𝟬𝟮𝟯 ━━ cry when it's over

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*。☆。
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˚ ₊ ♡ ❰ BALLAD OF BROKEN SWORDS ❱
*✧ ─── ❝ ❪ cry when it's over  ❫ ❞
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ACT TWO  ── audentes fortuna iuvat 🏹 ⁺⑅

*。☆。 ★。\|/。★˚ ₊ ♡ ❰ BALLAD OF BROKEN SWORDS ❱ *✧ ─── ❝ ❪ cry when it's over  ❫ ❞ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ACT TWO  ── audentes fortuna iuvat 🏹 ⁺⑅

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═════════ ☆•° °•☆ ═════════
CHILDREN OF ARDA DUOLOGY  ⋆ ☄.
♯ ❝ TOGETHER
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE ✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
˚ ₊ ♡ the third age ─── year 3019
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━━ ˚ ₊ ♡ 🏹
❝ 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝙢𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘺
𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 𝘢𝘵 𝙙𝙖𝙬𝙣 ❞

*✧ ─── WITH HER HEART POUNDING IN HER CHEST, AND THE SHRILL CRIES OF THEIR ENEMIES FLOATING THROUGH THE TOMB AS THEY GAVE CHASE THROUGH THE DARK, GYDA tried not to let the eerie warning that echoed through the ancient hallways distract her. Her eyes scanned the corridors with deadly precision, her ears prickling with each sound that floated from the dark.

With a steady pace, Gyda was running, the light of Gandalf's staff guiding them to safety, but from the shadows Orcs came jumping out of cracks and holes, climbing the crumbling pillars that rose from the depths of the ancient dwarven city. Her knuckles whitened from the tight grip on the pommel of her sword, and adrenaline-filled blood rushed through her veins like fire.

An Orc jumped down from the ceiling, cackling and crazed as it came hurling down at her. Gyda skids to an halt, ducking under the reaching arm of the Orc, the rotten smell of flesh and blood clogging up her noise. Unsheathing her sword, both hand gripping, she brought it back with great force.

Black blood splatters her skin, dripping from her sword as she moves to catch up with the others before the body even hits the ground. Feet pounding on the rocks, as she jumps around fallen statues and broken stones. Ahead of her, down the center stalked a double line of towering pillars. They were carved like boles of mighty trees whose boughs upheld the roof with a branching tracery of stone. Their stems were smooth and black, but a red glow was darkly mirrored in their sides. Right across the floor, close to the feet of two huge pillars a great fissure had opened. Out of it a fierce red light came, and now and again flames licked at the brink and curled about the bases of the columns. Wisps of dark smoke wavered in the hot air. There was something dark about the flames, like they whispered promises of evil. The heat felt different, and for a terrifying moment, they reminded her of the flames of Mordor.

She shakes her head, banishing the idea, and blaming the adrenaline for her fears before she dashes around a corner where she sees the rest of the Fellowship comes to a sudden halt behind Gandalf as more Orcs come crawling down from the ceiling and fell to the ground.

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