of-Torment" in their foul tongue.

OoC: I'm not sure if anyone would have a problem with the Moria orcs taking on this role. If anyone has, please inform me, and I will write something else.

Can I join as Mithlond (Grey Havens) or it is to late or someone already has taken it?

OOC: Morwen King Aurther right?

IC: haldir had his men camped in Osgilith under the ever present threat of enermy threat, his men where tired and cold, but there Lorien Blankets keapt them warm, sentrys patrolled the 'camps' sides, though as it had no tents or any shelter it could ahrdly be called a camp.

The elves had marched hard and fast, carrying only there weapons, armour and blankets, they had no tents, but they would rough it in the ruined buildings.

Haldir sent a group of men in the morning to scavange elvin arrows from the corpses, and they found many of the long shafts in the orc bodys that covered the ground, 3 or 4 thick in places.

He saw Lord Boromire and Lady Morwen conversing on the edge of the camp. he moved across to meet them, "Lord Boromir," He bowed, "Haldir of Lorien, commander of the elven forces here, and Lady Morwen of the north, I apologise, my lady, if I was too sharpe to you during the battle, I was fustrated and tired but now I am rested."

OOC: Hanseania, you're signed up as Dol Goldur. Relative Liberty, I was under the impression that all the catapults were up in flames and destroyed. My men were still firing on them. And by cutting down every tree still standing, you don't mean all of North Ithilien, do you?

OOC: Yes the catapults that already were in Osgiliath were burning, the ones in the camp were not. And I were under the impression that your archers retreated as you wrote As now all of the catapults were going up in flames, the archers poured fire arrows into the oncoming mob of crewmen as they retreated. And I mean parks and avenues etc.

And I brought most of the corpses with me so there wount be too many elven arrows.

'that is alright sir' Morwen smiled and nodded.

'I..hope you havent suffered much loss of men?' she asked.

The men were aproaching the rohan border soon they would be quenching bloodthirst and there enemys will fall.

Caladon will you delete saxonius from the role play i want to fight rohan and if he is not going to RP then there is a large gap in the roleplay

OOC: Yes, I'll sign you up as the Grey Havens.
Relative Liberty, I actually meant that they only retreated from the charging orcs, not back across the river. But it doesn't really matter now, I've got a new party of rangers attacking you.
Hanseania, it's fine if you do that, but remember Moria orcs do very badly during sunlight.
Richardsky, I'm going to telegram Saxonius to see if he will take a bigger part, it really is a problem. If he says he can't do it or doesn't reply then I will delete him.

IC: Western Osgiliath, Gondor
"Greetings, Lord Haldir" Boromir said with a deep bow to both him and Morwen. "I appreciate both of your timely assistance against the orcs, Haldir, my men will find yours suitable shelter in the less ruined buildings behind the wall. When your men are suitably recovered, their assistance would be helpful over the Anduin where Faramir is leading a ranger ambush."
Turning back to Morwen, he said, "I was hoping you would bring clarity to these rumours, but I appreciate your coming nonetheless. There will be no crowningas of yet, as there has not been in over a thousand years. If you wish to see Faramir, you will need to cross the river, since as I said earlier he is leading an assault on the forces of Mordor."

'oh, alright, its just, never mind' she said blushing.

'Yes, I travel alone with no-one but my horses' she said smiling.

Khamùl the Easterling. That was the name he bore. A hooded, sombre shadow draped in tones of grey and black, his hand promising death and his voice a mere whisper. Unyielding loyalty the paramount that made him strong. And now, The Eye commanded hatred of him, hatred of it’s enemies above all.

* * *

Lazog’s stared dully into the dying embers of the campfire, his legs still aching after the long trek through the gloomy Mirkwood forest. They had lost Dobruz to the elves while they been travelling along the edge of that first forest. His scream had pierced the silence of the oncoming evening, a pair of arrows the only clue their unseen assailants had bothered to leave behind. There had been no time to do anything but run.

Targoc had been the next to go. Pressing on throughout the following night had seemed like the best idea, as you seldom knew if any elves were watching you before the first arrows began to fly... During their fourth night of travel, they had reached the second, much broader river Ishaq had told him about. One sip from the murky waters of that river, and Targoc had been farther gone than a pebble half-way down one of the mine-shafts back home. He couldn’t remember who he was, why he was here or anything else, and so he hadn’t intervened when Abaz slit the poor fool’s throat for his boots. He was useless to them anyway.

His new boots didn’t save Abaz from his fate though, as the incessant chittering and scuttling of enormous, bloated spiders had heralded his muffled screams as the two of them had stopped for a brief rest in a clearing two days later. His muffled yells and curses had been enough to drive the cowl of sleep from Lazog’s mind, and the many-legged shapes he fancied he could make out in the darkness of the tree-line had sent him running as fast as he could away form his companions screams.

He’d almost begun to loose hope after that rotten log had given away under him, causing him to twist his ankle, but the next night he had finally reached the place Ishaq had described to him. A large, bald hill, completely free of trees and surrounded by a host of standing stones which jutted up from the surrounding landscape like the broken teeth of a giant of some sort. There had been other orcs there... other orcs, and something else... something powerful.

* * *

The thing which was Khamùl reviewed the message in the hollow shell of his mind once again. All allies was good allies, especially when the enemy abounded as he did under the canopies of the trees not far away, beyond the Great River. An attack from both sides, the east as well as west... yes, the elven menace of Lothlorien would surely be hard pressed to withstand such a force, and glory would befall his Master when news of his victory travelled across the land.

* * *

A few nights later, his twisted ankle still a painful remainder to him of the treacherous nature of these woods, Lazog began the journey back to Moria again, bearing news he was quite certain would make the puss-ridden face of Ishaq Yrmgren light up with glee. Dol Gulgur had agreed, the war-effort was joined.

OoC: Caladonn, I had hoped to be able to keep Moria under my controle even though you have so kindly granted me command of Dol Guldur as well. Can this be arranged?

OOC: Provided you don't become too powerful, I'm ok with it, but we'll have to see what the other rpers think. Good post, btw.

A division of Elves from the Grey Havens began to march to Osiglath and they numbered about 1200 archers and 1200 swordsmen.

Thank you.

The Dam
Bloodsoil could hear the murmur in the Earth of the approaching Orcs through his roots.So many!Never fear,for the dam would be held.The Ents had survived for ages not out of any luck.They were hardy and made of sterner stuff than any other race,even the Trolls.

A bare plain stood where mighty forest had once been,herded into safety by the Ents and Treemen of Fangorn.Through this plain,into the valley where Isengard stood,the mighty torrent of the dammed River Isen would flow.Great mounds of excavated Earth and rock stood at the sies,where the Ents and Treemen with help from the trees had tossed up rock and dirt to make a channel for the torrent.

They would make perfect bunkers from which to attack the bararum and destroy them like the vermin they were.

Isengard
Treebeard and his Ents stalked through the forest around Isengard,preparing for the coming horde of bararum.Since times even before Morgoth had started his corruption of Middle Earth,Treebeard had existed.Since the Elder Days of Middle Earth,he had fought bararum,cleansing their existence from Middle Earth.He had fought with limb,with rock,with water,with root against bararum wielding steel,iron,flame and acid.They would learn the error of their ways in dealing with the oldest living being in Middle Earth next to Iarwain Ben-Adar.

With the quickness inherent of a roused Ent,him and the Ents around him ripped apart buildings and walls made of stone within Isengard,including the walls within it.They would make perfect ammunition in dealing with the bararum from long range.

They warg riders charged at the human archers, holding their swords high and ready to strike.

Haldir nodded, "My men are rested, elves need little sleep, we shall march to your brothers aid now."

He smiled and bowed again before turning back towards the 'camp', he whistled twice and immidetly elves where moving into collom, they began marching towards the river.

They crossed the south, elven paddles making barly any noise in the deep dark water, they slipped past the sentrys as one by one elven boats arrive, a few unfortunt Orcs saw them but didn't live long enough to raise a alarm, elven arrows saw to that.

