Whitzz/544K-RP-Datasets huggingface dataset:
Thread: Relaxing Corruption [private for me and Gashnaw]

At least this time it won't hurt. He said calmly patting her head like he would a dog. He didn't pull her head towards his cock, letting her go at her own pace. He was starting to figure her out, and while he did think she was just tying to get back at daddy, it did not bother him. After all, if he was able to keep going with her, he could train her, and her little conflict with daddy would become her own will and wanting him regardless of what the repercussions would be. That however would be the fun part, when he didn't seem to be a bad boy and having her parents approve of him. Not that he cared if they did or did not, he just hated when people jumped to him as a tool to piss off their folks. he had money so it was not like he was Turing to thievery, he had a perfect GPA and could get into any college he wanted. It just impressed parents and he was beyond polite. There were times parents liked him more than their own children. If only his own folks could like him that much. Look I am not gonna be nice all night. you have to start doing what you are told a but quicker.
Thread: Relaxing Corruption [private for me and Gashnaw]

It's not like she didn't see some videos on her phone late in night when she got overly curious so she reached to the hard cock that not so long was inside of her pussy and grabbed it. Not knowing that the other tried to figure out her motives she focused on then and there. Ayako glanced at Bryan wondering what he would do if she wouldn't be quick enough.. and how quick is quicker. Deciding it had no sense to ask that at the moment she slowly stroked up and down, a bit surprised with how firm the cock seemed in her hand. It was a first time she had an occasion to check it out so closely so soon she forgot she was observed and while stroking it she poked at the beginning and run a tip of her soft finger under the crown. She wondered how it felt, was it any similar as to how it felt for her to touched her clit? Probably.. the nerves were aligned differently.
Thread: Dagor Dagorath

td text text text text text text text td td Introduction A whispering of evil had begun to creep slowly over the land. It was easily ignored by most. The Elves were the first to sense its presence, but their warnings fell on deaf ears. Mortal memory was too short. Their eyes too blind to that which they did not wish to see. And so, it was only the Elves who remained vigilant over the years that passed. But even they discovered too late its source. An ancient evil was rising. One greater even then Sauron. The evil came on the heals of the Valars diminishing power in Arda. Fulfilling a prophecy that had long been forgotten. The prophecy of Dagor Dagorath that foretold of the return of Morgoth through the Void into which he had been banished many millennia ago. He shattered the Sun and the Moon, plunging Arda into darkness and chaos. The races of Arda must unite once more to drive back the darkness for a final time. To destroy, once and for all, the corruptive and corrosive stain of Morgoth from the land. X o X o X o X Nair Nair sat on a patch of grass, her face upturned to the sky, her pale hair trailed in the grass, long strands of it blowing across her face in the light breeze. She was lost in thought as she studied the stars. The only source of natural light to grace Arda in over a month. She marvelled at the twists life took. Many of the Elves that remained had chosen to sail west in the face of the growing evil sweeping the land. Her mother and father had urged her to go with them. And she had made her mind up to do so, despite the feeling she had that she wasnt finished in Arda. She had left a few days after them, with every intention of meeting them in the Grey Havens. It was during her travels that the Sun and Moon disappeared. The evil they had all felt growing reaching its peak and finally revealing itself to the world. Throwing everything and everyone into chaos. She continued on, though more then ever she felt the pull to stay. To help somehow. Indecision was wearing on her by the time she reached Lindon and she tarried there until she met a stranger. An Elven male who convinced her to join him on his quest to gather together the missing pieces of the Sun. It seemed an impossible task. But impossible tasks have been completed before, as proven by history time and again. It was better then doing nothing. Better then running away. She was ill equipped for such a journey. She had no weapons save a long knife kept in a sheath on her waist. And while she wasnt helpless, her fighting skills were little more then rudimentary. Her primary focus through out her life had been healing. She had determination on her side though. It felt right, and rooted in that feeling was the knowledge that had her brother been there he would have made the same choice to stay and fight for the freedom of Arda. td td text text text text text text text td
Thread: Dagor Dagorath

