Author : Cemendur Telcontar
Original Thread : [FATW AAR] Light of the West
Light of the West
Chapter 9: The Battle of Durthang

While Cemendur and his army swept through Nurn, a rallying of troops occured in cities from Minas Ithil to invade Udun, the northernmost part of Mordor. In about two months around 900 men were rallied to action and began the trek north through Gorgoroth. The leader of the expedition was a Captain Telemundar, a veteran soldier who had served previously with King Cemendur in Ithilien. He was a grim man, but a good strategist and an excellent soldier.
For a week the army marched through Mordor without any sign of threat. Then they reached the Carach Angren, the gap through the mountains that led into Udun. The whole day the sky was dark and cloudy, and now it did not help that it was approaching night. The men wanted to stop and make camp before the Carach Angren, for the pass was intimidating, with the ruins of the olden days of Mordor streaking it's slopes. But Telemundar would not stop.
"We must make camp on the slopes inside the mountain range. We will be surrounded and overrun if we do not." Which was the truth. But still a good percentage of the men were still nervous. They were not all veteran soldiers like Telemundar, although they were well-trained soldiers.
The army encamped on a ledge that overlooked Udun and set up a guard. Several hours passed by without any problems. Telemundar sat down on a rock beside his tent and looked out over Udun. Although it was not a pleasing sight he felt more relaxed. Then he heard a sound that made his blood run cold. In the distance there was the sound of drums, cruel, biting drums. Torches flickered in the distance.

Telemundar ran across the camp, yelling at the top of his lungs, "Orcs!!!! Rally men, the orcs are coming!!!" A great tumult swept the camp as the men prepared for battle. Several scouts rode out to get a good idea of the enemy. What they found was far from comforting. More than 4000 orcs, uruks, and wargs were heading towards the Reunited Kingdom army. But they were split into two armies; one of uruks and one of orcs. "This is gonna be one helluva fight boys!" Telemundar remarked to his soldiers. Very few of them shared in his humour. Telemundar turned to the archers and told them to light their arrows. It wasn't that orcs were afraid of fire. They were afraid of it coming right at them. The Reunited Kingdom Longbowmen opened fire on the closest army, the uruk one, that was quickly advancing towards them. The arrows fell amongst the enemy, setting many aflame.

The army stood their ground, with the archers firing over the heads of their own troops. The Uruks kept climbing up the slopes, showing no sign of slowing down. A division of Uruks began climbing up the mountain, seeking to flank the army, while the rest of the Uruks drew closer the the Reunited Kingdom army.
"Hold men, hold!!" Telemundar shouted to his men. Then the Uruks charged at the main line. Suprisingly, after a few minutes of fighting, they broke ranks and began to rout. But Telemundar did not allow his men to pursue. Whihc was a smart move, for they quickly regrouped and renewed the attack. Meanwhile the flanking force of Uruks were still climbing up the mountain. Now Telemundar did a brave and daring thing. He ordered his unit of cavalry to charge straight into the flanks of the climbing enemy.

The plan worked. The enemy started to rout, one after the other. The light cavalry rounted the lighter uruk units. They continued the charge and attacked the archers that were peppering the troops. Then the wargs appeared. Huge lumbering beasts they were, fangs the size of a hand, eyes that shone like a madman's. The ligher horses began to run in a frenzy. Telemundar watched from higher up and saw the wargs charge and tear apart the horses, who began to flee. Telemundar knew he must save them. He ordered a full charge into the wargs.

A fierce fight ensued, in which the wargs had the upper hand. Telemundar slew one warg, when another jumped and knocked him from his horse, but was save just in time by one of his men. He quickly remounted and ordered the spearmen to attack.

The charge from the spears pushed the wargs back, but they still continued to fight. Meanwhile the battle raged on. After a long while of fighting the Uruks started to break. Finally the enemy captain, who rode with the wargs, was hunted down by the spears and cut down. At this time the orc army had arrived, and so the exhausted troops had another battle to fight. However this one was not as long as the one with the uruks. The weaker orc troops collapsed after several minutes of fighting. But the wargs did not give up easily, nopt even when completely surrounded by the Reunited Kingdom's army. They hacked, slashed, bit, and clawed until they were destroyed.

