The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - Werewolf XLII: The meaning of life forever

Legate of Amon Lanc · 01-19-2008, 02:01 PM

As the fourth day of the battles dawned, the audience has already filled the seats of the arena. Everyone was full of expectations, and when Nogrod of Nogrod shouted "We will not disappoint the audience!" a roar of excitement resounded in the arena.

However, the battle of the day did not quite meet the expectations. Soon it became apparent that the Mighty Rog, despite his bravery and significant heroic deeds in the past, hid himself somewhere in a dark corner. Or so it seemed. Nevertheless, the remaining two contestants soon accustomed themselves to the situation and spent most of the day in a long debate. And it was not always a debate just between the two of them.

"Well done, Valier! Well done, Menel!" Nogrod shouted at the warriors resting and healing their wounds in the back of the arena. "Naria and McCaber, one of you is a wolf!"
"Aganzir, what is it that you dislike about me?" Thinlómien gnarled. "What is it all of you distrust me?" Her orc-elf eyes were suddenly filled with tears. "No one trusts me! Oh Elbereth, Elbereth, why? My friends don't trust me! My friends don't like me anymore!"

"I say everyone should speak, speak, and speak!" roared Nogrod. "And it does not matter whether I win or lose, I want a good fight! So where is this cowardly Elf?"
"You mean ME?" Thinlómien said in a threatening voice, drawing up an Orc knife. Then she changed her mind and took her great bow instead.
"Not you," said Nogrod. "I mean the one who is not here!" He turned and shouted over the whole arena. "Hey you! Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me!"
"It won't help if he nods when you don't see him, silly Dwarf," said Thinlómien. Nogrod ignored her and kept addressing The Mighty Rog who was nowhere to be seen. After speaking up his mind about all sorts of things The Might did on the first day, he shouted once again, in hope to bring in the missing contester: "Hey you! Can you hear me?"

No answer came. Both the contesters and all the audience were silent, mostly because a large part of the audience fell asleep during Nogrod's monologue. Suddenly, a gentle buzzing sound went through the arena.
"What's this?" Nogrod asked, raising his hammer. "What's that sound? Who makes that?"
"It's my mind," said Thinlómien and the buzzing sound stopped. The expression of the Orc-Elf's face changed. She grinned at Nogrod with her mouth full of sharp teeth. "And why is that of your concern anyway? You are unnecessarily jumpy, I noticed that, while if I remember correctly, you haven't been jumpy for ages!"

Nogrod shrugged. "I can be jumpy whenever I wish. It is true that since First Age, I indeed haven't been jumpy at all. But look," he said and started jumping around. Thinlómien observed him critically. "That's quite aggressive," she said. "Or are you just having a bad day? Or are you testing my reactions? What is this supposed to be?"
"What, you don't like my jumping?" Nogrod stopped and clutched his hammer.
"No, not at all," Thinlómien said, not threatened in the slightest. "Obviously you don't even know how to jump. Look at me. This is the way it should be done!"

With these words, the Orc-Elf jumped at Nogrod with her old, rusty sword drawn. But Nogrod of Nogrod was not the one to be caught off his guard. He dodged the first strike and immediately thrusted out his arm to hit Thinlómien on her unprotected left side. But even before he could move to the strike, he realised Thinlómien is doing the same. With his superior warrior reflexes, he turned to attack Thinlómien by a bottom strike, only to find his opponent doing the same. They continued dueling for a long time; unfortunately, all the audience was sleeping by that time and could not observe the battle.

"This is of no use," Nogrod said after some time, stopping. "You are mirroring everything I do."
"You as well," Thinlómien said, breathing heavily. "It is obvious neither of us can win."

A merry voice coming from the gate interrupted them. "Hello folks!" Both the contesters turned to see The Might escorted by several Ar-Pharazon's praetorians being led into the arena. "Sorry I wasn't around, I, uh, went out with some friends," he turned and waved to the balcony. Ar-Pharazon, Sauron and Tar-Míriel were standing there, waving back at him. The Queen smiled and then they all turned and left the balcony. Nogrod and Thinlómien exchanged surprised looks.

"They heard about my heroic deeds and wanted to meet me so that I can recount them," the Mighty Rog explained. "They are nice folks. The King, the Queen, even that Sauron fella. We had a nice chat..."

Nogrod and Thinlómien looked at each other once again. Their expressions were now frozen, but the flame of jealousy was to be seen in their eyes. How comes, they both thought, that this warrior earned the King's favour so easily? This was certainly not fair.

And they are not going to leave it at that.

"Hey, you," Nogrod shouted at the Mighty Rog. "Can you hear me?"