Gilraen Bereniel was traipsing through the wilds near the Gulf of Lune, having spent the day well, she assumed that it was the day in the Grey Havens. They were a beautiful sight, and she enjoyed the breathtaking nighttime view of the sea from the docks. She herself was never a sailor, and never planned on sailing, but she certainly enjoyed the presence of the ocean. She was born and raised in Ithilien, Gondor, and had spent most of her life there. What had brought her here was a sense for adventure, for curiosity some of her father's tales spoke of this place, and of the magic it seemed to hold. After all, wasn't this where Elves like Lord Elrond of Rivendell had come to sail West? It was almost a sacred place, and to be here, to smell the air and touch the city, it was like a pilgrimage had been made. But of course, heroes and legends had no place in this day and age, right? Was her itching bow hand just a dream, a wish of hers? Ever since the sun had gone out, she had had a feeling that something big was coming...and she wanted to be a part of it. The only problem was trying to figure out how - it's not like it was in the stories, with a council coming to create a fellowship. So what to do? As she was lost in thought, she spotted a figure in the distance, sitting on a patch of grass, and she froze. Raen had not expected to run into anyone else out here, and wondered what the other could be doing out here. It looked...vaguely female, perhaps? Finding out their purpose - and name - would require getting closer. Raen took a deep breath and walked closer to the person. Hail friend, what brings you out here? She greeted, trying to be cordial...cordiality was not her strong suit, so some of the words came out a bit rough and a bit fast. Elerondiel Miriel Peredhel had been travelling for a few months now, with a companion she'd acquired in her hometown of Rivendell. He seemed like a trustworthy sort, having told her and her family that he was a ranger from the north - he was born in...Fornost, was it? She wasn't really sure - those tales he'd told them seemed a distant luxury now. Her horse's tail swatted away a few flies, and she glanced over her shoulder at the man riding beside her. He was taller than she, and taller than any other man she'd ever met. Though, to be fair, her experience with Men was limited to some degree. She remembered about a month ago, how the sun had suddenly gone dark, and how they had decided to go ahead to Gondor, where they might find more information on what had happened to it. So...anything interesting on your mind, ranger? Elerondiel inquired softly, just barely audible over the sound of hooves as they rode along. I'm afraid that I'm out of conversation ideas for the moment, myself, and I feel that a bit of warm conversation chases away the coldness of the dark. In the darkness, lit only by stars, she was a bit harder to see, but she had the dark brown hair and the grey eyes of her kin, her eyes which reflected the starlight in silvery pools. She was also tall, like most of her kin, and very lithe. She was an agile figure on foot, and weighed much less than a human woman of the same stature.
Thread: Dagor Dagorath

Aldwyn, Ranger of the North, slayer of monsters, babysitter of young elves... no that wasn't quite it, Companion and bodyguard of an elven scholar... that was a bit more like it. It was easy to forget that despite her fair face she could have been easily 3x his age. Thats not to say he didn't like her company, It was honestly quite nice to have a companion to while away the monotony of the road with, even if the road had become much more dangerous of late. With the light of the sun gone the world had become a much darker place, and not just literally. Evil stirred in every corner of the land pervading its putrid presence, perverting once beautiful lands into dens of orcs who had no need to hide under the mountains from the light of day anymore. ...at least he had company for the end of the world... Aldwyn was stirred from his thoughts by her question, even when swimming in his mindscape he had his ears open and listening otherwise he would have been warg shit a long time ago. Well Lady Peredhel, It has been striking me oddly that instead of using the name Randir you insist on calling me Ranger, But if it is warm conversation you are looking for, I might have a story or two If you would be interested, may help the road go by a bit quicker he offered His voice was smooth and soft as he spoke, warm like a hearth fire. his dirty blond hair softly illuminated by the dim starlight, his amber colored eyes still every so often drifting wearily to the corners of his vision and then back making sure they were not being followed. Aldwyn was a man of great stature and strong build that would never betray how light he was on his feet, or how quiet he could be, when he needed to be. If he could have his way he would speak loudly and proudly letting all those who could hear listen to his tales, but now wasnt the time for that....
Thread: Dagor Dagorath