When the fighting was done, about 1/3 of the Reunited Kingdom's army had suffered casualties, many from the wargs alone. Telemundar looked at his many, most of which were overexhausted with fighting. But he knew if they did not pursue the fleeing orcs, more would be produced.
"Men," he spoke in a loud clear voice, "we have won a great victory, but if we do not pursue these orcs to Durthang itself, more will be produced in only a short amount of time, and they will overwhelm us. However, I will not force you all to follow me. All I ask for are volunteers to join me to finish this orc infestation. Any soldier who is not hurt and has a strong will must join me. Not only for your sakes but for that of Middle-earth." Suprisingly, many men volunteered. All in all, more that 200 men joined Telemundar, and they set out at once with what remained of the horses, while the others that stayed behind tended to the wounded. Telemundar and his loyal men pursued the orcs for many leagues, and finally, in several days, they had reached the black city of Durthang, Citadel of the Orcs.

Chapter 10: The Fall of Shadow I

Two days had passed since the battle of Durthang. The remaining orcs, it turned out, had absolutely no idea where they were going. Many Telemundar and his remaining men killed along the way, but still no sign of the city of Durthang. It appeared the orcs led them purposely away from the city. However, on the second day Telemundar and his men aquired unlooked for help: Blackland Mercenaries. Men of Andunbar they seemed, grim, but not evil or consumed by darkness. Armed in black, they terrified the weaker soldiers in Telemundar's small force. Their leader, a warrior named Ministar, spoke to Telemundar.
"We killed the remaining orcs. None will report to Durthang." he said.
"That is well, but my men and I seek to take Durthang. Can you take us to there?" Telemundar spoke in return.
"Indeed I will. In fact my men and I will join you." Ministar responded. Such help Telemundar did not expect. For several hours they marched, until they were below Durthang. The black spires blended in with the black mountains beside them, seemingly carved straight from the mountain. however before they could climb, they saw shapes climb down on either side of them. Horns rang in challenge.
"Orcs!" the men screamed.
"They are no orcs," Telemundar spoke, "See! They are armed in gear of Andunbar. They are men. Prepare for battle!"
Indeed they were men, a final attempt to protect Durthang and the Shadow it held. However it was a small force, equal to that of Telemundar's. At the head of the enemy armies was Tarcil, a famed Andunbar captain, whose heart was as dark as the city he resided in.
The battle began. The Longbowmen fired arrows into the closest army, killing many men.

When the enemy was weakened enough, the swordsmen charged. After several brief minutes most the enemy was dead or routing. It came as no suprise; the enemy was mostly militia soldiers.

Now Telemundar's army turned towards the other enemy force, Tarcil's. However he fared just as worse, with only a handful of horsemen and a unit of swordsmen, although they were all well trained. The swordsmen soon crashed into each other, and a hard battle was waged. Meanwhile, Tarcil charged into Telemundar's own guard of swordsmen.

Thrice he charged, thrice Telemundar and his guards turned them away. Then Telemundar ordered his men to charge. Menawhile the enemy swordsmen had been defeated, and Tarcil was completely surrounded. He then ordered his men to retreat.
"Why do you flee, coward? Stand up for your heresies and fight!" Telemundar shouted to Tarcil. At this Tarcil turned and spoke:
"You may win today, lieutenant, but you will never fully defeat the da-" His words were cut short. Tarcil fell, pierced with seven arrows. His horse fled wildly until it was shot with arrows.
Telemundar and his men continuted up the mountain and entered Durthang. The few remaining defenders threw away their arms and pledged loyalty to the Reunited Kingdom. The horrid orc pits were thrown down, and the city was cleansed. When Telemundar's deeds reached the ears of Minas Tirith, Telemundar was promoted general and given a new name, Siriondil, after the famed river in the early ages of the world. Thus ended the tale of Durthang, and another blow to the forces of darkness.

Alright that's all I got for now, and yes I know these pictures aren't fine tuned for this installment. I'm debating whether to just add more to this or start a new chapter. Anyway enjoy for now!

Chapter 11: One Last March

Midday. The sun was high in the sky, overlooking the vast plains of Nurn. For miles it seemed it stretched on endlessly. To the north, the black Mountains of the Ered Lithui stretched, the northern boundary of Nurn. The Sea of Nurnen glistened in the south, miles away. Cemendur had allowed his men to rest at this point. They had marched since morning. Cemendur examined the land around him. The city of Lond Nurnen, his destination, was a speck in the distance. They still had some ways to go. Cemendur sat down on a rock and thought. The final hurdle, he thought. He looked at his army. He had a unit of cavalry, a unit of swordsmen, a unit of men-at-arms, and a unit of Elves, whom he always brought with him. His forces were less than in previous battles. He left a sizeable garrison at the last city, since it was heavily under the control of the Shadow Cult, and the rebellious citizens must be put down. He still had enough men to make an impressive showing. Suddenly another object caught his attention. A moving mass, coming from the direction of Lond Nurnen. An army was approaching. "Rally men! Battle approaches!"

