Fangorn Forest

*Isn't Faradin right in the Entmoot with the others?*

Marondras smiled. "A Blasting Delve, eh? Perfect, indeed perfect. About time . . ." He smoothed his hands over the constructions plans, gently.

"So what is it?"

"There is only one in Middle Earth at this time. And it'll take a long time to make another. But with the massive production capacity of this mountain, it will probably be quicker. This'll take a lot of power. An enormous amount. But it can be done."

"But what is it?" Arvec asked impatiently.

"You can build things using them. Great things, powerful things. I've already prepared for this moment, and have altered the foundations of the mountain."

"This mountain?" Arvec asked in horror.

"No, no, don't be an idiot. I wouldn't destroy the master's castle, that would be stupid."

"I, didn't mean, uh . . ."

"Anyway, I'll get started immediately. Just get me two tons of the blasting powder that you had bought from Isengard, and . . ."

"Two tons!"

"Amazing that an elf with ears like that could be deaf."

"But two tons is almost all that we have!"

"Oh, you have more? Than get the rest of it as well. I'll get started at once. I'll need two hundred of your workers, and . . ."

"What!" Arvec stood up, his face flushed with anger and amazement.

Marondras looked up at Arvec, raising an eyebrow, a look of annoyance on his face. "I intend to get this job done. It's more important than any of your trivial weapon construction."

"Very well, if your going to do this than I'm going to take personal charge of the construction."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible. Your unimportant to the project, only your resources are."

"But Nardran left the responsibility to me!"

"He made a mistake. I'm the only one who is indispensible to the project, and you will simply be a nuisance. That will be all, you're dimissed."

Arvec nearly burst with rage.

*Hey, guys. I'm right here in the Entmoot with you. I told everyone that there were orcs in the forest and then asked for Sintia's aid.

"I know where Unvar and his men were headed. There is a fortress near the mountains. Unvar was planning to attack it when I left him. Perhaps we should explore this place ourselves. But not an attack. I was thinking of sneaking in to learn what we may."


P.S. Let me carry this off Leif and I may be able to rescue Slyrthe for you.

"I think," Mal said dryly, "We may have found what we have to do. Or one thing, at the least."

With his remaining hand, he pushed himself off of the ground, and rose to his feet, if a bit shakily.

"I, for one, wonder at what this castle is, and why Unvar has turned his forces against it. I am well enough, I think, to go a-searching for some answers. If any of you wish to join me?" And as he trailed off, his eyes turned to one in particular - Syntia. Himself, and Saruman, and her, and whatever force Unvar was now facing against... surely, so many beings of power so close together was most certainly not chance...

The master had though about this for quite a while. After looking through the palantir, he'd realized where the conversation was headed. He knew all he needed to know.

"General Fildrog, get me thirty of your best fighters and assemble at the north wall."

"At the north wall? With all due respect, there are no enemies over there and it'll weaken our outer defense so much that . . . AH!"

The balrog's whip lashed out, cutting his throat open. The creature turned it's ferocious gaze on a different general.

"Gandarx, will you give the order?"

"Yes my lord." The general bowed his head and hurried from the room.

Soon the force was assembled, and the master was with them. The warriors trembled in fear at the sight of their master. But that was as it should be. Fear was one of the balrog's greatest weapons.

The balrog seized the edge of the wall and leapt over onto the soil. His men followed suit, climbing down quickly and nervously. Then, the balrog lead his men off and away, disappearing into the night.

*oops! Sorry, must have missed that. Now I feel sheepish.
It seems our Balrog has the temperment of Vader. *

"What advantages and disadvantages are there to going as one group or in two?" Dania said thoughtfully. Already, plans were starting to take substance in her mind.

"Split our forces? That could be an idea, save we are so few already. Still, I, myself, would be much more suited to entering the fortress through... overlooked... entrances, and scouting. While some, such as out ranger friend here," and a nod to Faradin, "but if others would not be suted for such a task, they could meet up with the corsair lord, and learn what they may from him..."
With this, Mal finishes his short speech, looking winded and pale from simply talking.

*Guys, how about if in the next one or two posts this conversation is wrapped up. Not to be pushy, but this is getting a bit long winded, and overall not much new stuff is circulating in it. I think that Mathron's last post is a pretty good way to wrap the thing up and get back into the action.*

*hmmm, it appears my character has died out. Well, thats what I get for not being here for a while. Sorry everyone for sorta of disappearing, things have been hectic. Maybe I will enter a new char in, although doubtful, cuz I am really lost in this rpg. *

*I don't know about died out, more like, wandered away. If you want to enter in a new character, go ahead. Maybe you should use Sauganast again, magical characters are being drawn to Fangorn like bees to honey anyway. Let's see, a lot's happened since you posted here last.

