As the boulders came a'crashing, Sorontur realised that there wasno time for self-pity. He raised himself with his stumpy limb, uttering a cry of pain. With a small glance back at the tumbling rocks, he ran for it after Tuor and the rest.

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Can you even dare to look or bear to think of me: this loathsome gargoyle, who burns in hell, but secretly yearns for heaven, secretly... secretly.... Fear can turn to love- you'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster: this repulsive carcasse who seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty, secretly... secretly....

(Is anybody there? Does anybody care? I don't want all of my topics to become necro-posts.... I'd post some more, but I dunno where Aerandir wants to go with this.)

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Can you even dare to look or bear to think of me: this loathsome gargoyle, who burns in hell, but secretly yearns for heaven, secretly... secretly.... Fear can turn to love- you'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster: this repulsive carcasse who seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty, secretly... secretly....

Lol, sorry. Every time I've got time, I forget about this RPG, and most of the time, I don't have time.

Basically, right now, everyone who is RPing here, with a few other miscellaneous characters, is separated from the main group by the rockslide. From there we get to RPG about the "terrible journey" south out of the mountains and through the now Orc-ridden Beleriand until we reach the havens at the mouth of Sirion.

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Sirithadar coughed, turning away from the rising cloud of dust that the falling rocks had created. The small particles filled the air, stinging his eyes; and, because he could not help but breath in, they coated his throat and nostrils as well. All in all, it was a very undesirable situation.

When the dust finally settled, he rubbed the dirt out of his eyes and looked around, his eyes growing wider. Only fifteen elves were on this side of the mound of boulders. Looking at the precariously balanced pile, though, Sirithadar knew there was no way any of them would be able to climb it, not even if they had been fresh and vigorous, instead of weary and wounded. "We are on our own," he said quietly.

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Cuwe had been knocked down when the boulders started flying. It was fortunate he hadn't been crushed beneath any of them. He stood up slowly, coughing and blinking his stinging eyes. He saw the huge pile of rocks, and knew that Sirithadar was right-there was no way the group would be making it over those boulders.

Aesuthiel withdrew her hand from Atalante's shoulder, and wiped dust from her eyes. "Anyone injured?"


((Sorry I haven't posted in a while. In the process of moving and its hard for me to get access to a computer. That should change in Jan. though.))

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Atalante coughed, her face dusty. "No," she replied to Aesuthiel, blinking dust out of her eyes.

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