The enemy numbered in about the same number as his men, but of less quality. The battle would not be a heavy one. He lined up his men to attack, the elves raining arrows upon the approaching army.

He then ordered his infantry foward to deal with the main lines, while his bodyguard and his contingent of calvalry marched around the enemy lines.

The enemy surged in mass towards the attacking soldiers. A semicircle was formed due to the press of foes, pushing back the Reunited Kingdom soldiers. But this was what Cemendur wanted. He lined his cavalry up, and ordered a charge that broke the back of the enemy army, along with the backs of many of its men.

Cemendur observed the quickness of his victory. Surely this was not all they had left?
"Do you think this is all that remains?" Cemendur inquired to his friend, the elven commander Finrod.
"It could be, but I am not sure. These lands are a considerable distance away from the former main areas of Andunbar. But we do know that a large army, possibly two, were sent to take the plains of Nurn, and to defend against Rhun. But we have faced many men, through small skirmishes and large battles. What we faced may be all that remains of a withering kingdom." Finrod responded.
"That may be true. Rhun and Andunbar signed an alliance years ago. As far as we know they have not broken it, and thusly would not need a strong garrison on the frontier, save for fear of Rhun's betrayal." Cemendur said. He turned away, prepared to lead the army onward, since it was not much further to Lond Nurnen. But he felt a pang of dissapointment. Although the easier Andunbar fell, the better, he still hoped for one last battle, one last engagement to shake the very bones of the earth. He hadn't fought a battle like that since Ithilien, many years ago, when he started the war against Andunbar. But his hope had faded, if not a little, for a chance to fight a battle like that. He then ordered his men back into line, and marched them foward.

Throughout the day and into the night they marched. The stars shone brightly in the sky. A chill wind had set in, cold for the spring season. These reminded him of that night, many years ago, when he first dealt with the betrayal of his brother, and the civil war that threatened to break the peace they had enjoyed for more than a century. And even further back to the day that it all began, the day the shadow completely took his brother...