Everybody trooped off to Isengard because Unvar realized he was being tricked by Saruman. Saruman found out that they were there and attacked them. Malagar found his armband and used a shadow magic to slaughter Saruman's henchmen. Then he went onto the pinacle of Orthanc and lost both his armband and his arm to a evil skull head that attacked him there.

Dania and Narsh brought him to the Entmoot while Faradin joined Unvar.

An evil balrog of mine commands a fortress nearby Fangorn. He's trying to get his hands on the Book of Secrets.

Not telling what it does, that's a secret at present!

He tricked Slythre into betraying Unvar and giving him the palantir. Then he locked her away in the dungeon of his fortress.

Meanwhile, other characters of mine are building a Blasting Delve nearby a far away castle called Iron Heart. What that has to do with anything is also undiscovered.

Faradin joins Unvar's team, finds out about Slythre's treachery, leaves him, goes to Fangorn, fights some orcs and enters the Entmoot.

Now everybody is in the Entmoot but me.

Unvar reaches the fortress and attacks it, scoring a victory but not winning.

The balrog sneakes off with his best men to who knows where.

I hope you read this debriefing, it would seem a little stupid sitting here in the middle of story for no purpose.
Thanks for your attention, farewell!*

*Could someone else write the invasion of the fortress, I'm a little busy right now and probably won't be able to post anything substantial until late Sunday, or Monday evening. Thanks*

Dania handed Mal one of the leather flaskes from her bag, which after a sip cured some of his lightheadedness. While he steadied himself, she continued to speak.
"Well, I thing we have agreed. We will split into two groups, and meet once we are inside. The smaller the group, the less of a chance of being seen, regardless of their manpower. Narsh, Faradin and myself will be one group, and Syntia and Mal would make up the other, if there are no objections?" She looked from face to face, "if anyone has better teams already in mind, feel free."

"Sounds like a plan," said Mal, and the others gave agreement. "But we must go now, and quick - who knows what might be transpiring while we spend time in idle chatter?"

Soon, the groups were on the move, and followed Faradin much of the way toward where the fortress was. When they arrived, however, they split up.

Mal and Syntia headed to the north of the hastily built fortress, and easily found a way up and over the wall, slipping under the eyes of watchers in the darkness of the night. As they entered in through a window, Mal muttered, "I sense something dark and vile pervading this place, and I like it not."

"I sense it too - but I also feel that it is not here right now. We must be quick though, for if it would sense us here, it would surely return quickly," Syntia responded.

With no further words, Mal begin to creep down the hallways of the fortress, trying to find some explanations within.

Yes, there it is. Dania and Faradin leaned over the edge of a bank, they had passed three guard without much trouble, and now had the kitchen's gate in view. Narsh sat a few yards to the right, keeping an eye on the guards. The small door was not guarded itself, but there was a guard on the wall just above.
Pulling out her bow, Dania found her longest arrow, noched it, pulled back as far as he could, and let it fly. The guard's hand flew to his throat, silently he fell from the wall, landing just outside the kitchen door.
No one stirred, the other guards hadn't noticed. Giving the signal, Faradin led the group to the wall and through the door.

A hail of arrows flew over the wall, picking three defenders off the battlements. Then suddenly, off the hillside sprang two dozen of Unvar's best fighters, smashing into the pikeman barricade, and breaking it to pieces. Although everyone in the front row of the attack died almost instantly, their companions jumped over their bodies and cut the enemy warriors to pieces. The orcs and men screamed and fled in terror as the vicious Corsairs of Umbar came on, unstopable.



Faradin and Dania hurried into the room, shutting the door behind them and sliding the bolt into place. They quickly proceeded down the dark corridor and opened one of the two doors at the wall. Just then, they heard screams, shouts, and the clash of weapons from outside.

For a moment they thought they were discovered, but then they heard the battle cries of the corsairs and knew that as yet they were safe.

As they proceeded deeper into the structure, they began to wonder at the lack of foes or impediments.

"Surely they have better defenses then this," Dania said eventually.

"Perhaps they had greater losses than we thought in their first battle with the corsairs," Faradin suggested. "I saw the markings of the fight on our way in."

Just then, they went down a dark staircase and stopped short. Three orcs were directly in front of them.

Faradin's sword took two of them out in the first blow, and a quick slash from Dania's knife finished the other.