He then marched his men back into the city to where they could here the crys of battle, he saw Warg riders charging at the rangers and reconised Boromirs brother in the middle of the fray, protecting his men with his sword.

The elevs began to silently creat there own ambush, a deadly crossfire in a street which the rrangers where retreating down. Haldir watched as one perticually large rider was downed by Faramir, only for the captain to lose his sword in the creatures body. he began to run but Haldir shot the persuing Orc from his saddle, then morioned to his men to fire.

Hundreds of arrows spat from suined buildings, expertly targeted at the orcs, missing the humans by inches and finding Orc flesh.

OOC: Sorry for Rping your caracters a bit.

Morwen sat by the fire, she got out her pipe and put some strong smelling leaves in.

'this stuff is the best, it cleanses your soul' she said, releasing large grey puffs.

After smoking her pipe she saw the elves disappear, she decided to follow and saw Faramir & Boromir fighting, her horse was uneasy she had made sure to put the mithril armour on the horses back, she got her bow and arrow charging through the mob of orcs - secret elven spells protecting them.

she had soon run out of arrows, she slid her long sword out and slashed all the near dead orcs, she trotted over to Haldir.

'what else do you need my lord?' she asked, puffing and panting, a small red line on her cheek.

Darahil rode back towards Osgiliath, with him were 2,000 archers, and they was silent as death. He could hear the sounds of battle from over the river in Osgiliath. He approached Boromir

Greetings my lord, I am sorry to tell you that Quiach fell in combat with the leader of the Corsairs. I must also ask if there is anything my men can do to help your rangers, they are not as good as your rangers, or, as i saw on my way here, the elves, but they can still fire and hit a bullseye from 200 paces.

As the numerous arrows hit the orchish horde the call for reinforcements was heard and another group of warg riders took it upon themselves to hunt down the elves. Crossbowmen and infantry was brought up as well to give them the upper hand, should the elves choose to remain and fight instead of rout.

But overall the situation was rather good, the new wall on the river bank was almost finished and soldiers and ballistas guarded it, the palisades were about to be erected as soon as the enemy was driven away and they had plenty of supplies. The orcs had also found some trees that miracously had survived the siege and the commander had told the armourers to begin work on one of his new secret weapons.

OOC: I don't really mind, but my men were on the edge of the forest, not in the city.

IC: Eastern Osgiliath, Gondor
Faramir struck about him at the warg riders, downing dozens, as his men poured flaming fire into the enemy as they retreated. The raid was somewhat successful, they had surely delayed Sauron's preparations. His men retreated into the forest, many swiftly climbing trees before the wargs arrived and poured their fire down on the wargs from their high perches. However, Faramir signalled his men to continue to retreat along the treetops, for he did not want to be cornered.

Western Osgiliath, Gondor
"My men would appreciate your support, surely. Possibly an attack on the south flank would draw their troops off. I am sorry Quaich has perished, he was always a loyal man and brave warrior," said Boromir.

''Halt, do not pursue them any farer away than this deep inside the forests. Return to camp but watch out for any ambushes.''

2,000 archers paddled swiftly across the river, each had muffled oars and their wepons darkened. As the lead boat touched the opposite shores, Darahil leapt out, his fine armour replaced with light leather armour to help his aim. A shortbow was nestled in his arm. He could see the rangers in the wood to the north, and he swiftly outlined his plan and went forward.

5 minutes later, all his men were in position, the other leaders alerted of his position. His men were using normal arriows, for fast swift death, not fire arrows, they could give his position away before it was time. With his newly-appointed second in command, a young Prince Imrahil, making the curlew call for the signal, 2,000 arrows were knocked to strings, and went wooshing into the k=night

OOC: where can Morwen go where she will be 'used' for battle or anything

This was the fighting the elves where best at, they covered there armour with there clokes so they where near invisable in the woods and persued the Orc's into the city, staying a safe distance and herassing them, staying out of enermy arrow range. When the enermy attempted to drive them off they retreated and drew the enermy into ambushes and traps in the woods.

Haldir saw more human arcers approach and decided that they where now in a good persition, he sent 1000 men north to lay traps and ambushes in the routes that led to the ruined city, 500 more would harras the orcs in the city itself, killing sertrys, setting tents on fire and retreating if the enermy tried to drive them away, another 500 where building fets and creating a base-camp in the trees. elves where natural climbers and quickly many fets where built, almost invisable but covering almost every entrence to the forest. it would take a lot to dislodge the elves, as every tree would have to be climbed or cut down to kill the elven archers inside.

Haldir didn't see how the enermy had any other choice but to try to defeat the elves in the forest and if they did not then they would be under constant herrasment in the city and would lose many supplys and men on the way to the city.

He had co-ordiate his efforts with Faramir and Darahil and he went over to see them, inviting them up into the first fet to be completed, deep in the forest it would be used as his own base, he spoke.

"Lord Faramir, Lord Darahil, I congrate you on your victory today if we can call it that. However I balive that our forces are stuck on this bank, I have sent men north to attack enermy supply lines and have a good few in the city itself, herassing there camps and bases. I am creating a base in the trees and I shall operate from here."

"This forest should become a death trap for the orcs, as my people are used to defending the trees of Lorien and we shall not be easly defeated here. I invite your men to join us, together we have a force of around 5,000 men, I think we can easly hide them all in the trees, without much trouble. Form here we can strike out at the city and there supply lines."

"We are behind the enermy now and I think that we should use this to our advantage."

OOC: Basically Gurrila war.

OOC: can morwen do Aust's thing, she WAS with Haldir originally.

As the arrows hit the orcs and the wall, the orcs responded by firing flaming arrows unto the bach to provide illumination. As the archers were spotted the crossbowmen released a massive volley of bolts at the enemy, several thousands with greater force than a simply bow could provide.

OOC: I wrote that they tried to avoid traps and ambushes but it doesn't matter.

IC:
The large catapults turned and fired volley after volley of pots with burning tar into the forest while the warg riders retreated.
In the city, the defenses wre completed, high walls and sturdy gates cut off parts of the city from the others, making it impossible to reach the camp without being noticed.

OOC: can morwen do Aust's thing, she WAS with Haldir originally.
OOC: Sure,

RL,w ho are you fring at?

OOC: fring? :confused:

IC: Morwen rode her other stronger bigger horse to where Haldir was.

'Sir...can I help you?' she asked, drawing her blood stained sword, her one beautiful face was now covered in scars, cuts and blood, her amazing hair now bloody and wet.

OOC: Sure,

RL,w ho are you fring at?
OOC: The zombies hehehe who roleplays as Dol Amroth.

Faramir looked up, and saw the trebuchets continuing to fire on the enemy position, coated in flaming tar to bring down the enemy's walls and destroy their catapults. He then turned to Haldir, and said, "I ahve ten thousand men, we are willing to join you in the forest, I believe it would be better if we coordinated our attacks." He ordered his second-in-command, Serethar, to counter-attack against the retreating wargs, while remaining within cover. The men slung their longbows over their shoulders and moved to the edge of the forest to assist Darahil. Some men also built snares and pits at the edge of the forest, a deadly suprise for the enemy.

Faramir noticed a young woman come up, he said, "I will have healers attend to you if you wish, you can join the assault with me in a minute if you would like to help."

Morwen saw Faramir, it was true what the other women had said, he was so handsome and bold.
'I am alright, they are just scars' she said, getting on her horse and following him.

Darahil sprinted back to his men. He had only just arrived in the fet(OOC: whats that?)and started to talk to the fellow leaders, when the crossbows started slamming their bolts of black feathered death into his men. Before he had left he had said that he was reluctant to have his men revealed as to who they were, as the orcs still had no idea Dol Amrothians were there as far as he knew, but if the need arose, his ships could rescue the men on the orcs side of the river.