Chapter 12: The Day the West Failed

It was the year 237 of the Fourth Age, the season of summer. It was a warm, bright day in the city of Minas Tirith, cloudless, save several lingering in the east, but all in all a perfect day, made even more perfect by the celebration that would occur in the city, for the king, Aldarion, had chosen to step down as king and give the office of King to one of his sons. Custom dictated that it would be the oldest son to recieve the Crown, Sceptre, and Sword and assume position as King of the Reunited Kingdom. This son would be Cemendur. However, there was a rumor that the younger son, Amandil, would recieve the title of king. The contrast between Cemendur and Amandil was compared to that of two famed brothers from the Third Age, Boromir and Faramir, famed captains of the former kingdom of Gondor. Cemendur was to Faramir as Amandil was to Boromir, except that Cemendur, unlike Faramir, was the oldest. Cemendur was wise, a friend of the elves, well learned, overall an excellent thinker. Amandil was brave, strong, a fierce fighter, who inspired loyalty in all those in the Kingdom. He was well liked and more public than Cemendur, who was not often seen. However Cemendur deserved and recieved much respect, due to the wise judgements he had made in his life, such as laws, judgements in courts, etc. He also was an excellent swordsman, trained personally by the elves. However their form of fighting differed from the brute Gondorian style that Amandil reveled in. Amandil lacked the sense of his brother, as he was rash, quick to act, and quick to anger, which was not helped by his new advisor, a wise, yet strange man from the east, named Herumor. Many feared this man, and thought he was corrupting Amandil. However many people did not see this, and they hailed Amandil as a hero, held in higher esteem than Cemendur. Now the day had come where the old king, Amandil, must choose which son to take the throne. Outside the gates of Minas Tirith the entire city and army assembled, to announce who would be king, due to the many rumors. They would then ascend to the Citadel of the city, where the actual crowning would take place. There was excited talking, quieted when the king began to speak.
"My People!" he said in a loud voice, "Today I crown the succesor to the throne of the Reunited Kingdom!" Shouts and applause from the people echoed out. "Here I will announce who will take my place. I will follow in tradition of the old Kingdom of Gondor and announce my oldest son Cemendur as King!" Cheers erupted from the crowd, however some did not cheer, including Antanamir. Just as they prepared to re-enter the city, he cried out:
"Father you're making the wrong choice!" Many in the crowd were shocked, but some nodded in agreement, others looked uncomfortable.
"My son, you embarass me and your people. I chose Cemendur because he is the oldest, and wise beyond his years. He will lead our people well." Aldarion
"Will he? He may be wise, but he is slow to act. He is too passive to be king. He cannot lead aggresively when the time comes. I am a greater warrior than he will ever hope to be, and-"
"Silence! Our father has made a choice, a choice we must respect. He has simply followed the customs of our people and chosen out of his own-" Cemendur began to say, but was cut short by a retort from Amandil.
"Our people? You mean the words of men long dead thousands of years ago, those of a kingdom long gone?"
"That Kingdom was Gondor, one of which we are descended."
"Gondor is gone. This is a new time. A time in which we should rule, but not. We have been too soft on those around us. We should rule the entire earth, from where the sun rises to where it sets. We should be greater than the Numenorians themselves! We have the power!" Amandil shouted, and people in the crowd agreed to his words, and began to crowd around him.
"My son, what has happened to you? These rash words, they are not yours. They are those of some greater evil. Reject that my son, come to your senses!" his father Aldarion pleaded.
"His senses are correct, those that aren't are yours." A cold voice filled the air, one full of malice and evil. Foward strode Herumor, Amandil's advisor. All stood transfixed upon the cloaked man, whose face no one ever saw.
"How dare you question my judgement! I was a fool to let you even near him!" Aldarion yelled in dismay.
"I believe that is Antanamir's choice to decide who is right," whispered the cloaked figure, in an evil voice, "and I believe he's chosen me. The people also have seem to chosen." This was true, as more people seemed to agree with the side of Antanamir.
"Brother, look at what you are doing! You are tearing our people apart, over a decision you knew you had no control over! I beg you, stop this!" Cemendur pleaded, but to no avail.
"The only way this can stop is if I become King, and since I see no motion to that extent, it must happen." Antanamir turned as if to leave, but sprang back, sword drawn, ready to strike his brother. But Cemendur anticipated this, and drew his own sword. Cries arose from the crowd, and all stood shocked as the two brothers fought. Finally, Antanamir, in his fury, finally knocked down his brother, and aimed to kill. But Aldarion, their father, lept in between.
"I will not let you kill your brother Antanamir, do not take your father also." Aldarion pleaded. Antanamir paused, and withdrew his sword. He spoke directly to his father:
"This proves father, that I am the stronger brother, that I deserved to be king."
"No," Aldarion responded, "it only proves that you have descended into madness." Antanamir turned away, and spoke to the crowd: "All those who feel I am the rightful king, join me in the new kingdom that I name Andunbar in the East! There we will restore and surpass the glory of Numenor!" And to the shock of Aldarion and Cemendur many followed, including a large contingent of soldiers.
"Soldiers stop the traitors!" Cemendur screamed. The remaining loyal soldiers then sprang and attacked the traitors. The civilians screamed as some were slain. Then Aldarion sprang to his feet and yelled in such a voice that all around him stood and trembled: "STOP THIS MADNESS!" The fighting ceased, and the civilians retreated to their respective sides. He turned to Antanamir, and spoke:
"Antanamir, my son, I let you go where you will, and I hope you will shake off this madness. I want no more killing, and I do not wish to see both my sons die on this day. But please, my son, think about what you are doing." Antanamir looked stoicly at his father.
"I'm afraid it is too late father. You made your choice, and I made mine. I offer you to join me, but I know you will refuse. You will realize someday, and I will forgive you." Amandil said. Cemendur looked with wrath at his brother, but Aldarion looked lost. All he worked for was shattered before his eyes. The upsurpers were allowed to take their belongings and leave. Soon after reports of full rebellion were recieved. But at that moment, Cemendur looked with dismay at all that was happening. His entire life had changed. He now must redeem him self, redeem his kingdom, and redeem his family, even if it meant killing his brother.

Shortly after that day reports of total rebellion came in. The western portions of the Kingdom remained loyal, and the revolts were quickly put down. But in the east across the Anduin total rebellion occured. Those loyal to Cemendur were either killed or fled. The elves fled Ithilen after putting up a fight, but as they were too few in number they fled to Osgiliath, where it was besieged. Barahir the Old, the Steward at the time, fled with the elves and bravely held Osgiliath against the attackers, aided by the rangers and the units under his command.