Ahead were a dozen barred and padlocked doors.

"I believe we've entered the dungeons," Dania whispered.

"All the better," was Faradin's response. "A uprising from inside the castle will certainly help in their defeat."

They began moving from door to door, but found no one in any of the cells. Then, they stopped. Finally a cell that had a prisoner. The figure was sagging in chains that held it up, unconscious.

Faradin dealt the door three sharp blows, bringing it crashing to the floor. Then, he stepped into the cell, Dania right behind him. He suddenly started in surprise. Although the person's clothes were in rags, and she was wounded and battered, she was recognizable.

"What is it?" Dania asked.

"This is Slythre, one of Unvar's top agents. But she betrayed him and joined the people of this fortress."

"Well what should we do with her? We can't just leave her here. She doesn't appear to be on their side anymore."

"But can we trust her? Unvar thought he could, but was wrong."

"We don't have to trust her, only set her free. An enemy of our enemies is a friend."

"Perhaps," he said, and got to work.

Mal and Syntia opened a door and ducked inside. A long hallway lay ahead. They quickly moved ahead, but as they neared the end of the hallway, came to a stop. Suddenly, the door in front of them opened and a figure stepped through, followed by a dozen other black armored figures.

Not a match for their two opponents, but still a threat.

"Who are you?" their leader asked through his helmet, raising his drawn sword.

"Enemies, and that is all you need to know," Mal said as he prepared to fight.

"Perhaps you are not entirely correct in that assumption," the figure responded. "If you fight those who rule this castle, than we are friends. We are defecting."

Mal was still suspicious. This could be just a trick to put them off their guard. "Why should I trust you?"

"Why shouldn't you?" the figure countered. "You two are within my power. At a command, you would be instantly killed."

"Perhaps it would be harder than you think," Syntia responded.

The figure hesitated. "Very well," he said from behind his closed visor. "It is proof you want. Here it is."

He raised the visor of his helmet, revealing his mutilated face. A hideous slash wound gaped across half of it, having smashed one of his eyes, broken his nose and ripped away part of his mouth.

"I once was an elf captain, but at the whim of my commander this was done to me. I will bare these wounds to the end of my days, and now live for nothing else but to have my revenge."

"It was an evil weapon that did this to you," Syntia said softly.

"A balrog's whip," the warrior responded with a furious fire flashing up briefly in his one eye. "I will never rest until I have dealt equal vengeance upon it's master."

Syntia slowly remove the hood of her elven cloak revealing her face to everyone present.

-A balrog...she said pensively, oblivious to everything happening around her, the battle, the treacherous soldier, Mal...

The stench of terror was present everywere and for the first time she truly understand from were it came and that understanding came with a great sadeness. The captain was no match for a balrog, nor were Dania and all the other. Mal was too weak to be of any help and the Istari were present for other task. Only she could pose a veritable treat for the balrog and to her knowledge no one ever defeat a balrog and survive the encounter.

Mal was livid the though of facing a balrog in his weakened state was too much for him. She let him know from her mind to his mind that he wouldn't have to face him at all.

-Mal, find the other and help them get out of here safely. I don't want them here when the master return home. don't worries for me i've seen worst. She turn to face the elf captain,lead me to the appartement of your master...i have much to learn and so do you.

Nardran stared at her through his eye for a long moment. Than he closed the visor to his helmet. "We have already been there, and the master is gone. His lair is in the heart of the castle, go there if you will. But you'll find no enemy there to fight. My advice to you is to leave him be. I've already seen one beautiful and brave woman stand up to him, and have witnessed her downfall. Do not make history repeat itself."

He looked at her for a moment longer. "Do as you wish, but at least consider my warning."

The master watched through the palantir as the intruding Maia and their allies entered his fortress. Whatever happened there was unimportant now. The victory was in sight. Now if he could only get past these rotten ents! Perhaps the best way was the most direct. It would mean announcing his presence all over the wood, and probably attract the attention of that meddler Syntia, but he was out of time.

The master rose to his full height and let out a great roar that resounded through the air, making the trees quake. Then, he leapt forward, blasting away branches, leaves and roots, burning three ents to blackness in the first few seconds. His men charged to keep up, flames burning into the trees and setting the forest alight. The direct attack was severe and stunning, forcing the trees to retreat in the path of the onslaught. But this only allowed the balrog to gain speed, and right now, speed was everything. He leapt into the Entmoot, burning and deadening the grass in all directions.