The day the sun fell was the first time young Moira had seen anything resembling panic in the tranquil borders of the Shire. All were frightened and convinced it was the end of days. However unlikely, the Thain, had restored some sense of order by calling for a Shire-moot, which at least gave everyone something to do. In quite practical hobbit character they decided to bring in the harvest a little earlier, the grains and fruits would not be as fat and ripe but neither would they spoil on the stalk or vine. Moira was frustrated that none would reach out beyond the Shire to learn of what was happening and what was to come. The hobbits preferred to stick to their own lands and people, sitting on their stores and provisions they would simply wait it out and trust to the men and elves and other more adventurous races to figure it all out. Most hobbits Moira's age had never been to a Shire-moot, but now not only had she experienced such an unusual gathering, there was now word of a Shire-muster, mobilizing the militia of Hobbitry-in-arms. She had only come of age the summer before last but it suddenly seemed like ages ago. That summer she had sat on a fence at the edge of the Shire dreaming of adventure and living in interesting times like the War of the Ring. This was nothing like what she had in mind though, she longed to feel the warmth of the sun on her face once more, surely this wasn't the end? She had not even learned to love. She had not been summoned to the Shire-muster however, it was for the 'men-folk only', apparently she being a girl was seen un-fit to carry ancient weapons and parade about clumsily. For a week now she had watched them guard the edges of the Shire looking nervous and foolish. Moira toiled day and night, well it felt more like night and night now, helping to gather the harvest and put it in stores. But now the crop was in and there was little to do but wait. Most hobbits were well suited for such a strategy, but it chafed at young Moira to sit and do nothing while the world was changing so rapidly and not for the better. The Thain scoffed at her desire to venture forth, in fact he forbid it. You will only attract attention to us, and that young lady is not what we need right now. She could see that the Thain was afraid as were many of the hobbits. Their instinct was to hide in their hobbit holes and wait it out. Moira made up her mind to take another path. She began to pilfer the supplies and equipment she would need. She was a stealthy creature, even by hobbit standards. She usually practiced her stealth playing tricks on troublesome boys her age and a few particularly cranky adults. She had managed to gather a fair pack of gear for a proper adventure, all she needed now was a fast pony and the courage to set out. She knew just the one too, and with no more harvest to bring in, it wasn't like he would be needed. She hoped for some sign or signal, or perhaps a group of adventurers to pass through the Shire as she really had no idea where to go or whom to turn to in this desperate hour.
Thread: Dagor Dagorath

Raen turned to look at the man who'd addressed her. He stood easily over a foot taller than her, and seemed agile for his size. She stopped walking when she was only a couple of feet away, scrutinizing his fair appearance. Raen blinked once, then twice, and let out a chuckle. Um, it's nice to meet you, Elvon...and Nair. She drew the words out a bit, looking him and her up and down. It wasn't the first time she'd seen an Elf, but she always found them unearthly beautiful. She cleared her throat, and drew back a bit, meeting Elvon's indigo eyes with her violet-blue ones. My name is Gilraen Bereniel, I am a hunter from Ithilien, Gondor. She smirked. And it's your lucky day! I know of the places you're seeking. She moved closer again, peering at his map. I'd be happy to help you on your quest. I've been looking for something exciting to do with my life. She told him. Chasing falling stars seems exciting enough... She wore a leather corset, leather pants, leather boots, and a light grey travelling cloak trimmed with a golden-colored thread. She was armed in the ways of a hunter, with a longbow of Gondorian make, a quiver of arrows, a Gondorian longsword, and a trio of daggers strapped to her upper thigh. Her hood was currently down, revealing her dark brown hair that fell to her shoulders in choppy layers. Her eyes were full of a kind of mirth, despite the perpetual darkness all around her, and she did not shy away from the Elves, who were taller than her. Elerondiel chuckled, looking at Aldwyn again. I'll quit calling you 'Ranger' when you quit calling me 'Peredhel'. She told him, laughing a bit. But yes, Randir, I'd love it if you regaled me with some of your stories. Her voice was light and airy, like the caress of a warm breeze on a summer's day. Unless you'd rather hear me talk about some of the events I read about in the libraries of Rivendell... She smirked a bit. I'm sure that you find the genealogies of Erendil the Mariner and his kin super exciting... She rested her hand on her horse's neck, rubbing it gently. How much had she been through so far with Vanya? The sun going out...travelling through the darkness, wary of everything that crept in the darkness...she was not the best fighter, but she did her best to not be a burden to her ranger companion, Randir. She rubbed her horse's neck and scritched its mane gently, staring out into the darkness before them, which was lit only by the twinkling stars overhead.
Thread: Dagor Dagorath