But this was how it all started, how his brother fell to Shadow, how the Civil War began, the Second Kinstrife. The events from that day on passed his mind: his final talk with his father, the marshalling, Ithilen, Minas Ithil, Mordor, to now, in Nurn. He thought of his father, Aldarion, again and wept, for he had died several months ago. He remembered his promise to his father, that he would not let the Light, the cherished memory of Numenor, the legendary flame of Anor, fail. "And I intend to keep that promise." Cemendur told himself. He got up and went toward his tent, hoping for a restless night. But he knew that he wouldn't get it, for tommorow he knew, no matter what his advisors told him, would be a struggle and a battle, one to end all battles...

Chapter 13: The Fall of Shadow II

The sun had risen in the eastern sky, outlining the city in front of the Reunited Kingdom army. They had arrived the previous evening, and preparations for the siege had begun that night. Cemendur planned to wait several more days to begin the actual assault, although his captains clamoured for battle.
"My Lord, we are certain that there are very few Andunbar troops in the city. Begin the siege now and crush this darkness that has plagued us for years!" one of his generals, Aradan, remarked.
"You speak rash words, my friend. Nothing is ever certain." Cemendur replied. "I sent spies to infiltrate the settlement before our last march. When they return, we will see how certain you are." Cemendur then turned away, leaving his general baffled.
"Nothing is certain. I guess there's some truth in that, but I still believe he's been marching too long in the sun." Aradan said to himself, then walked away also.
The building of the siege weapons had begun. Two rams were to be built to bring down the walls of the city. As the soldiers worked, they saw two horsemen approach. They were Cemendur's spies. Those that saw them wondered why they looked uneasy, looking doubtfully at the soldiers. Cemendur, seeing this, approached them.
"Welcome back men. What have you discovered?" he said. It took several moments for them to speak. Finally, one stepped foward.
"My lord, there are over 2000 Andunbar troops in the city." All those who heard him were dumbstruck. Aradan most of all, for he reckoned that fewer than 300 were in the city. Cemendur nodded gravely at this. "That is not all, my lord." the spy then said. All eyes and ears turned to him. "Several days before you arrived, an army came out from the east. They entered the city to rejoicing crowds. My lord, Rhun has joined them." At this many stared in disbelief, more baffled than before. "Howm any?"Cemendur quickly asked.
"My guess was 1500." the spy responded. Cemendur then dismissed the spy and went to his tent to meet with his generals.
Throughout the Reunited Kingdom encampment the news spread. Many, before so confident of victory, now thought retreat would be their only option. Even thoguh they were all veterans, unless their king devised a brilliant strategy, they would only die brave, but futile, deaths. While the soldiers dispaired, Cemendur sought to formulate a plan.
"You were right my lord, nothing is certain. Except that we have an excellent chance of dying if we continue this assault!" Aradan exclaimed.
"That still isn't certain. We can still achieve victory."
"How? They outnumber us 6 to 1, even though our troops are the finest in the land. Should we risk them so rashly? We should retreat, gather our strength, then come back in greater numbers. That I would do if I were Cemendur." Aradan said. "So would I," Cemendur replied, "if I were Aradan." Aradan fell quiet at these words. "I did not come all this way to retreat now. If we leave, Andunbar will have another chance to rise again. Darkness would reemerge, because we did not stand our ground and fight them until they fell! Even if we were to retreat, do you believe they will wait for us to leave before they attack? No. The moment we leave, enemy troops will surround us. Would you rather fight them in the field, where they have every opportunity to flank us and crush us utterly? Would you rather wait in our cities while the armies of Rhun, Harad, and Andunbar crush all that we have gained, and have all our sacrafices be in vain? Or would you rather fight them here, where they can't flank, where they must wait for our move. And here, our moves will be more decisive. Here, we can end the menace that has threatened us for years, indeed, for centuries and millenia before our time! Here, we drive them over the edge and into the abyss that awaits them and their darkness. It is here that the forces of light will triumph. It is here that the sun in the east will herald a new day, the day of the fall of shadow!" Cemendur in such a voice that it seemed all the men around him were in awe of the hidden power their king had. Cemendur had utterly convinced his generals to fight. They spent that night creating a strategy that would allow their small number of men to crush the enemy.

