Dominque Darkwatch hears explosions and turns to see flames and smoke all over the city island of Alqualonde. She looks over and sees the king praying and then back again at the dragon and balrog in time to see a tower fall. She is again horrified to see the pair wheel about in the air and head back in their direction. "M'lord...your highness! King Olwe, this is no time to be dallying about on the docks! We need to seek cover!"
Nole hears loud roars and looks behind towards the Palace. The tower beside it is wreathed in flame and crumbling. Horrified, he looks around, they are on an isle coated in flames. Grasping for reason, he waits by the docks. Going inland now would lead to their deaths. He could only wait by his king, by the waters of the sea.
Olwe stands. He felt something... It felt like the lull of the ocean, and for a moment, his heart was comforted by it. He believes that the Lord of the Waters heard him. But the shriek of the dragon, and the wild, joyous roar of the Balrog sends a child down his spine, and his knees turns to water at Dominque's cry. He whirls around to see Tilion's Tower in flames.
Súraumo snarls angrily at the imperious words of the Balrog, but here at last are the promised fat elves. He could claim the gold from the fallen tower later. His eye gleaming malignantly, he circles out over the ocean and then turns back towards the harbour and the cluster of beings there. His wings beat powerfully as he spies the figure of the one whom the balrog seeks, standing tall and noble among the others. This one should make a fine start to his meal. His jaws open in anticipation: he speeds towards the docks.
The balrog's belly is aching with emptiness, but he pays it no mind. He fights best on an empty stomach -- though this could hardly be called "fighting." There will be time to gorge on the carrion later. He shouts in triumph as the dragon circles in, and swoops toward the king.
Olwe stares in wide-eyed horror as the Dragon with his fiery mount circles out over the ocean and swings back around toward the Swanhaven. The roar of the flames, the acrid smell of burning wood, melting glass, the popping and crackling of trees burning, the screams of the swans ... for a moment he stands in disbelief. With a grim fascination, he watches the lazy flap of the dragon's wings. Then he shakes himself. "RUN!" he screams at Dominque and Nole. He gives the sailor a savage push. "Get her to safety," he commands. Then he turns his back and plants his feet squarely apart, looks up and awaits the death that was rapidly approaching.
Nole looks at Dominque, wondering what she was thinking. Safety, he felt there was nowhere safe on the island now. Dominque Darkwatch hears the king and the command in his voice makes her instinctively comply immediately. She begins to run but then skids to a halt when she looks back and realizes the king has no intention of following. She sees him plant himself firmly, and looks up and sees the rapidly approaching dragon and balrog. She did not wish to watch, but at the same time she could not move. The King's courage was inspiring and heartbreaking at the same time. Her sword hanging limply and uselessly at her side,her breath catches as a tear fall. She realizes the futility of running against two fliers. "May the grace of the Valar protect us and guide us to the halls of Mandos."
Nole hears loud roars and looks behind towards the Palace. The tower beside it is wreathed in flame and crumbling. Horrified, he looks around, they are on an isle coated in flames. Grasping for reason, he waits by the docks. Going inland now would lead to their deaths. He could only wait by his king, by the waters of the sea.
Olwe stands. He felt something... It felt like the lull of the ocean, and for a moment, his heart was comforted by it. He believes that the Lord of the Waters heard him. But the shriek of the dragon, and the wild, joyous roar of the Balrog sends a child down his spine, and his knees turns to water at Dominque's cry. He whirls around to see Tilion's Tower in flames.
Súraumo snarls angrily at the imperious words of the Balrog, but here at last are the promised fat elves. He could claim the gold from the fallen tower later. His eye gleaming malignantly, he circles out over the ocean and then turns back towards the harbour and the cluster of beings there. His wings beat powerfully as he spies the figure of the one whom the balrog seeks, standing tall and noble among the others. This one should make a fine start to his meal. His jaws open in anticipation: he speeds towards the docks.
The balrog's belly is aching with emptiness, but he pays it no mind. He fights best on an empty stomach -- though this could hardly be called "fighting." There will be time to gorge on the carrion later. He shouts in triumph as the dragon circles in, and swoops toward the king.
Olwe stares in wide-eyed horror as the Dragon with his fiery mount circles out over the ocean and swings back around toward the Swanhaven. The roar of the flames, the acrid smell of burning wood, melting glass, the popping and crackling of trees burning, the screams of the swans ... for a moment he stands in disbelief. With a grim fascination, he watches the lazy flap of the dragon's wings. Then he shakes himself. "RUN!" he screams at Dominque and Nole. He gives the sailor a savage push. "Get her to safety," he commands. Then he turns his back and plants his feet squarely apart, looks up and awaits the death that was rapidly approaching.
Nole looks at Dominque, wondering what she was thinking. Safety, he felt there was nowhere safe on the island now. Dominque Darkwatch hears the king and the command in his voice makes her instinctively comply immediately. She begins to run but then skids to a halt when she looks back and realizes the king has no intention of following. She sees him plant himself firmly, and looks up and sees the rapidly approaching dragon and balrog. She did not wish to watch, but at the same time she could not move. The King's courage was inspiring and heartbreaking at the same time. Her sword hanging limply and uselessly at her side,her breath catches as a tear fall. She realizes the futility of running against two fliers. "May the grace of the Valar protect us and guide us to the halls of Mandos."
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