The Shire - Just West of Brandywine Bridge Moira may not have been welcome to take up arms in defense of The Shire, but she was certainly expected to help cook and feed the men-folk that were. While many a warm pot of stew or other victuals was busy providing the six meals a day most hobbits expected, it also had to get taken quickly to the various outposts set up around the borders of The Shire. Moira was a fair cook, but her long for a hobbit legs were usually put to work doing the delivery. She enjoyed the relative freedom that gave her and also helped her get acquainted with one of the fastest ponies in all the farthings. A painted pony from the South Farthings named Tom. Despite the lack of sun the hobbits seemed to know meal times almost instinctively and there was much grumbling if she was delayed. It seemed to get worse as the darkness continued and with no obvious threat emerging the pickets began to get a bit lacking in their vigilance. Often times she found them more concerned with the food she was bringing from behind them than keeping an eye out on the unknown in front of them. As she approached the Brandywine bridge, at least four of the six hobbits-in-arms met her and Tom with no regard for the road to the East. Nathaniel Bolger... she scolded ...shouldn't you be watching for orcs, not pinning for your second breakfast? She hopped lightly off of Tom's back and stood nearly half a head taller than the Sheriff in charge of this particular outpost. She had been in school with Nathaniel and had once tackled him for pulling on her braids one too many times. She was sure she could best him in a fight if it came to that, but instead she focused on unpacking the hot food that seemed to be the focus of hobbit life even now.
Thread: Dagor Dagorath

The eastfold Randir Aldwyn chuckled a little even cracking a smile No, No. There is No need for that, I am already well acquainted with all of that Elerondiel as he pushed his horse forward, the plains of the Eastfold stretching onwards. I think I could manage a story before we get to Aldburg, we can replenish our supplies there and maybe find you a descent bed to sleep in his eyes wandered as he began to think, digging into his memory for a story appropriate for the young elf no... no... no...Aha here is a good one, it was many years ago now long before I met you in Rivendell I was.. gods was I 30? he rambled a bit, those warm dulscet tones filling the cold night as if it were the embers of a warm fire, drifting along as they crossed miles and miles of Rohirim Territory. It was a long story full of adventure and daring and only a few parts of it were made up, purely to increase the dramatic tension, so maybe instead of falling flat on his face his friend Gullimane had managed to successfully blind all the trolls with 3 flaming arrows loosed from his bow all while doing a backflip and saying something so cool, it cant be recounted here.... And that is how I came upon this, In that dark ruin was a horde of treasure the likes of which no man had seen in an age, we guessed it might have been a dragons cave before the trolls. and the Uruks. and the Wargs moved in And with that he pulls out his sword from its sheath, with a blade black as night, with an edge that shone with a pale fire and a cross guard to match, all except for underneath it, where the crossguard met the hilt where it was a dark blood red. It was actually in many pieces then, but they were in this ornate case so I figured it had to be special.. and I had this feeling... he drifts off a moment Like I was meant to come across it... the last words no more than a murmur but anyway the minute I grab the case the entire cavern starts to rumble and collapse, luckly for us it wasnt the first time some bastard tried to drop a mountain on my head. he knocks on his head for emphais Anyway about 2 years later I managed to skin this group of elven blacksmiths in the greenwood in cards, and instead of you know paying up like normal people, they offer me their services, Guarantee me that whatever They make would put any other smith to shame! so I bring out the pieces of this sword I had found and ask them to reforge it, and you should have seen them, you would have thought that I had asked them to make me a sword out of the sun itself... though I would suppose that would be a bit more useful in our current predicament. Either way with some... persuasion they agreed, and when they were done they called it Erintenu.. the morning star, Son of Anglachel and with his big finish he took a long breath with the city finally within site.
Thread: Dagor Dagorath

