Board Thread:Middle Earth Roleplay Board/@comment-25356210-20151103025943/@comment-26444332-20151111010508

The armies are ready, ice-blue banners bearing a white snowflake surrounded by nine stars above them. The road is finished, and the sentinels over it are watchful. The soldiers stand silently, proud to take the fight to the Enemy at last.

"Soldiers of the Free Peoples! Elves, Men, Dwarves, hear me! We march to Dagorlad! For the Light and for freedom!" Faenor cries, drawing Ringil with a flashing light from atop a white horse. The horse rears as he lifts the blade, and as it goes back down to all fours the ancient Elvish blade tilts forwards, and the armies begin to march, to victory or to death.

Under his breath, Faenor mutters,"I hope you're on your way to the Mountain, or this will be for naught."