He fired a shot off his bow as he ran, and was rewarded by the sight of the orc he had aimed for fall off the orcs wall. He felt confident still, his men were in the cover of the buildings and the woods. The odd flaming ball had illuminating some of his men, but the majority were still hidden, the orcs not knowing where the shots were cming from as it was still dark.
The orcs on the other hand were easy to see, their silouhettes stark outlines against the orcs' fires in the camp behind them. They had more powerful weapons, but they were nowhere near as accurate as the men of Dol Amroth, and at least the men could see their foes.

OOC: Aust, how can you build "fets" in the trees when i thought Relative Liberty said all the trees were cut down on his side of the river?

OoC: So far, I see no protests Caladonn. Does your decision still stand?

OOC: Yes it does, if everyone else is OK with it. Neither people are too powerful, and you have rped well.

IC: Outskirts of Eastern Osgiliath, Gondor
"Very well, I admire your endurance, follow me," Faramir said as he mounted up in one smooth motion, and galloped along under the high boughs until he reached the edge of the forest, and the cries of battle were heard as he jumped off his horse and drew his bow and several well-fletched arrows at the same time. He moved down the line of men, firing fast but precisely as he shouted encouragement to his rangers. The men wer not taking too much damage, as the trees and darkness, not to mention their stealth and dark clothing, protecting them from fire. They were spread out under the trees, taking shots at the orcs.

OOC: Fets are like treehouse, Zombies, and theres a bloody huge forest, I presume the burning tar was fired at the forest.

IC: The great globs of fire set the treetops on fire but where quickly put out with water, carried in helmates and makshift buckets, to the trees.

the elves joined in the fight on the edges of the forest, meanwhile those in the city retreated.

OO: RL, do you have any supply convoys?

2,500 rangers that had been wounded but were now recuperated helped put out the flames.

OOC: I would think he would have to, at least from Minas Ithil/Morgul but possibly from the Black Gate.

Darahil saw that the sun was beginning to rise, and so he and his men slipped back to their canes, and paddled back across the river to once again hide with the Gondorians, and conceal their identity, over 200 were injured or dead, and they were sent back to the main camp.

The elves arrvied at Osigalth and offered any help that could be done.

Plains of Rohan
In the dark of the night,the mighty forest stormed across the Plains of the Rohirrim,headed for the Southern Gate of Gondor.From there,they would stop at Osgiliath before heading into Ithilien.

Thrakthun gave a loud bellow,rumbling the ground around him.Such energy as the Ent had felt few times in his long life.Not since the battles of the Second Age against the bararum hordes,so long ago,had he felt so vital,so....Entlike.Treebeard had roused him from his slumber in the deeps of Fangorn,near his groves,and cleansed the horde around Lothlorien he had.

Now,it was time to aid the mortal men and elves of Middle Earth against the coming darkness.

The Golden forest of Lothlorien, the home of the Lady of the Silver Webs. She would cast a spell on you, some said, and you would be lost in her veils of trickery for ever and ever...

Khamùl the Easterling, Nazgùl and servant of the Burning Eye of Mordor, let his hords of orcs flow forth from the depths of Mirkwood. They crossed the land east of the Great River in two evenings of forced march, arriving at the shores of the great river Anduin by night on the third day. Construction of a great many rafts was begun, and along with the lumber parties clusters of great, bloated spiders tussled away into the darkness of night, multi-faceted eyes weary for any would-be enemies...

* * *

It seemed as though the slopes of the mountain itself shivered and rumbled as a vast host of orcs poured forth the bowels of Moria, through the Eastern Gate and on into the Nirn Valley, flanking the Silverload river on both sides. Ishaq Yrmgren, Warlord of Moria, could only lead his troops by night however, as the comming of day forced his men to halt. They would rave around in states of chaotic blindness should they be confronted by the rays of the sun.

To counter this, a grouping of Cave Trolls had been drawn up from those venerable depths of Moria to act as hard-hitting sentries should any enemy incursions come upon them by day. They were not so greatly culled by the presence of the sun, as the orcs were.

OOC: you're wrong there.... do you remeber the Hobbit?? when the trolls were kept arguing by Gandlaf until the break of day... do you remeber what happened to them?? they were turned to stone.... nice sentries i have to t say:LOL

OOC: Are you moving to attack me?

Western Osgiliath, Gondor
Boromir welcomed the elves of Mithlond, and was also greatly heartened when he was informed of a great many ents coming to aid Gondor.

OoC: Yes Aust, so it would appear.

Zombies: I'm not quite certain I agree with you there, the breed of trolls Bilbo and the dwarfs ran into turned to stone at the comming of dwan, but that is not neccesarily the case with all members of that foul race.

Remember when the gate of Minas Tirith was breached? The first ranks to move forward through that breach were composed of trolls, sure as sure, and you don't see them turning to stone anytime soon, now do you?

OOC: yes i do agree with you there, but in the books, the trolls Gandalf meets and gets turned to stone are mountain trolls, they would be able to survive ion Mordor because Mordor is clouded in perpetual darkness, that is one of the little mistakes the film makers made. Also the trolls that form the first ranks are Mordor Trolls, not Mountain trolls so you chosen the breed that turns to stone.

OoC: I still disagree with you ... or do I?

You know, upon closer inspection here, I think you may might just be right. Oh well, some sentries then. Thanks for pointing this out! In the future I guess we can just disregard the trolls.

OOC: I thought they where a mix between trolls and Uruks, see the Appdecies and Weapons and Warfare.

IC: The Lady of Loth Lorien watched the Orc horde surge across the plains, reaching the Anduin. Sure of there intention she made her way down from the mirror and towards Celborn.

A Orc Horde,she told him It approches, many hundreds of Orcs shalll arrive soon, we must prepare our defences. He nodded and went to prepare his men.

OOC: My spelling is awful-sorry.

OOC: Yes it does, if everyone else is OK with it. Neither people are too powerful, and you have rped well.

IC: Outskirts of Eastern Osgiliath, Gondor
"Very well, I admire your endurance, follow me," Faramir said as he mounted up in one smooth motion, and galloped along under the high boughs until he reached the edge of the forest, and the cries of battle were heard as he jumped off his horse and drew his bow and several well-fletched arrows at the same time. He moved down the line of men, firing fast but precisely as he shouted encouragement to his rangers. The men wer not taking too much damage, as the trees and darkness, not to mention their stealth and dark clothing, protecting them from fire. They were spread out under the trees, taking shots at the orcs.

she blushed as he galloped off to the battle, she shortly followed with her new arrows in her quiver.

Lands south of Minas Tirith

Thrakthun at the head of the mighty army of the Ents and trees entered the lands around Minas Tirith,angered by the senseless despoilation and ruin visited upon it by the bararum.

Across the plains,the great army thundered towards Osgiliath and the River Anduin,churning earth and rock in their wake.Their first stop....the Southern Gate of Gondor.

OOC: yes i do agree with you there, but in the books, the trolls Gandalf meets and gets turned to stone are mountain trolls, they would be able to survive ion Mordor because Mordor is clouded in perpetual darkness, that is one of the little mistakes the film makers made. Also the trolls that form the first ranks are Mordor Trolls, not Mountain trolls so you chosen the breed that turns to stone.

Melkor/Morgoth originally captured Ents and made trolls of them, these were well capable of withstanding sunlight, some of them took part in the sacking of Gondolin(where there were no clouds at all). The Cave trolls are much like Goblins derived from the early trolls and orcs, who lived underground for so long that they could no longer stand the sunlight(or maybe trolls buried themselves like the Balrogs and many other creatures of Melkor/Morgoth did). Sauron bred his own Mordor trolls like those Melkor once made.

OOC: When trolls assaulted Minas Tirith, they were in perpetual darkness over the land made by Sauron. Even if they were of a different breed, most likely trolls of Moria would be light-sensitive. No time now, but IC post later.

OOC: Cala - did you get my last post about Morwen blushing then going to help Faramir (who she is very fond of ;) )

Bump

OOC: Cala? :D Oh well, yes I did. But didn't you say you were just going to use United Isles?

IC: Great Southern Gate, Minas Tirith, Gondor
Essethar, Interim Steward, gazed down from the tower on the mighty host of ents arrayed below. Such an army had not walked the lands of Middle-Earth in nigh on 1,000 years, and he was amazed. This would prove a great force to combat Sauron. He descended the steps to speak with the foremost ent.