Two days later, the assault began. All the preparations had been made. The siege engines were ready, and the assault was to begin that morning. Cemendur observed his men. They were grim faced, attempting to hid emotion, marks of veteran soldiers. But their eyes betrayed them. Their eyes were filled with tinges of fear, but beneath was a gleam of hope. Cemendur knew he must bring this hope out of his men. He mounted his horse and strode to the front lines and spoke to his men.
"Sons of Numenor, lend me your ears!" he shouted, gaining the attention of the entire army. "I see in your eyes, the same fear that any man facing such odds would feel, myself included. But I see also the hope of a new day, a day in which we need not fight such evils, and we could return to peace in our homes. Men, I cannot promise you this victory will bring this peace, for I doubt it will. However, I can promise you this: this victory will bring us another large step closer. For we today face the final force of Andunbar, the final hurdle before ending this civil war that has divided our people for seven years! Today men, the forces of the shadow will face the forces of the light. Has not time proven that shadow is a passing thing? Darkness must pass someday. And a new day will come, and the sun will shine brighter than it ever has. We have hope of this men, and that is our greatest strength. That is why we fight men. In our hearts is a power that can overcome any shadow." Cemendur paused and spoke again. "There's some good left in this world, and it's worth fighting for." he said, remembering the words of a friend years before. "And if you men think differently, I will not stop you. You are free to leave." No man moved. A shout emerged from the crowd: "No my lord we will fight!" followed by the shouts of the entire army. Over this roar Cemendur cried, "Then I bid you, stand, Men of the West!" A greater roar, followed by the sounding of the trumpets. The battering rams rolled foward, and the assault began, and behind their walls, the Andunbar and Rhun forces quaked in their armor.

The rams had reached the gate. No arrow or spear flew out to meet them. But that did not stop the elves. Finrod moved his men into position. "Open fire!" he yelled. A volly of arrows flew down amongst the enemy soldiers, killing many. And all the while the battering rams pounded the walls, the elves unleashed devestating vollies against the defenders.

The rams continued pounding, the cracking of the walls heard throughout the city. Finally, the gate fell with a resounding crash. When the ram was pulled away, the Reunited Kingdom soldiers saw what the scouts described. Thousands of enemy soldiers, standing ready to kill. But this did not deter them. Though they numbered only 100, Cemendur's words still coursed through their veins like fire, and were not afraid to fight, for this was their time. Aradan, who led the forces at the gate, yelled: "Foward men! Foward to victory! For Cemendur! For the Reunited Kingdom! For Hope!" He unsheathed his sword, and charged into the heart of the defenders of the gates, while his men followed. They fought with such a force that many fell before them, shocked at how hard 100 men could fight.

Meanwhile the wall to the left of the gate fell to the ram, and more troops flowed into the citycharging into the masses of foes that faced them. Then they noticed the main street of the city. Thousands more troops were flowing out to fight. Among those wer the Andunbar elite troops, the Shadow Warriors. These were Andunbar's greatest soldiers, their most evil men, and now they fought hand to hand with the Reunited Kingdom's best. The men at the gate were holding up, for the resistence there was weaker, consisting of Rhun spearmen and Andunbar King's Spearmen. The forces on the left, though holding up heroicly, were starting to lose the ground they initially gained. But they did not give up hope, and fought all the harder.

Scouts reported back to Cemendur the situation of the battle. "The left flank will fall if reinforcements are not sent." Finrod, the elven commander, said. "I am willing to lead my troops into battle to reinforce the left flank." "Not yet my friend." Cemendur replied. "Keep firing arrows until you and your men run out. Then charge. But we need a better way to drive them back. If the resistence at the gate were to be crushed, the forces there could drive into the flanks of the attackers on the left. But how to do that?" Cemendur thought hard of a plan. Then an idea dawned on him. So simple, yet so ingenius. He ordered the Gondorian Swordsmen to pick up the ram at the gate and wheel it around to the right wall and batter it down.

After giving orders, Cemendur turned to Finrod. "It turns out I will get my chance to fight again." Finrod looked at the king, amazed. "Cemendur, that is a risky decision." "I know, but it is the only way. If the enemy see me charge into them, they will lose hope completely and run. Then, we can proceed to the square and finish them off." Cemendur replied. "Yes, that is possible. May the Valar protect you, my friend. Once all our arrows are spent, my elves will charge to help hold the left flank, until you can execute your plan." Finrod said, approvingly. Cemendur nodded at his friend. "Thank you, my friend." He then set off, with his guards behind him. After loosing every arrow, Finrod gathered his elves together. He then spoke to his men. "My brothers, this was not our war. Our time is almost gone. But we still are part of this world, and we must attempt to do what we can until our time to leave comes. Now my elven brothers, we fight!" At this he blew a horn, with a clear sound that reminded one of the forest, which caused several soldiers to pause and listen. Then, the elves charged.

