I know, I know. I shouldn't start another story while I still have so many others to update. But this one's been kicking around in my head for years, and I'll graduate from college in May so I should be able to update a lot more soon.
Our story begins, as all good stories do, in Rivendell, Imladris in the Elven tongue. Where it is October the twenty-fourth, the year 3018 of the Third age, and two mysterious travelers from far away are about to "crash the party" as the Hobbits say…
"Black Fire Pass sure looks different, this time that is." Muttered a grey bearded man in a long overcoat, two pistols strapped to his sides, and the trademark Witch Hunter's hat adorning his brow. His companion nodded then said "As Sigmar defeated his foes we must be vigilant, for Chaos corrupts all… Did I ever tell you of the discrepancy I found in the third litany of the twenty fourth part of the Deus Sigmar?" He was dressed in a breastplate, long red robes, a circlet about his shaved head and he carried a massive Warhammer.
Coming around a bend the mounted pair happened to look up, and they saw it… Imladris, but unlike all of those native to the land they did not awe at it's magnificent grandeur. Instead, if it can be believed, they scowled.
"That certainly wasn't here before!" shouts the Witch Hunter angrily, the Warpriest of Sigmar squints, as though trying to see through dense fog… or illusion. Then he says "I see no obvious signs of Chaos, let us take a closer look." They spur their mounts on.
In Imladris… Lord Elrond Halfelven sits in his study, his daughter Arwen and foster son Aragorn sit beside Gandalf the Grey, Israi extraordinaire. Lord Elrond makes a motion to speak when there is a knock on the door of his study.
"Come in" says Elrond
"My lord" says the sentry, one of three at the main gate to Rivendell, once he enters the room. "There is a… um, pair of people at the gate. They demanded very rudely to see the master of the house, and they are dressed ever so oddly."
Elrond fluidly stood up, and followed by Gandalf, Arwen, and Aragorn, he makes his way through Rivendell's many corridors towards the gate, following the sentry, even though he knew the way.
Upon arriving at the main gate they immediately saw our friends, the Witch Hunter and the Warpriest, who were eying the structure as though it might reach out and swallow them up any second. A paranoid lot they were.
"Greetings travelers, and welcome to Rivendell." Said Elrond, with his daughter, Aragorn, and Gandalf watching from behind.
"Blasted Elves" muttered the Witch Hunter
"Sigmar give me strength." mutters the Warpriest
Elrond, and well, frankly, everyone but the pair was taken aback, is that the kind of courtesy afforded an Elven Lord?
Elrond tries not to grimace. "We were not expecting your arrival, though in these dark times, many a visitor is unexpected."
The Witch Hunter grimaces, as though being polite caused him pain "We were simply looking for directions, where in Black Fire Pass are we?"
Elrond raised an eyebrow, Black Fire Pass? He had never heard of such a place! "I'm sorry but I do not know of the place of which you speak, you are in the valley of Imladris, in the region of Middle-Earth called Eirador." He said
"Eirador? Middle-Earth? What is this nonsense?! I…" started the Witch Hunter, but was abruptly cut off by his friend, who raised a hand and said "Perhaps you are simply unfamiliar with our naming, if you could tell us what direction the Empire is then we can…"
"Empire? There is no Empire in Middle-Earth!" says Aragorn, who is shocked at the look he receives, one of utmost suspicion and disgust, as though he had thrown something particularly nasty on the Witch Hunter's boots; and a look of pity, as though he was some sort of simpleton, and as much suspicion as the other.
"If we could simply see a blasted map we can leave." says the Witch Hunter as though the idea appealed to him greatly.
Elrond pursed his lips, he would honestly like to be rid of these two rude men, and if this was the way then he would happily oblige.
Elrond nods to one of the sentries who pulls out a parchment map from a small alcove near the gate, then hands it over to the Witch Hunter.
To Elrond's utmost surprise the man's brow furrows, then he gives Elrond a look as though he is playing some sort of juvenile trick upon him.
"What's this?" says the Witch Hunter
"A map" says Arwen, the man looks at her darkly.
"I can see that; but this is not the Old World! Where is the Empire, Brettonia, the Border Princes! For Sigmar's sake, what are you trying to pull!" shouts the Witch Hunter.
"Who is Sigmar?" asks Gandalf.