As the Mighty Rog turned, Thinlómien stepped closer to him with her sword raised high. "Hey you," she repeated Nogrod's words, "can you feel me?" And at the moment, she hit the warrior flat with the sword. Knocked down, the Mighty Rog fell to the ground.

"That was easy," Thinlómien said with an Orcish smile.
"No one is watching," Nogrod said, overlooking the sleeping tribunes. "But given the popularity he earned, someone may have wanted us to spare him. Let's hide him somewhere, quick."
"Let's dig a hole and bury him," Thinlómien proposed.
"Good idea," nodded Nogrod. "Let's do it!" And they both started digging. But suddenly, one of the spectators awoke, and it took him only a while to realise what is going on. He overlooked the sleeping tribunes.

"Hey you, don't let them to bury the Might!" he shouted with hope to awake the audience. The tribunes stirred. The two digging contestants were alarmed. "He gave in without a fight," Thinlómien cried apologetically, but no one listened to her. The onlookers all rose in protest to the treatment of the famous Hammer of Gondolin. The royal guards marched into the arena in order to maintain order and they dragged the Mighty Rog's unconscious body out of the place.

"Today's contest is over!" Ugh-Friedrich's voice resounded above the heads of the crowd and the contestants. "Nogrod and Thinlómien continue in the contest. Now, greet the three new warriors...!"

-------~~

The Mighty Rog did not stay on Númenor. After being carried out of the arena, he found himself a boat and left the island for good. The strike to his head did him some good at least: he rethought all he heard from the King and Sauron, and decided that if he is to sail West, he'd prefer to do that on his own.

-------~~

Around:
Brinniel
THE Ka
satansaloser2005
Aganzir
McCaber
Nogrod
Thinlómien
Valier
Groin Redbeard
Meneltarmacil
Kath
Gil-Galad
Naria
Azaelia of Willowbottom
Isabellkya
Rikae
A Little Green
Ugh-Friedrich (host)

Gone:
Legate of Amon Lanc - lynched on Day0.1 - teleported away
Roa_Aoife - lynched on Day0.2 - joined the dance
Shastanis Althereduin - lynched on Day0.3
The Might - lynched on Day0.4 - escorted away and sailed away

---------~~

Day0.4 ended, Day0.5 began

sally, Kath and Gil-Galad may post. Others keep out.

