02:34am 30/04/2008
  In a back alley, of a crumbled section of Minas Tirith turned slum, there has been a murder. It is not the first murder in this part of the city in the past six months. Most of the guards keep other sections of the city secure, and those that do come here, come so for illicit reasons - a cheap prostitute, opium shipped from Dol Amroth.

But this isn't just any murder, and it isn't just any murder. The easterling wipes his sword clean, and his grin glints, cheshire like in the darkness.		  
     

(burning within)
 
   
04:25am 10/01/2008
  Who: Celeborn, Khamul and Tahirah
What: Uhm..THEY MADE ME WRITE THIS AT 4AM! With apologies and certain credits to Jessi, namely a certain poem XD Khamul insisted! Tahirah totally slips up and lets out some information!
Where: Khand
When: God knows?


Celeborn had tracked the wraith for weeks now, across the Anduin and into Mordor itself. A desolate land of volcanic rock and steaming vents, the remnants of an Age of corruption in every cragged rock. Past the settlements that Aragorn had granted the slaves of Mordor, where they could still grow food and reclaim the land from darkness. And farther still, south and East, until he rode across a fertile plain, grass clawing out of the snow in some places, and the faint promise of flowers in spring.

The wraith was joined by others at some point, and that made tracking him the easier. At last, overlooking a wide river, Celeborn found his prey, "What game is it you play?"

( There are two kinds of magics. Those that work with the world, weaving and working and joining with and within it, and those that work against the very order of nature. The latter always bites back, but nothing of this scale...the bite will be harsh indeed, and though Arda may heal herself, the scars will remain for some time. )		  
     

(burning within)
 
 
khamul