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Thread: No Tears For the Dead FF

  1. #1

    Default No Tears For the Dead FF

    I have been playing a sub-mod called the second age, This is the story of Arnor if the last alliance had not been forged.

    Chapter 1: The First of Many Betrayals

    Isildur stood with his swordsmen at the gates of fornost and saw the slaughter that stood before them, twelve thousand orcs fallen and nearly one thousand humans dead. Isildur had won the day but at a high price. Fornost was destroyed, his father Elendil was crushed by a troll's club. These trolls were a new devilry of Sauron the betrayer. Twelve feet tall covered in muscle and a thick hide, with the strength of 30 men. These beasts were tough to beat but for now at least they were few in number. Isildur was nearing 130 years old and yet he looked like a mere teenager to the average human. Even with his diminished blood he and his kin could live to be over 400 years old. His Father had been 300 when he died at Fornost. With the death of his father, Isildur now Was high King of Arnor and of Gondor to the South East.

    Sauron had taken mirkwood and the misty mountains which were now filled with orcs of mordor. Rhovanian was destroyed fifty years prior and Arnor now governed that land. The dwarves still hold the halls of Dain, and of their new palace at khazad-dum. The orcs of the misty mountains were replaced by the orcs of mordor. The final war is coming. The day when Humanity would destroy Sauron and take its place as the dominant race of middle earth. The high elves still remained in the grey havens and were protected by the ally that surrounded them, Arnor. Soon the elves would all leave middle earth and Humans would take up the lands that the elves left behind.

    Chapter 2: The Dream
    In a better world the elves would have tried to help destroy Sauron and save middle earth, but they were too cowardly, they hid behind their ally and slowly left middle earth to its fate. Arnor was alone, fighting a war which would consume middle earth. If arnor could unite the strength of the remaining peoples of middle earth. If it could rally the cause of freedom and hope, then they would be victorious and Sauron would be slain, but it could not. Isildur knew that arnor stood alone against the tide. He would die defending it, the last bastion of good in a world controlled by evil. Arnor was strong but orcs poured from mordor like the wave that destroyed numenor to the west.

    Isildur saw a land where green grass flowed into mountains, and the air was clear. Then like a crashing, thundering storm a fire burned across the beautiful valley and all was turned to black and grey. Isildur awoke, screaming for his sword and armor. He assembled his army. He knew what the dream meant. He rode quickly to the lands of the high elves and went to their king Hadrion son of the great king Gildron who died in a battle with the goblins. He shouted and in his passionate rage he yelled "You would leave us to die so that you could slip away! You would run when we need you the most! If we unite we will be victorious but you run! Join us! Join us and together we will bring a new future brighter than the stars at night! more promising then spring after winter! Join us and free this world of the greatest evil since Melkor which we defeated together long ago!"

    But the coward refused, and in his rage Isildur cut down the fool and yelled to the elves "Stand with us and restore your honor", it started as a whisper then grew to a yell than finally it elevated into a Battle cry in all corners of the lands of the elves the cry was heard, a cry for war, a cry for battle! The elves were going to war. They would restore the honor of their' people and destroy the usurper Sauron who tainted all lands that he touched.

    The cry spread across Arnor "Gather Arms, We March to Mordor!". Every man and woman of arnor did so. A force of over one hundred thousand Arnorian's marched. They would destroy mordor or they would all perish in the greatest battle since the fall of morgoth. Idildur led the army. A smile on his face. He could see the future, bright and undying.

    Chapter 3: The Fall
    Even with all their strength gathered mordor still outnumbered them 8 to 1. Millions of orcs and goblins and trolls poured from mordor. The men of Arnor cut a bloody swathe to the gates of mordor. There they camped and on the sunrise of the next day the horn of the elves was heard. The elves were magnificent 20,000 strong and clad in golden and bronze armor. The armies of mordor then showed their ugly faces. Orcs and Trolls, too many to count, hope was almost lost, the men were about to flee.

    But then Isildur screamed "STAY YOUR POSTS" "THESE ORCS ARE NOTHING COMPARED TO OUR COURAGE AND SKILL!" "STAND AND FIGHT!" The battle after was long and fierce, thousands of men and elves died, the alliance of elves and men pushed into the heart of mordor and there sauron halted them. He stood eight foot tall in black armor carrying a black mace. He bludgeoned through the line until isildur stepped up to him. Isildur fought like a man possessed, Sauron was so taken back by the Fierceness that he picked up an orc shield. Isildur then cut his leg clean off and then brought his sword down on his head. As sauron disentigrated away isildur noticed the ring on his finger. It was sauron's power ring which Isildur knew would have to be destroyed. But isildur heard it calling "take me and i will give you strength greater than any elf-king" Isildur felt his heart go icy cold.
    Last edited by wyvernslayer; August 21, 2009 at 07:53 AM.

  2. #2

    Default Re: No Tears For the Dead FF

    anyone got anything to say?

  3. #3
    Inarus's Avatar In Laziness We Trust
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    Default Re: No Tears For the Dead FF

    Bit short for the story of the last alliance. It begins well but it is too short to truly comment.