Meanwhile, on the right, the battering ram pounded down the wall. Cemendur entered the city and lined up his soldiers. Those that manned the ram he ordered to charge into the defenders of the gate. He held back his cavalry, until the right moment. "Long ago, at the battle of Pelennor fields, the king of Rohan spoke these words to his men. I will now say them to you now." he said to his men. He then yelled at the top of his voice, "Ride men! Ride to ruin, and the world's ending!" His herald then blew a horn, and the cavalry of the Reunited Kingdom charged into the enemy, causing them to rout almost instantaneously.

Cemendur and his men did not stop there. They continued into the mass of men on the left flank. So fierce did they look. The light of the sun was caught on their armor, causing them to appear as if they were clothed in fire. No man could withstand their assault. The entire left flank routed.

Only one unit withstood Cemendur's assault. They were the Shadow Warriors, whose hearts were so blackened, that they could barely be called men. When Cemendur saw them, he stopped, and memories filled his head. He remembered the telling of his son's death, and who killed him. The memory flowed through his head:
Then the door burst open, and out from it were heavily armed soldiers, of the likes I have never seen. They were dressed in silver mail, and had Silver helmets, which covered their faces completely, except their eyes. They had purple capes, cruel looking swords, and black shields. They seemed to be a gaping void of darkness, darker than an evil man's heart.
These were the same men, his son's murderers. With a yell of fury he charged into the shadow warriors, killing as many as he could, before they too fled, shocked at how powerful this man was.

Cemendur continued his path of destruction, striking down any enemy soldier that stood in his way. Additional units were sent from the city square to attempt to halt the advance of the Reunited Kingdom, but upon seeing Cemendur in his wrath, they too fled. Soon the Reunited Kingdom troops approached the city square. There the remaining enemy troops were marshalled. Although a majority of the enemy's forces were depleted, the Reunited Kingdom troops were still twice outnumbered. Cemendur ordered his men to halt and lined them up. He looked upon the enemy. The remaining forces on both sides remained immobile for a short while, but to Cemendur it was an eternity. He looked into the eyes of his enemies. In some, he saw fear, innocence, and regret. These were the soldiers that were young men, lured into service by honeyed words and false promises. For a moment, the flames of fury were quelled in Cemendur's heart, and felt pity towards these men. He looked at the path he came from and saw the bodies litter the street. He wondered about the men he killed there, whether they were truly men of shadow, and he began to feel regret. But then he saw in the eyes of many hatred and death, true shadow brewing. He saw the division between men, and he realized how much harder this war was, for these were once his people. They were not countless legions of mindless servants of darkness, but men who once were his kinsfolk. I must accomplish my task, Cemendur thought. It is an evil, the killing of men, but I must. If there was any other way, I would take it. He then looked upon those filled with hate, and realized why he fought. He looked around him. Finrod, the elven commander, was on his left. Aradan, his top general, was on his right. He then looked foward and gave a shout, followed by horn blasts. Cemendur led the charge, and crashed into his enemies. The sun was beginning to set, for the fighting had gone on the entire day, and it cast a flaming light upon the soldiers, so it seemd that an army of Maiar were fighting on a very field of flame.

The enemy king, Araphor, had waited in the square the entire battle, under the orders of Herumor the Black. At this point, Herumor was the true ruler, while Araphor was simply a figurehead. Araphor was a warrior, not a ruler, which gave Herumor absolute control over him. However, at this point Herumor knew that the end was approaching of his plan to rule Middle-earth. He could escape easily, but all he would be able to do was to incite small conflicts with Rhun and Harad. He would never have the opportunity he had ever again. Herumor watched from his tower in the city palace, and saw his final defeat approaching. He knew he must escape soon, but before he did, he had one final score to settle...

