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Rhûn
Feb 18, 2006 8:16:25 GMT -5
Post by Valsharen on Feb 18, 2006 8:16:25 GMT -5
-=The land of the Easterlings=-
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Rhûn
Feb 19, 2006 13:56:50 GMT -5
Post by Valsharen on Feb 19, 2006 13:56:50 GMT -5
Equîdor strode into the command tent swiftly. A viscious scowl was on his face and all the soldiers quailed in his way, allowing him swift passage. "What is the meaning of this" He spat at one of the soldiers leaning over a map. The soldier hastly stood up to attention and Equîdor stared at the helmed Easterling for a few seconds before continueing. "I have been informed that a man here...nameless needless to say, has turned rogue for us" he spoke each word with hatred, the several commanders and soldiers in the tent tensed. "Is this true?" Equîdor spat at each of them. Each of them denied except for one, a commander with his helm by his side, who just remained at attention. "Sire i know-" one of the soldiers blurted out before cringing in pain. Stuck in his gut was Equîdor's mighty longsword, buried to the hilt. Pulling out the mighty sword, Equîdor watched with hate as the soldier slumped to the ground, blood dripping from his wound and spreading over the dirt floor of the Rhûn land. They had been marching for several days west and had yet to enter the Dagorlad plains. "I do not endure people to blurt out stories...They are weak and would sucumb to torture if captured easily." Stepping over the soldier, he glared at each Easterling in the tent again. "Step forward, and i May show mercy." The Black Easterling spat, for that was his nickname among the people of Rhûn. The Warlord, Equîdor, was renowned for his terrorism of his own people as well as that of others. He drew a deep hatred with the men of the west for defeating them at the Pelennor and wished for revenge ever since he had heard of the defeat. A commander stepped forward, his head bent in dissapointment. All the people looked at him and they all knew he was the spy. "Commander Ulnoth...I am very dissipointed" Equîdor muttered as he approached the armoured man. "As i said, i will be merciful...You have seven seconds to get out of this camp or die" The commander just stood there dumbly for three seconds before dawning on the truth that Equîdor would do as he said, he ran out of the tent and several more seconds later the hiss of arrows sounded around the camp, followed by a dull thud. "Let that not happen again..." the Black Easterling spat before leaving the tent.
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