Eastern Osgiliath, Gondor
Faramir strung three more arrows into his bow, firing them off simultaeniously, killing two of the vile orcs. He moved along the line of men, his bowstring a blur as he shouted encouragement to his men, who doggedly fired shaft after burning shaft into the enemy horde. He noticed Morwen, and flashed her a quick smile before continuing on.

OOC: ewwww soppy romance :fluffle: :mp5: :sniper: hehe

IC:Darahil returned to the fets of the elves on his own, in bland unmarked leather armour. The rest of his force was safely hidden again. There had been no activity around the enemy camp for some time, it had been quiet, too quiet.

He saw that the battle was still flaring, and he ran and joined the Gondorian line in the woods, exchanging arrows with the orcs. He saw Faramir, and he used the cover to move towards him, only stopping to replenish his arrows from the quivers of dead Gondorians, and even taking the black fletched ones of Mordor (unless they're using crossbows??)

OOC: any news of Rohan Caladonn?

Haldir saw the skirmish around the edge of the woods and sent his brother with 20 men to help. They made there way to the edge of the city, camaflarged in there Lorien cloaks, then they drew there bows and let fly at the foul creatures.

Come nightfall, more than three quarters of the Dol Guldur host had crossed the river Anduin. Khamùl the Easterling ordered a base camp to be put up here, and then began dividing his forces up into teams of hunting and scouting parties. To ensure a steady supply of fresh food for the war-effort, mobs of orcs dismantled the rafts with which they had used to cross the river, and then carried the wood on into the Golden wood for about half a mile to spread it out into a wide perimeter before them. They would then put this trail of lumber and kindling ablaze, and retreat to the banks of the Anduin as the assembled hunting parties would move forward to catch and slay any creatures fleeing from the encroaching flames.

* * *

At the western side of the Golden Wood, a slow train of lumbering Moria orcs began to move as the cover of night blanketed the land. The daylight was blinding to most of Ishaq’s men, and so they would fortify themselves as best they could before the coming of dawn, and wait out the rays of the scorching sun under the cover of their tents and lean-to’s.

Like Khamùl’s advancing horde, the Moria orcs would also set wide swaths of forest ablaze as they progressed deeper and deeper into the Golden woods. Unlike Khamùl’s horde however, this was not done under any semblance of order save for the wish to destroy. Clashes with any significant elven forces had yet to come, and many orcs were happy enough to distract themselves with a few odd bonfires.

* * *

The large plumes of black, tarry smoke would certainly be visible to any perceptible eyes watching the eastern and western skies from both Carad Galadhon and Cerin Amroth (the only names of any Lothlorian cities I could find. I believe the first one to be the capital city)

The Dol Amrothians in Umbar(will post numbers when i have trawled thruough all my earlier posts hehe) set off in land, they're plan was to hit Mrodor from behind, they wold skirt the great ring of mountain surrouding the foul land, and when they came to the east end where there were no mountains, only fertile lands, they would free the slaves and help them rise in revolt again Sauron.

With jubilant hearts they set off, passing through Umbar with ease, there was no one there to stop them.

OOC:Number= Osgiliath- 7,500 Swan Knights, 8,800 Archers, 8,500 Men-at-Arms, 35 ships
Dol Amroth(capital city)-500 Swan Knights, 1,000 Men-at-Arms, 5,000 Archers
20 ships(sent back from Umbar)
Umbar-500 Swan Knights, 4,000 Men-at-Arms, 2,000 Archers

any1 got objections??

OOC: I was under the impression that they are all part of one city, that is the wood.

IC: Galdrial watched as the Orcs killed trees that had stood in there glades for thousands of years, setting off bonfires that had yet to burn out.

arrayed against her wood where two mighty hosts, each outnumbering her perthetic forces by untold numbers. She had but 4,000 trained soildiers and sveral more thousands of women and children who where being armed and given basic training, just being told how to swing a sword and fire a arrow.

She had to conserve her forces, while she still resided with the ring inside the wood then Lorien had hope. The ring would heal her peoples hurts and supliment her power and from what she could see there where none in the Orc hosts that where her match, none who could defeat a ring-bearer of her power.

She walked down the marble steps of the great hall and bid her advisors and maids to leave her. She made her way into her own private quaters and then opened a secret compagment in the wood, known only to her and her husband.

Inside sat her and his armour and sword, unused for mellenia since the war of the Last Allince. They where butiful peaces of craft, made by the dewarves, helmates and corsets of mithril, swords of the finest steel tempered beyond belif, inset with perisous jewls. And then coated with gold so that it shone in the sunlight. There was no armour like it on earth, it had been made at the hight of high elven power, in Gondolin itself before the fall.

She reached in and pulled it, marvelling at how fine the mithril felt beneath her fingers. Then she put it on, the dragon-helm claping onto her head, safe from even dragon fire. She lifted the visor and pulled out the swrod and bow, putting them in elven fashion over her shoulder, with the quiver of arrows.

She drew the sword and had a few testing swings, it was as sharp as ever, even 3,000 years after it had last been sharpened. She was a match, no more than a match, for any man on earth.

She walked out of her room and watched as the elves looked in amazement upon her. For most they had never seen her in armour like it. Her me all ye elves! she cried to them, The hour is dark adn the flames of the Ondurin rise once more into the dark of the sky, The enermy himself steps forward to challage the elves once more and the first-born shall answer that challange.

They come from east adn west, burning and pillaging as they come, they bring death to us, there death. Go, arm yourselves for now is the hour of ourtriumph, the last triumph of the first born in Middle Earth. And with that the assembled elves cheered and ran towards there homes, ready to arm themselves and die for the Lady of the Wood.

But Gladrial herself turned and there was sadness in her eyes for she knew that should they triumph then it would be a hollow victory as the elves would leave afterwoulds, for her love of middle earth was gone.

She sent out partys of elves, elves that made there way towards the burning forest, fired off arrows and then retreated into the deapths of the forest, before the enermy could respond, putting the Orcs under constant attack.

She knew that the orcs would advance across the Nimrodel that night and she would not let them cross the river lightly, many orcs would fie in the crossing of the powerful river that was one of the few in Lorien that need boats to cross as there where no bridges. She ordered her men to set up defences on the over side of where the Orcs would probably cross and there the elves would extract a heavy toll on the orcs.

It was less easy to decided what to do about the Orcs of Dol Guldur, but she decided to attack them from cover and then retreat, retreating until they reached the walls of the elven city.

OOC: Cala? :D Oh well, yes I did. But didn't you say you were just going to use United Isles?

Eastern Osgiliath, Gondor
Faramir strung three more arrows into his bow, firing them off simultaeniously, killing two of the vile orcs. He moved along the line of men, his bowstring a blur as he shouted encouragement to his men, who doggedly fired shaft after burning shaft into the enemy horde. He noticed Morwen, and flashed her a quick smile before continuing on.

OOC: sorry i use both at the same time, my browser mucks it all up

IC:
Morwen smiled back, but at the same time her horse was shot in the leg, it fell to the ground in agony, Morwen was catapulted out of the saddle and landed in a heap, she crept over to her horse and said prayers to its soul, she wandered around trying to find Faramir, or a spare horse, she was still armed and chopping the enemy down easily.

OOC:I'm confused, where is all this taking place?

OOC: where is what taking place?

OOC: That battle you're having. I don't see any posts saying anyone attacked my camp, except that party of archers that are under fire on the beach.

OOC: well i dont know...leave me out of it :) im just a single person

Elves. One moment they were there, and the next moment not. Quelgo’s breath came in pained wheezes as he leaned heavily against a nearby tree, struggling to catch his breath. The others were dead. Dead or at least too wounded to go back for, heck – it was a greater chance he’d kiss his own arse than go back for any of those dung wipes.
It had all been too calm, and so quiet. Egdor had just stuck his torch into another pyre of kindling and bawled at them to keep moving, and the next moment he’d just been lying there with two arrow-shafts in his throat! –and not a pointy-eared face to be seen… He hadn’t bothered much about the others after that, but just concentrated on keeping his legs moving. How far he’d run he didn’t know, but once the screams had stopped behind, he’d taken a running jump across a clump of bushes, trotted on up a small hill, and here he was.

