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Old 04-10-2009, 12:44 PM   #148
Groin Redbeard
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
 
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Join Date: Nov 2007
Location: Facing the world's troubles with Christ's hope!
Posts: 1,735
Groin Redbeard is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.Groin Redbeard is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.
From the quill of Loremaster Drók

It was thus at the twenty second hour that Ori returned at the head of fifteen stout Dwarf warriors burdened with litters overflowing with the magnificence of Khazad-dűm. The array of armor and weapons of which Oin had discovered in the Third Deep was brought forth from into the hall and distributed. O, to see the array of craft that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention!

Old weapons, wielded by the Dwarves five years ago with their Lord, Balin, were forgotten for this new weaponry was crafted back when the renowned forges of the Dwarves was at their height. The weapons of the gifted smith, Narvi, and craftsmen, Doric, were here. The axes were rimmed with jewels and helms were crafted of silver. Leggings, much like the kind of the Iron Hills, were fitted to their legs, but these were of a lighter substance and no arrow or soft thrusting sword could penetrate the small links of chains. The most skilled of the smiths marveled at the metal breast plates bearing the emblems of Durin the Deathless, for they were of the most intricate detail.

However, no matter how delighted the Dwarves were at the sight of such wonders, they were still grim of heart. They did not forget the slaying of the Lord Balin and the encroachment of the Orcs upon their borders. Jealously would they defend their homes against the invader!

Little did they know, however, of Lord Trór’s predicament. For it was Trór and Frar who, unbeknownst to them, had passed Oin in the blinding snow and thus failed in their first reason for leaving the shelter of the mountains. Their path had been dangerously treacherous so far, but now a new enemy crouched for employment: Orcs were close at hand. Their keen sense of smell had tracked the scout Oin to the fords of Kheled Zaram, where they lost him in freshly falling snow.

The historical records are unclear as to what happened next, but it is of my opinion that the Orcs, frustrated and possibly scared of the consequences of failing, pushed onward until unhappy fate put them onto the larger scent of Trór and his warriors.

Thus with rough and all unable quill, I, Drók, shall recant how the warlike Trór, with his friends, assume the greatest struggle of the time. Can these pages hold the vast dale of Azulbizar; or, could you cram within these leather bindings the very armies that did ascend to the fight at Khazad-dűm? But I must ask for your pardon. Instead let us bring to this great account your imaginary forces; for it is you who must now deck the characters of history, turning the accomplishments of many years into an hour glass. Permit me to call us to this history. Your humble patience I pray and may it please you, gentle reader, to hear of the great stirring of the Dwarves and of the Second Battle of Azulbizar.
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