01-19-2008, 02:01 PM	#212
Legate of Amon Lanc A Voice That Gainsayeth Join Date: Nov 2006 Location: In that far land beyond the Sea Posts: 7,431	As the fourth day of the battles dawned, the audience has already filled the seats of the arena. Everyone was full of expectations, and when Nogrod of Nogrod shouted "We will not disappoint the audience!" a roar of excitement resounded in the arena. However, the battle of the day did not quite meet the expectations. Soon it became apparent that the Mighty Rog, despite his bravery and significant heroic deeds in the past, hid himself somewhere in a dark corner. Or so it seemed. Nevertheless, the remaining two contestants soon accustomed themselves to the situation and spent most of the day in a long debate. And it was not always a debate just between the two of them. "Well done, Valier! Well done, Menel!" Nogrod shouted at the warriors resting and healing their wounds in the back of the arena. "Naria and McCaber, one of you is a wolf!" "Aganzir, what is it that you dislike about me?" Thinlómien gnarled. "What is it all of you distrust me?" Her orc-elf eyes were suddenly filled with tears. "No one trusts me! Oh Elbereth, Elbereth, why? My friends don't trust me! My friends don't like me anymore!" "I say everyone should speak, speak, and speak!" roared Nogrod. "And it does not matter whether I win or lose, I want a good fight! So where is this cowardly Elf?" "You mean ME?" Thinlómien said in a threatening voice, drawing up an Orc knife. Then she changed her mind and took her great bow instead. "Not you," said Nogrod. "I mean the one who is not here!" He turned and shouted over the whole arena. "Hey you! Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me!" "It won't help if he nods when you don't see him, silly Dwarf," said Thinlómien. Nogrod ignored her and kept addressing The Mighty Rog who was nowhere to be seen. After speaking up his mind about all sorts of things The Might did on the first day, he shouted once again, in hope to bring in the missing contester: "Hey you! Can you hear me?" No answer came. Both the contesters and all the audience were silent, mostly because a large part of the audience fell asleep during Nogrod's monologue. Suddenly, a gentle buzzing sound went through the arena. "What's this?" Nogrod asked, raising his hammer. "What's that sound? Who makes that?" "It's my mind," said Thinlómien and the buzzing sound stopped. The expression of the Orc-Elf's face changed. She grinned at Nogrod with her mouth full of sharp teeth. "And why is that of your concern anyway? You are unnecessarily jumpy, I noticed that, while if I remember correctly, you haven't been jumpy for ages!" Nogrod shrugged. "I can be jumpy whenever I wish. It is true that since First Age, I indeed haven't been jumpy at all. But look," he said and started jumping around. Thinlómien observed him critically. "That's quite aggressive," she said. "Or are you just having a bad day? Or are you testing my reactions? What is this supposed to be?" "What, you don't like my jumping?" Nogrod stopped and clutched his hammer. "No, not at all," Thinlómien said, not threatened in the slightest. "Obviously you don't even know how to jump. Look at me. This is the way it should be done!" With these words, the Orc-Elf jumped at Nogrod with her old, rusty sword drawn. But Nogrod of Nogrod was not the one to be caught off his guard. He dodged the first strike and immediately thrusted out his arm to hit Thinlómien on her unprotected left side. But even before he could move to the strike, he realised Thinlómien is doing the same. With his superior warrior reflexes, he turned to attack Thinlómien by a bottom strike, only to find his opponent doing the same. They continued dueling for a long time; unfortunately, all the audience was sleeping by that time and could not observe the battle. "This is of no use," Nogrod said after some time, stopping. "You are mirroring everything I do." "You as well," Thinlómien said, breathing heavily. "It is obvious neither of us can win." A merry voice coming from the gate interrupted them. "Hello folks!" Both the contesters turned to see The Might escorted by several Ar-Pharazon's praetorians being led into the arena. "Sorry I wasn't around, I, uh, went out with some friends," he turned and waved to the balcony. Ar-Pharazon, Sauron and Tar-Míriel were standing there, waving back at him. The Queen smiled and then they all turned and left the balcony. Nogrod and Thinlómien exchanged surprised looks. "They heard about my heroic deeds and wanted to meet me so that I can recount them," the Mighty Rog explained. "They are nice folks. The King, the Queen, even that Sauron fella. We had a nice chat..." Nogrod and Thinlómien looked at each other once again. Their expressions were now frozen, but the flame of jealousy was to be seen in their eyes. How comes, they both thought, that this warrior earned the King's favour so easily? This was certainly not fair. And they are not going to leave it at that. "Hey, you," Nogrod shouted at the Mighty Rog. "Can you hear me?" As the Mighty Rog turned, Thinlómien stepped closer to him with her sword raised high. "Hey you," she repeated Nogrod's words, "can you feel me?" And at the moment, she hit the warrior flat with the sword. Knocked down, the Mighty Rog fell to the ground. "That was easy," Thinlómien said with an Orcish smile. "No one is watching," Nogrod said, overlooking the sleeping tribunes. "But given the popularity he earned, someone may have wanted us to spare him. Let's hide him somewhere, quick." "Let's dig a hole and bury him," Thinlómien proposed. "Good idea," nodded Nogrod. "Let's do it!" And they both started digging. But suddenly, one of the spectators awoke, and it took him only a while to realise what is going on. He overlooked the sleeping tribunes. "Hey you, don't let them to bury the Might!" he shouted with hope to awake the audience. The tribunes stirred. The two digging contestants were alarmed. "He gave in without a fight," Thinlómien cried apologetically, but no one listened to her. The onlookers all rose in protest to the treatment of the famous Hammer of Gondolin. The royal guards marched into the arena in order to maintain order and they dragged the Mighty Rog's unconscious body out of the place. "Today's contest is over!" Ugh-Friedrich's voice resounded above the heads of the crowd and the contestants. "Nogrod and Thinlómien continue in the contest. Now, greet the three new warriors...!" -------~~ The Mighty Rog did not stay on Númenor. After being carried out of the arena, he found himself a boat and left the island for good. The strike to his head did him some good at least: he rethought all he heard from the King and Sauron, and decided that if he is to sail West, he'd prefer to do that on his own. -------~~ Around: Brinniel THE Ka satansaloser2005 Aganzir McCaber Nogrod Thinlómien Valier Groin Redbeard Meneltarmacil Kath Gil-Galad Naria Azaelia of Willowbottom Isabellkya Rikae A Little Green Ugh-Friedrich (host) Gone: Legate of Amon Lanc - lynched on Day0.1 - teleported away Roa_Aoife - lynched on Day0.2 - joined the dance Shastanis Althereduin - lynched on Day0.3 The Might - lynched on Day0.4 - escorted away and sailed away ---------~~ Day0.4 ended, Day0.5 began sally, Kath and Gil-Galad may post. Others keep out. __________________ "Should the story say 'he ate bread,' the dramatic producer can only show 'a piece of bread' according to his taste or fancy, but the hearer of the story will think of bread in general and picture it in some form of his own." -On Fairy-Stories Last edited by Legate of Amon Lanc; 01-19-2008 at 02:42 PM.