Thread:James of the iron hills/@comment-27168578-20160130102927/@comment-26044791-20160201053453

Morgoth the first dark lord wrote: The orcs stop shooting and they leave. Sorthog moves forward, Deatrok in his hand. "I don't like calling me me monster but i will forget it. Durin's tower it is. You have long forgotten how it is to fight with someone as strong as you"

"I doubt it, day by day I dance with death in mortal combat with the beasts of the Withered Heath..." The two faced each other, Farnin's small team clambering over a low wall of the tower, fleeing to safety. In one small corner of the tower lay the lacerated corpse of Gandalf the Grey, now a pile of robes and torn skin. Frost whipped around the pair, Sorthog standing straight, radiating superiority while Farnin hunched over, his fur coat rippling as he stooped over Korlan. He didn't need to win, only take enough time away from the beast in front of him so as to buy time for his faithful comrades...