Thread: ATM II RPG
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Old 04-05-2007, 02:00 AM   #315
Hookbill the Goomba
Alive without breath
 
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Join Date: Jan 2003
Location: On A Cold Wind To Valhalla
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Hookbill the Goomba is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Hookbill the Goomba is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Hookbill the Goomba is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Hookbill the Goomba is lost in the dark paths of Moria.
The wind stirred about the shelf as Alatar the Brown stood as menacingly as he could before the group of odd individuals. Alli picked up a sword that was lying on the floor as a writer's convenience. Smilog drew his axe and Tollin his Morning star. Alatar raised his staff and laughed.

"Dost thou think that mortal blade canst harm me?" he cried, "thou fool! Thou FOOL! Do you not know death when you see it?" The earth trembled slightly as Alatar approached them. His brown robes began to whirl around as his wizardry began to take shape and his eyes blazed like a fire. Smilog lapped forward and swung his axe, but the Wizard moved his staff slightly and the dwarf was sent back down to the ground with a thud.

Alli held her sword up and said, "Before you kill us," she coughed, "I just need to know one thing. Why are you doing all this? Why Mordor?"

"It is coming!" replied the Wizard, "the battle."

"Yes," said Aime, "we can see that. There is that big army of yours over there."

"No," laughed Alatar, "the battle. The Dagor Dagroth. The end of the age. It is coming. Did you not hear the words of the seer?

'When the grey Wizard sheds his cloak
And the mountain is moved by dwarven folk
When the Black land is left abandoned
then the door of night will be opened.
War is begun by two powerful Mage
And thus will fall, the end of the age!'"


"Yes," coughed Aime, "but those are the words of Mal beer eth, the false seer. The only visions he had were from getting blind drunk."

"His methods were unusual," admitted Alatar, "but you cannot deny that some of it has come true. The wizard has shed his cloak... on many occasions. The dwarves have moved the mountain. War is begun by two powerful mage. Can you not see it is all coming true. The Dagroth is coming. We'd just like to be on the winning side."

"You're a loony," pointed out Smilog, "and your friend agrees does he?"

"Well..." Alatar thought for a moment, "why not? I think he does." The brown Wizard raised both his hands and grinned. " But now," he said, shaking his head, "Here we all end!"

"You first, old chap!" came a familiar voice, as a gold blade passed through Alatar's leg. The Wizard shrieked and fell down to his knees. The Barrow Wight crawled across the shelf to the other side, leaving a trail of blood as he went. Smilog stood up and kicked the Wizard in the face.

Alatar laughed, deeply and horribly. His face beamed brown light and his arms grasped his staff. The Wizard raised himself up and pointed his staff towards The Barrow Wight, saying, "You won't survive this time!" But at that moment, the sound of trumpets resounded around the grave yard. They were not the Wizards war horns. These were Gondorian horns.

The Wizard leaped off the shelf and ran as fast as he could back towards his army. Alli peered out in the direction the horn had come from and there she saw a group of nine riders, all dressed in purple with hoods over their faces. Their horses were jet purple with what she swore were yellow spots.

"What are they?" asked Smilog

"The farsegul," replied Alli,

"Gosh," said The Barrow Wight.
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