He’d better try to make his way back to the camp then, and lie low there for a while. Anything was better than staying another moment out here amongst these damn elves!
There was whooshing sound behind him, and two moments later a long, slender arrow-shaft rose defiantly from his chest. With a small croak, Quelgo toppled over and hit the ground with a thud…

* * *

Ishaq’s left hand went absentmindedly up to scratch at his blister-filled cheek again, his mind racing. Damn the pointy-eared dung-guzzlers! Damn their hides and damn their arrows! Near to five dozen boys had been counted too wounded or in most cases too dead to keep fighting this night alone. These numbers exceeded even the ones from yesterday, and if things kept going like this they’d have to send for more boys from Moria much quicker than anticipated. In the meantime, all the rest of his boys could do was to keep the fires burning, and make sure the Golden wood was consumed by fire, inch by inch, meter by meter. Covering behind shields didn’t do you much good, but neither did charging in the direction the silent rain of arrows had come from. Most of his boys had taken to jumping behind the nearest cover as soon as the first arrows began whistling, while those who didn’t charged screaming on into the darkness of the wood… All too often, that would be the last anyone ever saw of them, until one perhaps stumbled upon a cluster of them a few days later when you’d burned your way a little distance onwards, all crisp and charred and dead as you pleased. Ishaq felt a sudden urge to pummel something into a shapeless pulp rise inside him. With this in mind, assaulting the fortifications his scouts had reported seeing further on along the banks of the river did not seem like a good idea. Fire would be the only option, he would burn them out of their trees and hiding places even though it would be a slow going. He only hoped his allies were faring better.

* * *

On the eastern side of the forest, the Dol Guldur horde was faring a tad bit better against the elven menace, although things would have had to be truly horrendous for the situation to be considered worse than on the western side. With his orcs not as vulnerable to sunlight as their Moria counterparts, Khamùl could command the bulk of his forces to keep up with their slashing and burning tactics even as the sun rose towards noon. Second, the hosts of bloated spiders he had brought with him from Mirkwood had also been found to work well as viable sentries against the elven incursions. Many burning-parties had reported terrible losses and heavy causalities all around, if there was anyone left to report anything at all, that was. Still the wall of fire crept on towards the capital of Lothlorien, and Khamùl found himself wondering if the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood felt fear now, as the first flakes of ash would begin to rain down upon their forest home? He hoped they were, and if not, the Burning Eye would see to it that they did…

OOC: i am bored :( can Morwen do something? how often does Caladonn come on? wish he was on now, im the mood for a bit of romantic development.

Bump

OOC: Sorry, I'm usually on at least once a day, but have been busy. Relative Liberty, my rangers with Faramir and Morwn are firing from the north, and Dol Amroth is attacking from the south.

IC: Western Osgiliath, Gondor
Faramir continued firing on the horde, but saw that Morwen's horse was hurt, and, dodging the arrows flying around, went to help her up.

OOC: ok :) do you have MSN Caladonn?

IC:

Morwen saw Faramir come to help her.
'No...leave, I am alright' she said, limping along.
'I don't want you to get hurt' she said smiling, she gently kissed him on the cheek, then saw a loose horse, she athletically jumped onto it and went to join Faramir at his side.

http://www.rpgplanet.com/memw/tta/screenshots/characters/morwen/04s.jpg - another pic of Morwen

Galdirial watched as the flames slowly encroached on the Golden wood, consuming trees that had stood for years. Her men where creating havoc among the Orc scum but to no avail.

She watched ass the fire in the west was halted at the Nimrodel, there way no way for it to cross that river and her men guarded it from Orc crossing and flaming arrows, the clear water putting out the flames.

In the east the situation was more desperate, but not irritrivable. Using the power of her ring she sent great gusts of wind away from her, blowing the flames out of back towards the Orcs.

Morwen whilst riding, could hear the plight of the elves, she whistled and called a beautiful hawk to her shoulder, he told her what had been happening, she spoke in elven tongue to the bird, who then flew away to Galadriel.

Southern Gate of Gondor
Thrakthun looked down at the leader of Men before him.He was a mite compared to the enormous mass and size of Thrakthun,but radiated a sense of command about him.From his long years,Thrakthun could see the faint hints at the mortals Numenorean heritage.


In a rumbling voice that sounded like gravel sliding over tempered steel,Thrakthun addressed the mortal.

Young One,I am Thrakthun,leader of this Entwood before you.Long have we heard of your plight,from the animals of Middle Earth who witness the slaughter and despoilation of their forest homes by the filthy bararum.We come to cleanse the lands of this evil,and bid you tell me your name.The Ents of Middle Earth stand with the Elves and Men of Middle Earth,as many of my brethren and I did so long ago in the Elder Days.

With an intake of breath Essethar could only look up at the Ent in awe.A creature of such great power,no,an ARMY of such great creatures had come to aid Gondor in its darkest hour.There was still hope........

Isengard

"UNLEASH THE RIVER" bellowed Treebeard.In the language of the elves,the proper name for Treebeard was Fangorn,after the forest home he ruled.The oldest living being in Middle Earth,among his peers were Gandalf,Elrond Halfelven,Galadriel and Cirdan.

About him thrashed Ents,many of them locked in combat with bararum,flinging them every which way.With great sweeps of his flailing limbs,he scattered the Uruk Hai like so much leaf litter.Uruk Hai berserkers leapt upon him,only to be swatted aside and their bodies trampled underfoot to mix with the slime of Isengard and the ichor of other Uruk Hai.For every rare tree that fell to the Uruks,thousands upon thousands of Uruk were torn apart by the trees,Treemen,Huorns and other Ents.Creepers tore through steel and rock alike,acidic sap mist corroding away even the strongest armour and the greatest heros of the Uruks.

Dam of the Isen

With little in the way of subtlety,Bloodsoil used his immense strength to rip apart the supports holding up the dam.As the raging torrent tumbled upon him,the size and power of the wall of water was a spectacle to behold.A great wall of water that would sweep even a troll clean of its feet crashed upon Bloodsoil and flowed down the channel towards Isengard.

Bloodsoil simply shrugged it off and climbed to higher ground,letting the torrent cleanse him of his wearies.With the water was swept away a great many bodies of bararum,flowing down into the Isengard valley,there to join their brethren in the massacre that was occuring.

As he reached dry ground,a single raven cawed and landed on his branches.Its eyes locked with his,and it began to speak to him of trouble in Lothlorien,where Thrakthun had defeated the initial wave of Orckind.......

Bump

OOC: has this thread gone dead or what?! wheres Caladonn?!

OOC: No, this thread is still alive, but I don't have MSN. Sorry I haven't been able to post often. Also, I still haven't gotten a reply from Saxonius, so Rohan is now available. And Shakra, of course there's still hope for Gondor :mad: :D.

IC: Minas Tirith, Gondor
Essethar gazed upwards at the mighty ent, his helmet practically falling off. However, he quickly regained his composure, and bowed to the elder creature. "Gondor is honored to fight alongside you for our freedom," he said. "Steward Boromir and the elves are beset at Osgiliath, so if you wish to help that would be the place of greatest danger."

Eastern Osgiliath, Gondor
Faramir was bewildered. Although he was a seasoned warrior and veteran of the battles of Gondor, destroyer of countless vile foes, he was quite out of his expertise in love. However, he suddenly realised that he was standing at the edge of the forest with orc arrows whistling around, and so returned to his senses.
"My lady, I have been hurt before, I have even survived the blade of a Nazgul, these petty orcs can do nothing," he replied, as he ducked behind a tree and continued firing at a bewildering rate, his fingers blurred as they traveled from quiver to bow and back again. "However, I suggest you do not make a target of yourself on that horse," he shouted over the din of battle.