Syntia rose her head. She sensed the fight, and heard the ents crying out for assistance. Their fighting skills were far overmatched, and they were like matches trying to put out a raging furnace. Syntia closed her eyes and drew power into herself. Then, she disappeared, soaring out through the sky towards Fangorn with all of the speed she could muster.



The balrog's claws ripped into the soil as his troops struggled to keep the ents at bay. Quickly, he churned it out, throwing mud over the clearing.



Treebeard knew what was at stake and lunged forward, smashing two orcs out of the way with his mighty limbs. The balrog's men fell apart, dead or dying at the attack, but the balrog had found his goal. He reached into the hole and pulled out an iron bound chest. Then, clutching it in a claw, he lunged for the path he'd hacked for himself . . . only to be smashed backwards by a magical blast from Syntia. The chest went flying out of his hands and landed on the ground. Quickly raising a claw, he summoned flames to lick up and surround him, the chest and Syntia, cutting off the ents from interfering.

"So we meet," he snarled, red hot sulfur falling from his black lips as he looked at her through dark, red eyes.

"Sooner than I expected, but the timing is good."

"You shall regret having ever interfered. The book is mine!"

"What book? I've never known balrogs to be interested in literature."

The beast roared and swung his sword down, renting a deep gap in the soil where she had been an instant before. She through out both arms and white light boiled forth, blinding the balrog momentarily. The next blow caught him in the leg, and he stumbled. The next took him in the shoulder, and through him backwards. But he used that as momentum, hurtling around and slashing with his whip, catching her in a coil and throwing her out of the flaming ring and into the trees. But the balrog wasn't interested in a fight, or the destruction of his enemy. All he wanted was survival, and to escape with his treasure. Seizing the chest, he leapt into the branches, which instantly smashed against him with rending strength. He'd never faced the full, tearing power of the ents, and now he regretted having to go through the experience. But, he slashed out with his sword, cutting away the foremost branches. Then, he leapt through the hole left, and dodged into the forest, smashing whatever blocked his path and leaving a trail of blackened carnage in his wake.



As the balrog emerged from Fangorn, he noticed the palantir which he'd left behind during his attack. He thought for a moment, and then decided to leave it.

It wasn't that important anyway, and it would mean that the annoying corsair would get off of his trail, and that would mean one less enemy to fight. The future was uncertain, and although he had succeeded, he'd made more enemies than he needed in the doing.

As Mal felt the feeling of one spying upon him once again, he grew angry. Then, he realized what was going on, as Syntia did as well, and as she vanished he called out to the treacherous captain, "Whether you are friend or foe, I have no time to deal with you right now. If you are a foe of the Balrog, then either flee this place, or aid the corsairs against the orcs they face. Now then, I must find my friends."

With that, he quickly left the elf and his men behind, vanishing down the corridors of the fortress, and listening for any sound of the others. Soon, he heard noise, slight and nearly unnoticable, to any but him, from the floor beneath him. Going down the stairs, he found Narsh almost shoot him in the chest with an arrow, before realizing who he was.

"You should announce your presence more quickly," said the grim form, but Mal had no time for discussion.
He saw Dania and Faradin untying a figure from bonds, and called out, "We must be gone from this place. The forest is under assault! Quickly, follow me out!"
Saying tha, Mal turned and headed out to the nearest exit.

Automatically, Narsh picked up the still unconsious Sylthre, and followed after Faradin, who was right on Mal's heels. Dania took the rear, keeping a sharp eye, and ear, out for anyone nearby.
The doorway, their gateway to freedom, lay just ahead, the light from outside throwing back the tendrils of darkness around them. Dania whirled suddenly, and the gleam of an orcish weapon caught the sunlight behind them.
"Run!" She yelled, following quickly behind. There was no way to out run them, but the doorway was smaller than the passage, and easier to hold a defence.
Just out side the door, Narsh stopped and, handing Sylthre to Faradin, prepared to face the orcs emerging from the fortress alongside Dania.
Narsh pulled the great sword from his back, concentration glinting in his eyes. Dania's own dagger, Elven-made, long and strong, was clutched tight in her hand.
The first orc approced the door way, and felled quickly by a swipe of Narsh's sword. The second and third attempted to step over the body of the first, one flailing wildly with his axe as it did so. The other lunging with his sword, the tip managing to cut across Dania's cheek. The edge of the orcish axe caught Narsh on the shoulder, while he'd been busy dealing with the orc who'd cut Dania's face. Dania moved too quickly for the axe-wielding orc to see, stabbing the dagger into his lungs, and robbing him of breath.
There were five more orcs, still inside in doorway, and far enough back that they might make it to the others. Turning suddenly, they ran.