Yazumen the name of the wandering protector of his tribe in his homeland of the harsh desert in Harad but now broken off and living by himself with only his weapons, fighting spirit, and the ways of survival which are the only things he has left to carry with him. His whole life growing up had been a harsh one as he was born into the age of endless fighting and war to dominate the various territories that the other clans had controlled as well as having to eventually fight and defend their own territory himself along with other young warriors whos time had come and will have passed just like him. Now grown up and becoming a full battle hardened desert warrior, Yazu has decided to leave his home as a way to leave the past as well as the loss of his father who had fought against the other clans but eventually fell himself behind him. Now wandering into the town of Aldburg it was wise for him to at least stay in the town for a few days to get his strength completely back and set himself on a planned course rather than continuing to hopelessly wander around hoping to just find his purpose so quickly. Luckily this had been mostly easy since judging by his appearance no one seemed to want to confront or talk to him about anything in particular besides either of the inn keepers who had asked if he ever needed anything to which he had politely declined most of the time, but accepting the help when needed.
Thread: Dagor Dagorath

Thromi Shortbeard The Shire Brandywine Bridge He could smell it even before the Bridge gate came into view. Thromi was not used to traveling through the Shire. The recent ban by the King of Arnor disallowed any men from entering the Shire but though dwarves were not included, they still respected the wish of the renewed monarch in the north. Unless they had business or some great need pressed them, traveling companies of dwarves really entered in these days, preferring the east-west road further north that let them get to their mines and halls in the Blue Mountain. But that was before. With the sun gone, almost anywhere outside of any inhabited region became tremendously dangerous. Orc parties and warg packs were rumoured to be out in force. It was not safe to travel alone anywhere anymore. Without the sun, all matter of evil things were starting to come forth again. So this time, since he often did travel alone, Thromi decided he would pass through the Shire and hopefully avoid the worst dangers further north. It immediately was showing some fruit in that regard as Thromi at once picked up the scent of hot, delicious food. No one would be cooking if there was danger about, hobbits least of all. They were quite crafty like that. He himself would not be sneaking up, coming along the road in open sight. He was armed, though his axes at his belt were concealed by the folds of his cloak. But between it the gleam of his chain mail glinted in the reflection of the torch lights. He wore a helm and looked quite formidable for his size, a good foot taller than most of the hobbits. They saw him of course, beginning with little Clovis Bracegirdle. He jumped up, nearly spilling his hot stew all over himself. Someones coming! He hissed to the other hobbits, pulling on his feathered sheriff cap and picking up his wooden stave. He was young and thought every little movement in the dark was something evil and malicious. Thromi saw the frantic activity and paused a few paces from the outward gate, on the far side of the bridge from where the Hobbits were. He quirked an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting to be addressed and challenged by the guard. He would not enter or trespass against their laws but he hoped they would not turn him away, as going back and detouring back to the road would add days to his journey. In truth, he figured it would all amount to naught if the sun did not come out ever again. Thromi, son of Fromli, at your service! He said cheerfully to the gatekeepers. Just a humble traveler, wishing to stay at the inn, have a mug o good beer, and be on my way if its acceptable.