  4. #4

    Default Re: No Tears For the Dead FF

    In this story the last alliance was never formed, the elves have all been conquered or have given up hope before it could have been.
    Last edited by wyvernslayer; August 13, 2009 at 09:36 AM.

  5. #5

    Default Re: No Tears For the Dead FF

    I'm a story crit so I'll have a detailed look at your story tommorrow morning as I'm extremely tired tonight. Nice to see some more story writers though
    keep them coming
    Please click on this link and read my ongoing story:the Once Great Slave of Nurn

    Ancient Rome | Source Modification

  6. #6

    Default Re: No Tears For the Dead FF

    well anyone got anything to say?

  7. #7

    Default Re: No Tears For the Dead FF

    Coming back to this thread I am disgusted by my lack of writing ability at the time. So, I will attempt to re-write this scenario anew.

    Chapter 1: Atop the Battlements

    Isildur's blade dropped from his hands, clattering to the stone beneath him. His father, the great King Elendil, was dead. The troll that had slain him lay dying, bleeding from many large wounds. Although the troll could no longer move, its eyes fixed to the tall and fair figure of Isildur. Hatred burned through Isildur and in his rage, taking up his father's sword, the young Prince slowly pushed the sword into the right eye of Sauron's servant. Isildur withdrew the blade, the troll did not scream as he had hoped. It had died quietly, barely stirring from the pain. Isildur's pain was not unique. All throughout the fortress the muffled tears of widows, sons and fathers could be heard. Young children crept from their hideouts, seeking their families, their brothers, their fathers, few found what they sought.

    The weight of responsibility fell upon the young Prince like a flood. He closed the eyes of his father and beckoned to a nearby sergeant for a bearer. He did not stay to watch his father's departure, he could not. Isildur oversaw the destruction of the enemy's siege equipment. He had to keep his men busy, he had to keep them working, he had to keep himself working. Isildur eventually withdrew to the high tower with his advisers, but quickly dismissed them. The enemy's force had been annihilated, none had been spared to return. Isildur hoped that this would send a mortal shiver through his foe, but knew that this was an unlikely occurrence. Isildur watched from the tower as his people disposed of the orcs and trolls. He forced himself to reflect on the battle, despite the pain.

    They had known the army was coming. They had seen them for miles, the slow march of Sauron's horde was covered by his influence, a black cloud that snaked across the sky, following his beasts as they marched, safeguarding them from the light. The memory of the approach, the slow build toward mayhem tortured Isildur. He banished the memory, if he was to survive, it must die. It was then that the Wizard arrived.

    "My deepest sympathies, my prince. It is a grave day for us all." the Wizard said.

    Isildur turned to the man, who was not a man. Olórin wore a gray robe, dirty from miles of endless travel. His hat was a floppy affair, with a pointed end that hung limply to one side. If Isildur had not known the Wizard's nature, he would have appeared eccentric, but common. Isildur towered over the Wizard, but knew that the diminutive figure was purposefully deceiving.

    "Your masters sent you here to help us, you say. I wonder Wizard, when will you begin?"

    Olórin was not taken aback by Isildur's crass inquiry. Instead, he simply frowned and let his staff hang loosely in his hand.

    "I have tried, Isildur, I have tried to reason with the Lord Elrond, but he will not listen to reason." Olórin seemed immensely saddened by his own words.

    "He waits for you and yours to show that you are worth the lives of his people, that you are truly worthy." the words came slowly, carefully from the Wizard's mouth.

    Isildur's rage was unleashed in full at that moment.

    "HE HIDES IN HIS FOREST AS THE WORLD BURNS AROUND HIM! HE CALLS US UNWORTHY! WE WHO HAVE SACRIFICED SO MUCH FOR HIS COWARDICE!" Isildur screamed, certain that all of Fornost would hear his words as they echoed across the barren stone walls.

    Olórin let the anger flow around him, his frown deepening only slightly. Isildur's rage faltered but his resolve became iron.

    "We will march in a fortnight, Olórin, with or without the Elven cowards. If we fail, all will fall." Isildur said, venom flowing from his words, "I will not forget the Elf Lord's cowardice, Olórin, when I return, I will have him answer to me."

    Olórin's face contorted into an angry glare. "You would incite strife between your two races, Isildur? You would dispose of your grace so readily, cast it aside in such a time as this?" the Wizard's staff fell heavily upon the stone, shaking the tower and knocking Isildur from his feet, "HEED ME SON OF ELENDIL, THIS WAR IS LOST WITHOUT THE MARTIAL PROWESS OF THE ELVES! YOU MUST SHOW THAT MEN ARE WORTHY OF THIS GRACE, EVEN IF YOU ARE NOT."

    The Wizard turned from the young King and was gone.

    Guards rushed into the room, swords drawn, their faces grim, certain that they had lost another King. They found him sitting on the floor, a grim smile on his face.

    It was then that Isildur realized what must be done. It was then that he shouldered the weight of his station. The King rose to his feet, donning the crown his father had left him. Turning to the sergeant of his guard, he spoke, "Assemble the Army, Ivar, we march for Rivendell."

    The old sergeant strode quickly away, but Isildur was certain he saw a smile form as he turned. They would be taking the fight to the enemy and they would be doing so with Elves at their side.

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