OOC: ok

IC:
she smiled
'i have been told by many that you are a brave fighter, i have to agree' she said, jumping off her horse, she gave him a kiss.

'thank you' she said, softly.

BUMP: can't do anything until i get a Orcy update.

OOC: That battle you're having. I don't see any posts saying anyone attacked my camp, except that party of archers that are under fire on the beach.
OOC: Won't write until someone answer this.

OOC: bump - I need Caladonn to come on and post

OOC: Won't write until someone answer this.
OOC: Nothing to do with me-my archers are waiting for you to come to me.

OOC: fine relative liberty, but i was waiting for u...

IC: It was dark, almost pitch black, the dead of night. In the ruins of Osgiliath, five thousand archers of Dol Amroth waited. They heard Imrahil's curlew cry once more, and a group of two hundred men to the north set flams to their arrows, they pulled back their strings and let fly.

The other 4,800 men waited until the flaming arrows were arcing down towards the orc camp, and set off their non flaming arrows. While theorcs would scurry around avoiding the fire arrows, they would be hit by the almost invisible against the night sky shafts of their own. They fired another two volleys, then silently returned to the river bank, leaving only 300 sharp shooters with Imrahil at their head, to snipe at any orcs foolish enough to strive to see them. That would be near impossible as well, each was hidden well among the buildings, and it was still dark.

OOC: Imrahil is not my commander, he is my second in command, just wait until Darahil dies tho, then he will be and the famous lad will lead Dol Amroth... unless he dies first

Eastern Osgiliath, Gondor
"Why are you thanking me?" he said, as he tried to ignore her kiss and focus on the fighting. It was all too much to process at once. He also called up a messenger, and hastily scrawled a note to Prince Darahil of Dol Amroth, Dear Prince Darahil,
My rangers, although not too heavily wounded, are becoming tired with the incessant fighting, and it may be in both of our best interests to withdraw across the Anduin to the bulk of the Gondorian force. However, I wish to do this in concert so Sauron has no opportunity to attack one of us alone. I await your response.
May your swords stay sharp,
Faramir, Captain of Gondor

Darahil was resting in safety
Imrahil got the note, and sent one back. Myself and my men are leaving at the first rays of dawn. Until then we will continue sniping, we will cover your retreat if need be, then slink off quietly. Live long and Prosper friend

As the messenger was leaving,m Imrahil called him back.

P.S, don't get too involved with that ranger, women addle the senses... or so i am told

He sent men round to the others telling them they would stay until dawn, and to save at least one of their spare quivers in case they were called upon to enact a hasty and fighting retreat. He also sent a messneger back to Darahil, asking for 1,000 archers to be stationed on the Gondorian side of the rver.

OOC: sorry bout star trek just felt the need to

OOC:No note to my men?

Eastern Osgiliath, Gondor
"Why are you thanking me?" he said, as he tried to ignore her kiss and focus on the fighting. It was all too much to process at once. He also called up a messenger, and hastily scrawled a note to Prince Darahil of Dol Amroth, Dear Prince Darahil,
My rangers, although not too heavily wounded, are becoming tired with the incessant fighting, and it may be in both of our best interests to withdraw across the Anduin to the bulk of the Gondorian force. However, I wish to do this in concert so Sauron has no opportunity to attack one of us alone. I await your response.
May your swords stay sharp,
Faramir, Captain of Gondor

'I don't know' she said, embarrased.
'where do you want me to fight?' she asked,

Imrahil clambered slowly up the trees into the fet, he had come to the elves himself.
My Lord Haldir, greetings. My men and those of Gondor are withdrawing back to the other side of the river at dawn. My men will stayt till last, and will cover any retreat you would like to make if u would.

As he said that he poked his head out through the cover of thefet, and sent an aroowspeeding off to claim yet another orc life.

ooc: caladonn pls post *pulls innocent puppy face*

OOC: Sparklemist or three united isles.... Caladonn posts whenever he omes online. However he cant be on the internet every hour of every day so just wait for him to post

OOC: United Isles/Sparklemist, I don't mean to sound annoyed, because I'm not, but Morwen can do things on her own I assume.

IC:Eastern Osgiliath, Gondor
"So long as orcs are killed, anywhere you wish to fight is fine," replied Faramir. "You seem like a very competent fighter, so if you wish, you can stay with the rearguard to get the rangers to safety at dawn. Until then, if you prefer close combat, look for orcs coming close to the forest, otherwise, simply fire at whichever vile minion of Sauron is in your vision."

Morwen nodded and abandoned her horse, she ran into a group of 'vile minions' and slashed and shot at them - she had never had so much fun before- they were so easy to kill

''Send forth a search party and release the... secret weapon!'' said the numenor as more arrows cut deep into the shields his men were hiding behind.
Through the gate two hundred warg riders, 150 swordsmen marched. They didn't carry torches so they wouldn't be as easy to find in the darkness. And with them there was a... werewolf. Its keen senses would help them in their hunt for the snipers.

Moria Orcs:

Stumped by the presence of the Nimrodel before them, the orcs appeared to halt for a while, unsure of how to mount a proper offensive against the elves on the other side. Come nightfall, Ishaq sent a runner with a call for more Orcs to join the wareffort from Moria, the reinforcements would be badly needed.

So while a runner made his way through the smoking ashlands Lothlorien west of the Nimrodel, Ishaq moved his forces under the cover of darkness, away from their positions by the river, leaving only a minor detatchement to launch the occational volley of arrows at the forest on the other side.

They would cross the mighty river further upstream. The Nimrodel was long and mighty, and Ishaq put his faith into the belief that the elves would not have enough manpower available to halt landings at several different locations at once.

* * *

Dol Guldur Host:

The tang of ash and woodsmoke tingled in the nostrils of the orcs. They had long since left the river far behind, and were quite busy putting the surrounding forest to the torch when a sudden gust of wind washed over them, tossing some orcs flat on their backs and even putting out several fires!

Khamùl the Easterling, Sauron's right hand, could sense the presence of the Lady of the Wood. She flexed her muscles now, this was a show of her power, and impressive though that was, he had power of his own...

( ...Nine rings for Mortal Men... )

With the power of the Burning Eye Khamùl attempted to stump the lady's efforts, negating her gusts of wind against the infernos his men had created by the use of his obscene sorcery.

And so, while Khamùl busied himself with these efforts, two large groups of Orcs marched eastwards through Lothlorien. In time, one would make the treck north while another would travel south, effectivly surrounding the Lothlorien capital in a pincer manuver, putting it under siege.

( ...Nine rings for Mortal Men... )

With the power of the Burning Eye Khamùl attempted to stump the lady's efforts, negating her gusts of wind against the infernos his men had created by the use of his obscene sorcery.

And so, while Khamùl busied himself with these efforts, two large groups of Orcs marched eastwards through Lothlorien. In time, one would make the treck north while another would travel south, effectivly surrounding the Lothlorien capital in a pincer manuver, putting it under siege.


OOC: sorry but the nine rings that went to mortal men are the rings of the ringwraiths, they were turned by the rings

OOC: And there are no rings in this rpg.

Over 100 of the sharpshooters were dead. The 'thing' had found them. Luckily none had any insignia of Dol Amroth on them. They shot at any orcs that appeared, but they could not slow down the 'thing' that foared and howled like a wolf. The remaining men had retreated to the area where the rangers were. Imrahil ran over to Faramir and gave him news.

My lord there is dark sorcery brewing, and i fear Mordor has made a werewolf. We must pull back over the river and we must do it now. My men will still defend the retreat, butplease get away. I have the only blade among us here that can hurt these things, uness you or one of your men are armed with elvish or Numenorean blades. The elves will be able to hurt it, but please leave and save your men.

It was too late.. they heard the thing burst out of the ruined buildings, and Imrashil ran back to face it, commandiing his men to shott the remainng orcs accompanying it.

Imrahil clambered slowly up the trees into the fet, he had come to the elves himself.
My Lord Haldir, greetings. My men and those of Gondor are withdrawing back to the other side of the river at dawn. My men will stayt till last, and will cover any retreat you would like to make if u would.

