Board Thread:Middle Earth Roleplay Board/@comment-25356210-20151104005706/@comment-26444332-20151109041938

Amid the crash of war, Faenor and Glosur meet in the thick of combat. They grasp each other's forearm, Dwarf and Elf as brothers-in-arms.

"Well met." Faenor says, but before either can say more they are swarmed by more Orcs. They stand back-to-back, Naugrim and Sindar, as the Orcs surround them. They begin the deadly dance of death, killing every dark creature that ventures within their reach.

As they fight, each of them seem to sense the intent and actions of the other, testament to their long lives and experience. In an incredible feat of agility, Glosur leans over backwards as one of Faenor's swords flashes above him, decapitiating the Orc in front of the Dwarf even as Glosur hacks another Yrch's legs off, sending it rolling away in agony.

With a flash of light Faenor's daggers seem to leap from their sheaths, Ringil and Aeglos both imbedded in Yrch. The two orcs-turned-scabbards stand there, blood frothing from their spittle-slick foul lips as Faenor cuts the throats of many of their comrades. Faenor then twists to one side as Glosur stabs behind himself, skewering another Orc.

Faenor retrieves his swords as the Orcs, terrified of the two elder beings, begin to make a large oval around them. Alone as an island of calm in a sea of storm they stand there, surrounded by the bodies of the slain. At least a hundred lie on each side, while both Elf and Dwarf have only received minor scratches.