Disclamir: I do not, have not, and probly will not own lord of the rings.
One day after the fall of Suron, Aarogon, Legolas, and Gimli, ventured into Mordor for some unknown reason. When they met someone they did not exspect.
"Well well well, if it isn't Legolas, the prince of the Mirkwood."out from who knows where jumped a small seemingly 13 year old girl with pointed ears.
"Sura? (SA-RA)"asked a bewilderd and adorable Legolas.
"You know this girl? She's as fealthy as the ground we walk on." asked Gimli.
"Yes I know her. She is of the wondering elfs. She has visted the Mirkwood more then once." Seeing there confussed faces he added, "the wandering elfs are the fouth clan of elfs. Few know of there exsitence."
"True few people know of our exsitence but there are not FOUR clans of elfs there are six. And that exsplains why I'm here."
"ummmmmm no it doesn't." replied now and equally confused Legolas.
"Sure it does but you do not know the story so ALOW me to tell it to you.
Long ago there were only four clans, the Mirkwood elfs, the Rivendell elfs, the Lothlorian elfs, and the elfs of Mordor. I know this because I was once apart of that clan. My parents were the leaders. Each having equal power for there fathers ruled togeather before. My mother Miseda, and my father...Suron. Yes my father is Suron. One day my father left. He was turning. He felt something growing in his mutually good frame. He was becoming hard hearted. My father left for fear of harming my mother, a fate of which he was doomed to do no matter how hard he tried not to. He left with half the elfs in our clan.
This place was once beautiful. Full of lush life. That was to end soon though. He left for a few years. I was 13 when he returnd. He was clad in armer thick. He forced his way in...with the once elfs...now mutated into the fifth clan, the one clan does not prodly speak its heratage, the orc. He advanced on my mother. I was there, hiding in the shadows...he still saw me though. He took off his helmet. He was my father no misstake, but his beauty and his youth seemed to be no more yet still there. He had lost all inocence.
When he found my mother he grasped her chin and kissed her lips roughly. He through her off and took as many elfs as he could...into slavery. Many ran, me included. We needed to run. There was no use of us as salves. Thats how the sixth clan emerged, the wandering elfs, and the Mordor elfs were replaced by the slave elfs. My mother being there leader. Most who exscaped have died, leaveing only there off spring to take after them.
We see death, we hear death, we feel death, we want DEATH but can not have it. We are left. Those who excaped vist as long as we can, but that only lasts so long. Most of the clan never vist nor know anything about this clan. I am the leader of the wandering elfs, as my mother is still leader of the slave elfs, and my father, though no longer in power, is still leader of the orcs.
You mortols have all the luck...death is something we have longed for. I refuse to die because the slave elfs, they can not die no matter how hard they try to. They can not leave. It is impossible for them. They are bond by what little power he still has to be eternally locked in this barren wast land. They are as good as dead. "tears are know rolling down her face, she turns and leaves, then calls back, "come and I shall let you meet the slave elfs, they injoy the rare visters they get. Even orcs are reluctintly welcome now." And they leave.
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One day after the fall of Suron, Aarogon, Legolas, and Gimli, ventured into Mordor for some unknown reason. When they met someone they did not exspect.
"Well well well, if it isn't Legolas, the prince of the Mirkwood."out from who knows where jumped a small seemingly 13 year old girl with pointed ears.
"Sura? (SA-RA)"asked a bewilderd and adorable Legolas.
"You know this girl? She's as fealthy as the ground we walk on." asked Gimli.
"Yes I know her. She is of the wondering elfs. She has visted the Mirkwood more then once." Seeing there confussed faces he added, "the wandering elfs are the fouth clan of elfs. Few know of there exsitence."
"True few people know of our exsitence but there are not FOUR clans of elfs there are six. And that exsplains why I'm here."
"ummmmmm no it doesn't." replied now and equally confused Legolas.
"Sure it does but you do not know the story so ALOW me to tell it to you.
Long ago there were only four clans, the Mirkwood elfs, the Rivendell elfs, the Lothlorian elfs, and the elfs of Mordor. I know this because I was once apart of that clan. My parents were the leaders. Each having equal power for there fathers ruled togeather before. My mother Miseda, and my father...Suron. Yes my father is Suron. One day my father left. He was turning. He felt something growing in his mutually good frame. He was becoming hard hearted. My father left for fear of harming my mother, a fate of which he was doomed to do no matter how hard he tried not to. He left with half the elfs in our clan.
This place was once beautiful. Full of lush life. That was to end soon though. He left for a few years. I was 13 when he returnd. He was clad in armer thick. He forced his way in...with the once elfs...now mutated into the fifth clan, the one clan does not prodly speak its heratage, the orc. He advanced on my mother. I was there, hiding in the shadows...he still saw me though. He took off his helmet. He was my father no misstake, but his beauty and his youth seemed to be no more yet still there. He had lost all inocence.
When he found my mother he grasped her chin and kissed her lips roughly. He through her off and took as many elfs as he could...into slavery. Many ran, me included. We needed to run. There was no use of us as salves. Thats how the sixth clan emerged, the wandering elfs, and the Mordor elfs were replaced by the slave elfs. My mother being there leader. Most who exscaped have died, leaveing only there off spring to take after them.
We see death, we hear death, we feel death, we want DEATH but can not have it. We are left. Those who excaped vist as long as we can, but that only lasts so long. Most of the clan never vist nor know anything about this clan. I am the leader of the wandering elfs, as my mother is still leader of the slave elfs, and my father, though no longer in power, is still leader of the orcs.
You mortols have all the luck...death is something we have longed for. I refuse to die because the slave elfs, they can not die no matter how hard they try to. They can not leave. It is impossible for them. They are bond by what little power he still has to be eternally locked in this barren wast land. They are as good as dead. "tears are know rolling down her face, she turns and leaves, then calls back, "come and I shall let you meet the slave elfs, they injoy the rare visters they get. Even orcs are reluctintly welcome now." And they leave.
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