As he said that he poked his head out through the cover of thefet, and sent an aroowspeeding off to claim yet another orc life.
Haldir nodded and called for his men to pull back, they had done much and now it was time to retreat. "I shall cover your mens retreat once my men are over the river, that way you may take less losses.

OOC: Actually, all the rings of power except for the One Ring are in this rp.

IC: Eastern Osgiliath, Gondor
"I understand," Faramir replied, while firing into the orcs. "My men will cross the river now, yours should also. I will stay with 100 men as a rearguard, to make sure everyone gets across. 25 of these men have Numenorean blades, including myself, and we can defend against this foul beast. Perhaps you should send most of your men, and join our rearguard with the elves." With that, he turned to his men, and shouted, "RETREAT!" The rangers moved back through the woods, firing as they went into the orc mob. Faramir and his 100 men stayed put, the 25 with numenorean blades in front, ready for the coming onslaught inside the forests perimeter.

The rangers had already reached the ford, and were crossing while covered by archers from the wall.

Morwen saw Faramir fighting the orcs, she had called for another one of her horses, she got on and started to fire further into the mob, she felt a searing pain in her stomach, she had an orc arrow in her hard muscular stomach, she collapsed to her knees, she felt the cold blood run, her head was dizzy.

Eastern Osgiliath

The mighty Entwood split into two,with the large forest or trees and their Ent herders staying well out of range of the orc horde surrounding the besieged city.With patience and a careful strategy,the Ents would chip away at the Orcs.

Stomping into the forest where the elves and men hid among the trees,they scattered large groups of orcs in their wake,running into,over and through them,leaving only carnage in their wake.

As the trees of the forest awoke,a burning anger at the senseless destruction wrought by orkind was kindles in their very cores.Countless Ents,long since turned treelike in their dormancy,slowly began to arise amongst the forest,adding to the great numbers that were surging into the forest.They began to shake themselves into motion,giving an extremely rude shock to the elves and men who hid in their branches,sniping at the Mordorian horde from the safety of the forest.

And at the edges of the forest,approaching the foothills of the mountains,trees and Ents alike began to gouge boulders from the very rocks,readying them for the coming bombardment of the Orcs besieging Osgiliath.

Thrakthun
Thrakthun stomped into Osgiliath via the Anduin.In ages long since past,this had once been his home,until he had herded his trees to Fangorn,when the Numenoreans started to arrive and build their cities of rock and wood.

He could hear the song of the rocks,of the events that had come to pass,of the countless conflicts fought over the once green lands in the wars of Sauron with the mortal kin of Middle Earth.Too long had he neglected the affairs of mortals,which affected Entkind just as much as they did the elves.

He had given command to Rockeater the Redwood,mighty Ent Chief and Keeper of Huorns,leaving to pursue a personal quest for the short time.He owed a debt to an elf long since dead,whose descendants still lived.That ancestor was Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth,and he would repay the debt kept in limbo for so long.

As he approached the location of the Dol Amrothian troops,wading through the river deeps,he sensed a sudden disturbance,as if an aberration of nature stalked the Earth.One he had not felt since the Wars of the Silmaril Jewels,in the distant North,when Morgoth had fought with the Elves for possession of the Silmarils.Werewolves.....and one descended from Karcharoth himself.No ordinary one this werewolf would be.To think that Sauron had such a mighty creature on his side agitated Thrakthun greatly.Such an aberration of nature,with the ferocity and viciousness of a horde of orcs and stronger than a troll.A Greater Werewolf stalked Osgiliath.And it had found Imrahil.

With a bellow of wrath and anxiety,Thrakthun accelerated out of the river and through dozens of ruined buildings towards where he suspected Imrahil to be.Using his massive fist as a club,he battered aside rubble,buildings and orcs until he came across a fierce melee of orcs and men,in the centre of it all Imrahil engaged in mortal combat with Greater Werewolf.

The sudden entrance of the Ent momentarily confused all sides,unsure as to how to react to a giant walking tree suddenly bursting in upon them.Thrakthun decided for them,casting aside orcs with a sweep of his arms as he picked his way toward the centre of the fight.Reacting to the arrival of the Ent,the men surged forward into the orc ranks,while a general circle cleared around where the werewolf and Imrahil fought-fang,claw,inhuman strength,endurance,viciousness and unnatural ferocity raged against the skill,agility,Numenorean steel and courage of Dol Amroth in the form of the fiery Prince Imrahil.

Prince Imrahil had seen the ent. He rejoiced. One of the ledgends of his family was that his long dead ancestor had helped one of these mighty creatures and saved them while it was attacked. Then he turned and saw the were-wolf.

He yelled RETREAT ACROSS THE RIVER ALL UNDER MY COMMAND!!

He had kept his eyes on the creature, and behind it he saw orcs flying through the air as the ent smashed into the Mordorian scum.

He brought his blade up. he knew he was fast, and others had killed were-wolves, or they would all still be stalking the world. Yet this one was larger than in the stories, and it had an intelligent gleam in it's eye. With a jolt he realised it was day, yet the thing still had wolf form. This was not right.

The thing sprang forwards, and its claws were a blur of speed. Only the instincts he had had drilled into him by the fencing masters of Dol Amroth saved him. His blade came down, and the claw of the were wolf hit it. The blade cleaved the the claw of the thing to the bone, yet it grinned and feinted high then swung its legs to catch him off guard. Again only his instincts saved him. But the claws still scratched across his armour, yet the blow was not fatal, and it would have disembowlled him had he not arched his spine.

He noticed the wounds it had received were knitting back together.The werewolf noticed his attention focused on the claw, and it sprang again at the split second chance. It hit Imrahil who got his blade in the way, yet this time with not enough force. The young Prince was bowled backwards off his feet, the blade gone from his hand.


CAMP: Darahil and his 20 man elite bodyguard were canoeing back across the river, heedless of the fact that they were wearing the Swan KNight helms. Let the enemy know they were here he had decided. When the 4,800 men had come back earlietr he had decided to come to help Imrahil in case the enemy closed with his small force. Yet when he touched the bank he scarcely believed his eyes. There was Imrahil standing against the largest wolf he had ever seen. Yet it walked on it's hind legs.

He and his men drew the fine Numenorean blades and kissed them, they spread out either side of Darahil, and formed a wedge. Some held their two-handed swords, others their long swrds and shield.

Dol Amroth!!!

Their cry rang out and they charged into the flank of the orcs.

Eastern Osgiliath, Gondor
Everything was happenning in a blur. The main body of rangers were now safe in Osgiliath, and Faramir's 75 ranger rearguard was pouring arrows into the orc mob. Morwen went down, and Faramir cried out to her, but they were separated by the melee. Faramir ordered a ranger to tend to her wounds, and then concentrated back on the battle.

The melee had moved together, and the once separated forces of Dol Amroth and Gondor were almost side by side, separated by a thin sliver of the orcish tide. Faramir's 25 man guard, the elite of the elite of Gondor, were cleaving down foes three at a time. These were the Guards of the Fountain Court, sworn to protect the line of stewards, wearing thousands of years old mithril armor and numenorean swords from the time of Elros, founder of Numenor. Their silver and black armor shone in the light of dawn, cleaving through the vile foes with ease. The other rangers continued firing, but Faramir, as he sliced through a last orc, found himself tumbled in a strange circle in the fighting. Ahead of him, Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth faced off against a great Werewolf of the elder times, and an ent was smashing through the orcish lines. Faramir cired out, "For GONDOR!" and charged the wolf, his numenorean blade flashing up in a double feint, and then cleaving down, down on the werewolf's arm...

The Guards of the Fountain Court were close behind, and soon they had hewn their way through the orcs, meeting up with the Knights of Dol Amroth, forming an unyielding barrier of rightiousness from the mighty soldiers of the two kingdoms, facing out against the foe.

Morwen fobbed the helpers away, she courageously pulled out the arrow, she got up and staggered on fighting.

