A SWORDS DAY

>Last of all, Húrin stood alone. Then he cast aside his shield, and wielded an axe two-handed; and it is sung that the axe smoked in the black blood of the troll-guard of Gothmog until it withered, and each time that he slew Húrin cried:

>'Aurë entuluva! Day shall come again!'

Death!!!

DEATH!!!!!!!

Tolkien knows how to get the blood flowing. Goddamn

We few, we deplorable few...

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this