MorgathosTheRussian
Follower of Sigmar's Holy Path
Darkness, in Middle-Earth, is like an unpredictable storm. At some times, it can be a petty shower, nothing more than an nuisance. Yet at other times, it can be a destructive hurricane, destroying all in it's path. At the end of the Third Age, Darkness was said hurricane. Sauron had gather his strength, and decided that now was the time. From the tainted East came an unending tide of foul creatures, overrunning all in a black wave of malice and death. Mighty Minas Tirith fell to the Wolf-Ram Grond, fair Imladris destroyed by legions of corrupted men from the north, even the towering Lonely Mountain was sacked by hordes of Easterlings and Orcs from Dol Guldur. But nowhere was the slaughter so complete than at the formidable ruined watchtower of Amon Sul. Here, countless refugees gathers to the supposed security offered by the last of the Fellowship and the remnants of the Western forces. Yet Sauron knew this was all but a thin shield of hope, created by the Heir of Isildur and the White Wizard in a vain attempt to rally the west. The legions of the Dark Lord slowly surrounded Weathertop, a storm gathering in the skies above it. And when the time was right, the storm came. Led by the Nazgul, a countless army of evil folk surged towards the ruined watchtower, and slaughtered all before them. Soon, the heads of the Heir and the Wizard were paraded through the land. The last hope of the Free People had fallen.
Ten years passed since the massacre at Amon Sul. The Darkness spread itself all over Middle-Earth, corrupting the land and covering the land in the fires of industry. Erebor and Dale became the foul domain of a dark spirit, dominating Rhovanion through his iron giant. Gondor and Rohan became the realm of the Orthanc, though Saurmaun was overthrown and replaced with the Mouth of Sauron. Eriador remained divided, however, for Sauron desired to see the hated land of the High Elves torn apart by desperate people fighting for survival. The World grew dark, and for a time, it was dark.
Yet hope remains, even if it is a small flame in an endless sea of shadow. The One Ring, the key to Sauron's power, has been lost once more. In the far north, rumors of a great host slowly marching south has sparked hope in the hearts of the enslaved. And lastly, a band of adventurers prepares to descend from the mountains of Dorwinion, seeking to reach the Mines of Moria, and retrieve a legendary artefact of the Khazad that may cleanse the world or crush the foe.
@GamerAced @MysteriousMagpie @Evomendacil @River Song @Grissum2
Ten years passed since the massacre at Amon Sul. The Darkness spread itself all over Middle-Earth, corrupting the land and covering the land in the fires of industry. Erebor and Dale became the foul domain of a dark spirit, dominating Rhovanion through his iron giant. Gondor and Rohan became the realm of the Orthanc, though Saurmaun was overthrown and replaced with the Mouth of Sauron. Eriador remained divided, however, for Sauron desired to see the hated land of the High Elves torn apart by desperate people fighting for survival. The World grew dark, and for a time, it was dark.
Yet hope remains, even if it is a small flame in an endless sea of shadow. The One Ring, the key to Sauron's power, has been lost once more. In the far north, rumors of a great host slowly marching south has sparked hope in the hearts of the enslaved. And lastly, a band of adventurers prepares to descend from the mountains of Dorwinion, seeking to reach the Mines of Moria, and retrieve a legendary artefact of the Khazad that may cleanse the world or crush the foe.
@GamerAced @MysteriousMagpie @Evomendacil @River Song @Grissum2
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