Haldirs men where ruuning, turning, firing, and then running again, anything that would help them get away. They reached the boats and began to row across, those who where not rowing exchanging shots with the enermy.

Another two thousand orcs were sent to reinforce the search party, the catapults were moved in position and fired pots of tar at the ent.

The werewolf charged at Imrahil, moving with blinding speed yet the human was able to block the blow. The sword cut of the claws on the right paw. The werewolf, whom his master called Karcharothen son Karcharoth, swung its legs, hoping to catch the prince off guard. But again luck favoured the human and he escaped unscatched. Imrahil's jaw suddenly dropped and his eyes widened at the sight of the werewolf's wounds healing. Karcharothen used this moments confusion to his advantage and struck the foolish prince with all his might. Again the sword came to block the blow, but not with enough force this time and the blade spun away and landed on the ground ten metres away, and the prince fell. The werewolf crouched over him and prepared to strike the killing blow but suddenly Faramir charged at him. The blade shone in his hand and the werewolf recognized the danger. The numenoran blade came crashing down, but the werewolf's agility saved him and he leapt backwards.

The warg riders turned away from the battle and charged at the two royal humans, hoping to ride them down or at least protect the werewolf. Two hundred arms held two hundred spears and swords, four hundred eyes sighted the two humans and eight hundred paws sounded like thunder on the cobblestone streets and beach.

Eastern Osgiliath, Gondor
The Guards of the Fountain Court locked together their tower shields, bracing their pikes behind them and presenting a mighty wall of pikes against the charging wargs. The 75 rangers continued to fire into the wargs, firing as fast as they could, an arrow every two seconds.

Faramir circles around the warg, his long blade shining blue at the presence of fell creatures, his feet moving easily despite his armour. He kicked Imrahil's sword back to him, his eyes never leaving the enemy. Then, he was a blur, in hopefully past the beast's guard, a feint to the right, and then he dived for the wolf's right arm, slicing down with all his might. He could hear orcish catapults firing in the distance, but then Gondor's own trebuchets redirected from the orcs to meet the challenge, firing massive blocks of mortar over the battle. Yet still, the man and the beast fought on.

The werewolf sidestepped but the blade cut of a great deal of fur, although wounding the werewolf itself. It howled and barked at the human, showing its teeth though not making another attempt to strike.

In all confusion caused by the battle, one hunderd and fifty orcs tried to sneak across the river, carrying ladders and tar.

Eastern Osgiliath, Gondor
The Guards of the Fountain Court locked together their tower shields, bracing their pikes behind them and presenting a mighty wall of pikes against the charging wargs. The 75 rangers continued to fire into the wargs, firing as fast as they could, an arrow every two seconds.

Faramir circles around the warg, his long blade shining blue at the presence of fell creatures, his feet moving easily despite his armour. He kicked Imrahil's sword back to him, his eyes never leaving the enemy. Then, he was a blur, in hopefully past the beast's guard, a feint to the right, and then he dived for the wolf's right arm, slicing down with all his might. He could hear orcish catapults firing in the distance, but then Gondor's own trebuchets redirected from the orcs to meet the challenge, firing massive blocks of mortar over the battle. Yet still, the man and the beast fought on.

IC: Morwen stuffed her wound with material and carried on decapitating wargs on board her horse, she tried to see Faramir in the crowd

Imrahil was grateful to Faramir. The skilful Gondorian had saved his life. He bent and picked up the sword again.

He could see Darahil and his bodyguard cleave there way through the orcs, they were engulfed by the flood of reinforcements from the Mordorian camp. He was anxious for a moment, then saw the Dol Amroth standard once again planted in the groud, with the 21 men in a circle about it, there blades rising and falling, killing an orc or warg with just a few strokes.

Imrahil rolled to the side, and leapt up of the ground. He skewred the orc whose scimitar had crashed into the ground beside his head, and realised he was in a cold sweat. Advancing back towards the were-wolf. He readied himself to fight the evil monster again.

Before he reached the foul thing, he knew a way to protect Farair and save his life, as Faramir had saved him. Pelting towards him were warg riders.... a lot of warg riders. He once again called his battle cry and moved to meet the furry tide bearing down on him, his sword ready, his shield shining in the sun.

OOC:Realative, sorry for RPing your were-wolf earlier in the fight against Imrahil

OOC: Don't worry, as long as you're within the realms of reason and don't kill it or something I don't really mind.

IC:
The flood of warg riders avoided Faramir and the werewolf, out of fear of hurting the werewolf and be punished by their leaders. But they did no such thing when they noticed Imrahil. But Grumbulz, second in command of the orchish horde, shouted to them to let him be for Grumbulz, and only Grumbulz, would be the one to give the head of Imrahil to Sauron. So he stepped forward, clad in a full plate mail that never before had been seen on any servant of Melkor, wielding a long straight sword of western design and a large round shield adorned with spikes and skull. He stepped up unto Imrahil and said in the Black Speech:
''Face me, prince of dol Amroth. I am Grumbulz, most trusted servant of Sauron. On this day the fate of the world shall be decided, let our duel be a replica of our nations' long struggle, yet on a much smaller scale. Woe the one that first yeilds and woe the one that might interrupt our struggle. Fight now, prince, with all honour one such as you might conjure.''

Thrakthun felt the tar stick to his body.For their size and mass,Ents were surprisingly agile,more so than even an Olog-Hai troll.He did not worry,for such was the composition of the bark that fire did him little damage,thick and moist ironwood,iron absorbed over the ages threaded into his bark,for an Ironwood Ent he was,and hardy they were against flame,as they had meant to be,able to match a might Balrog and fight it to a draw.

And Thrakthun was the last and but the least mighty of them,many Ents having either gone dormant or left to join Yavanna the Valar in the Undying Lands.The last Ironwood Ent and second only to Treebeard in age and wisdom among all living things,he was a force to be reckoned with.

With a final sweep of his arms,he bulldozed through the line and rushed into the embrace of the werewolf,which turned to face him,howling its beastial fury,a maw filled with fangs.Karcharothen was of the ilk of Karcharoth,and none would deny him his fill of human blood.Yet this foolish Ent had come to deny him his rightful meal.With a leap,he leapt upon the Ent and slashed at him,claws scraping away bark in thin layers,not enough to be even felt by Thrakthun.

With a fury borne of denial,the Karcharothen met Thrakthun in a battle that was very much one-sided,yet reminiscent of the battles of Elder Days,and for a moment,both men and orc stood distracted by the battle of the two,Greater Werewolf against Ent,steady strength of the forest against the brutality of the werewolf.

With a mighty blow that would have shattered a trolls backbone,Thrakthun sent the werewolf flying,only for it to recover from among the crumbled ruins and leap upon him again.Countless times he battered it with blows that would have shattered even the mithril gates of Moria's dungeons in the glory days of the Dwarves,and again it recovered to engage him in one sided battle,battered and bruised yet recovering,only to be cast aside again.

He would end the fight soon,if only he could grasp the agile werewolf and crush him.

.

Haldir saw the small force of Orcs cross the river in the fighting, carrying ladders and tar. He leapt off the boat, leading his men through the silent city buildings, away from the battlefeilds, a few men called him craven but he ignored them, he had to concentrate on the greater good-they would see eventually.

He had but 50 elves with him, the others where still crossing the river, but he charged at the Orcs, crying his warcry, "The Lady! The Lady of the Wood," He fired off one, two arrows and then threw his bow aside, drawing his long sword and diving into the Orcs who slashed back at him.

He felt the impact as his mens arrows hit home and then saw, out of the corner of his eye, there golden armoured forms hacking adn slashing around him.

Imrahil looked at the disgusting orc in front of him. He brought his blade up in the salute, then snarled
'If I can have any honour, it will be more than you will have in your body'
The head snarled in anger, and the Prince was in and his blade hacking at the orc.

Darahil and his bodyguard smashed into the wrgs that surrounded the single combat. The Pr4ince knew he must kep out of the fight, but had no qualms about killing wargs and their riders, and started the grim business.

Bump!