Board Thread:Fan Fiction Board./@comment-25344655-20160106010533

(Note, everything that happens in this is canon to my lore.)

Glosur stood in the silver tower, overlooking the events of Middle-earth unfolding and occasionally looking back at the Palantir. He shook his head as the Limwaith and Moredain grappled over land they couldnt keep, he then turned north to Forodwaith, where the peoples there gathered to address a permanent future in those icy plains. His eyes wandered east, where Gondor and Rhûn fought for dominance over the Rhûnnic steppes, and the Red mountains watching over like a hawk. In the west he saw Eriador united once more, while elves and dwarves alike looked on with weary happiness. He saw dwarves greeting the final elves heading west. Glosur chuckled at that, the late fifth age and the dwarves and elves there still stuck together like flies on a web. Finally he turned his eyes to his own kingdom, as the newfound steam power of the world moved ever onward. He looked on smugly, his dwarves may not have invented steam power, but we revolutionised it. Improved it in ways the eyes of men could not comprehend. Though as Glosur looked upon his empire he noticed flames from a southern city in the Harad Mountains, he looked closer, and saw his kin fighting themselves. One carried a banner of a red axe over a silver gold banner. He saw in hopless wait as his dwarves were cut down and thrown out. Soon enough, a dwarf came to him, bringing demands from the 'New Dwarven Republic' demanding the harad mountains be handed over, or war. Glosur was enraged.

The NDR has settled far into the mountains and coast, and the Union still has no leads on who started this war. Glorin Darloc has been kidnapped, and Glosur is yet to hear from the unit down in Harnost. Galmor is fighting like a demon in the south, but he has gone dark...

[[File:Civil_war.png|thumb|Red: NDR

Blue: U(o)SS

Green: Co-owned]] 