Come and vote for your tale - Tale of The Week 57

[Hesus de bodemloze]

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Submission 1

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Oh How Mighty Have Fallen


It seemed endless, forever lasting,
Such was that battle, so enchanting.
Such strength flowed through my veins,
As my Elvish companion remains.
He remains so strong and vigilant under the searing heat,
He remains so powerful and agile under the blazing beat.
The battle huge, his arm tired,
He fell to the floor, Death him desired.
But that was not his fate, not yet,
I ran quickly and struck an enemy down with no regret.
Gil Galad was not to be slain here - Oh not today,
Gil Galad was to be slain another day.
I fought vigorously, defending my lord,
Eventually I fell down, along with my sword.

Such my death has been,
So empty and with no grin.
I did not die at peace,
But my life did indeed cease.
This story is to be told - Never to be forgotten,
Oh how mighty have fallen, at the hands of the rotten.

Submission 2

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

The End

Blood. All Zoe had seen that day was blood. He dodged a sword, then quickly retaliated with a blow to the head with his mailed fist, then stabbed his enemy. He dropped before him, and Zoe continued to the next man. This man was different than the last, waiting on Zoe to strike. Sadly he was too focused on Zoe to see that Lanson ran by him, just to strike the man down from the rear. Lanson had always been Zoe's best friend, and his most trusted companion. This was a good example why, they always watched the others back. They continued on, keeping 5 feet apart from each other to fully function. He could hear his comrades gasping for air, they had ran so far, killed so many. He was so tired he could barely keep on. The only thing that kept him moving was Lanson. He found another man, and he nearly killed Zoe. Zoe had to stay more focused, as the sword barely missed his stomach. He stabbed the man in the leg, and then quickly ran his shoulder into him, knocking him down. He prepared to finish him off, lifting up his sword. That's when he looked up and saw too many men to count. He paused for a split second, and looked at Lanson. Lanson stopped as well, and rested his sword on his shoulder. "Gil-galad help us" he said.

Submission 3

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

It was a good blade. It was a stolen blade, too. It was a sturdy helmet. It had been stripped from a corpse. It was nice weather. Perhaps that had been spirited away from the Undying Lands by a mischievous burst of wind?

Anyway, what did he care? All he had come here for was the gold. And supposedly, glory. The stern recruiter had regaled him with tales of the great Gil-Galad, or Earendil the Mariner. But that was not what had convinced him. The free ale was what had convinced him.

Who cared if he was Sindarin, Eldar, or even a dwarf? Well, he was thankful he wasn't a dwarf. Short stature meant shortness in other things. Breath was not what he was thinking of. But maybe if cut a few orcs down to size, maybe then he would get paid. But the captain was a stern one. No pay until they had fought. And they wouldn't fight until they had found something to fight. And what was there to fight in this land? Absolutely nothing! Not an orc to be seen, not even a pile of orcish dung to track.

And there wouldn't be any orcs for some leagues. They were now in the heart of elven territory, and very few orcs could make it past the borders. Their best bet would be with the mountain passes and crevices. There, they would find something to fight.

But for now, all they could do was strike at the wind.

Submission 4

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Gil-galad Has Fallen

A valuable weapon,
Crafted by the Elves,
A blade to slay the Orcs

Fielding an army of soldiers,
Armed with blades glowing,
An army that stood with Gil.

An army never met defeat,
Each blade strikes its mark,
One blade did strike Gil-galad,

The Elven army headless,
Standing in mourning,
With blades pointed to heaven.

Submission 5

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Consequences

Let it be known that I am DiNarodd son of Fingon son of Fingolfin etc. etc., brother
to Rodnor, a bumptious oaf, known to most as "Star of Radiance" or Gil-galad. I write
these runes, not for those who mock me now, but for the benefit of generations to
come, hopefully unsullied by the prejudice that forced me into hiding.

It is all so unfair! My whole life was spent in the shadow of my brother. You who
are not Elvish cannot even begin to comprehend what being kid-brother for a
thousand years does to one's self-esteem. And don't mistake him for the humble
paladin of the sagas. He may have kept me ever by his side, but I was also held
firmly in my (second) place. He always took first pick for himself and never gave
me the credit I deserved.

Didn't you ever wonder how Gil-galad got to be High King? I can tell you now
that it was not due to our official lineage, but to the rumour he was bastard son
of Orodreth and hence of the line of Galadriel!

***

That final battle, it should have been a triumph! The Allied Host of Númenor had
been in Mordor besieging Barad-dûr for seven years, we had covered ourselves in
glory on countless occasions. Surely I can be forgiven for one small mistake amongst
so much heroism?

I was unwell that day, my head swollen and heavy, my last memory of the previous
evening one of anticipation, having beaten my brother for the affections of a particularly
renowned Elfette of the camp followers. I am certain now he must have spiked my
cordial, for I could normally drink a whole band of Dwarves under the table!

Sauron and all his host had come out to break the siege. We were sorely pressed,
but Gil-galad was confident. Elendil, our ally had pinned most of the enemy with
a desperate charge, and we Elves made straight for Sauron himself.

While my comrades fought his Black Guard, my brother and I stepped up to face
the foul Lord of Darkness. He paused in his work, flinging aside the charred corpse
of one of our complement. My brother made a fine impromptu speech, full of
defiance and retribution. Sadly given my condition I remember little of it, but
Sauron must have been impressed, for he launched himself at us, snarling with rage.

'Brother, give me my magical spear Aiglos, known as “Snow-Thorn”, that I might
be immune from the Burning Grasp of this Fiend and end his Evil for the remaining
Ages of the World!'

It was only at that point I realised I'd left the damned thing back at camp. For the
Ainur's sake, was I to be his nanny as well as his servant?

Longsword shattered by the mere touch of Sauron's bare hand, he just had time to
give me one last look of irritation/panic/love/hate/regret/resignation before his face
turned to crackling within Sauron's fiery embrace.

ATTENTION

Two of you have not reached the minimum of 200 words needed to compete in the competition. There for i decided to continue the voting process but the winner will not receive any points.

[SonOfAlexander]

Even though I shouldn't I had to go for the sheer ingenuity of the haiku. Oh, wait... of course people didn't, cos of the minimum word limit God I'm thick. Ah well, was a good haiku anyway.

[Juvenal]

I liked Legio's tale, it has world-weariness and gives a good sense of place without sounding like more propaganda from out of the Sagas.

Of course mine was funnier.

[molls]

Yah Juvi your laughter will cease when I take over the hosting from TotW 60 on. In other words: I'll be back! ...soon.

[Juvenal]

Yah Juvi your laughter will cease when I take over the hosting from TotW 60 on. In other words: I'll be back! ...soon.

Ha! You think I'm laughing now?

Nil Points.