Cemendur and his men had cut through many enemy soldiers, but still more remained. He then caught sight of the Andunbar king, Araphor. With a yell, he and his cavalry sped towards him. Araphor in turn charged. Cemendur and Araphor engaged in hand to hand combat. Araphor hacked and slashed with all his might, but Cemendur was quicker, eventually parrying Araphor's sword out from his hand and slicing his neck. After seeing this, many remaing Andunbar and Rhun troops began to waver, when suddenly black clouds filled the sky. A lightning bolt split the two sides, throwing men backwards and creating a gap in the middle. Another bolt, and from it emerged Herumor, cloaked in black, surrounded by a black shadow. He drew a blade. Long it was, and seemingly ancient, but it held a green aura around it. None around knew, but this was a blade wielded by the Nazgul lone ago. Herumor stepped foward.
"Cemendur, your hour has come. Face me now and prove your worth!" he challenged. Cemendur dismounted and drew his sword. Aradan ran foward to Cemendur. "No my lord! You need not face him. We have victory! Do not throw it away so rashly." Cemendur turned towards him. "No. We will have no victory until Herumor is defeated. He is the source of the evil that plagued our land. With him gone, we will have victory." He then strode foward to meet his foe.For a moment they stared: one filled with darkness, the other with light. Then the duel began. The swords clashed, as both sides watched. The Reunited Kingdom soldiers were amazed at how agile their king was. The fight dragged on, with neither combatant gaining an advantage. Then Herumor drew off. Cemendur charged towards him, but a crack rent the air, and both Herumor and Cemendur disapeared, leaving the astounded troops behind.

Cemdnur felt cold stone, and struggled to his feet. He was facing west, for the sun was setting. He was on the highest tower on the city palace. He turned around, and saw a figure in black, meancing.
"I waited years," the figure said, "years to execute my revenge of the men of Numenor. I had that chance, I had the opportunity. But something went wrong. No, nothing went wrong. I underestimated your strength. I underestimated how powerful you were, how well you could lead. Well thanks to you, my plans are ruined. Everything I strived to do, you foiled. Even after I ordered your son's death, you still fought back. Well now I see my mistake. I should have targeted you directly. But now my plans are destroyed. But I will return, and plague your decendents. At least I can take consolation in your death." Herumor then turned around and attacked. Cemendur jumped back and dodged the attack. The setting sun caught their swords in their glow, and the troops in the square heard the sounds of battle, and saw two brands of fire dueling, one orange, one green. Upon seeing this, Aradan worried for the sake of his king. He turned to Finrod, but he was not there.

Upon the tower, the fight commenced. However, as Cemendur grew weaker as the fight drew on, it seemed Herumor gained more strength. Cemendur stumbled, and Herumor aimed for a finishing blow. Cemendur ducked, narrowly avoiding it. But as Herumor swung his sword around, on the backswing it pierced Cemendur's shoulder. A piercing pain went through his arm, a stinging, burning pain. He fell to the floor, unable to get up due to the pain.
"Poisoned blade. I could leave you to die here, but I don't want to take that risk." He raised his blade, prepared to deliver the finishing blow, when a yell from behind caused him to turn around.

When Aradan saw Finrod was gone, he had an idea of where he went. It was the same destination he sought to go to. He rushed towards the palace. Several Andunbar troops sought to block his way, but he cut them down. This renewed the fighting between the two armies, but he did not care. He ran up the steps, and along the way he saw the slain guards. Finrod was here before him. When he reached the top, he saw Finrod, preparing to strike. He also saw Herumor raising his sword, preparing to strike down his king. "NO!!!!" yelled Aradan, and rushed foward. "Aradan, no!" Finrod yelled. But it was too late.

Herumor turned and saw the charging man. With a swing of his arm, he knocked him off his feet. Aradan slid to the edge of the tower, and hung on for dear life. Finrod saw this, and rushed to help up the general. Herumor blocked off Finrod's path. "Three of the most powerful men in my enemy's army, and I can kill them all right now." He raised his sword, but it then fell, along with his head. Behind him, Cemendur had struggled to his feet, drew Anduril, and swung with all his might, decapitating his foe. Herumor's body fell, and above it a black shadow grew, menacing, but faded away in the blowing wind. Below the sounds of battle had stopped. After seeing their leaders fallen, the Andunbar and Rhun troops had surrendered, save those fully corrupted by the shadow. But they were easily defeated. On the tower, Finrod and Aradan rushed the Cemendur's aid, for he had fallen again. He clutched his shoulder, breathing hard. Aradan then spoke in a trembling voice. "My lord, we have won. You have defeated the shadow." Cemendur smiled. "We defeated it, my friend. Thank you." He then turned to Finrod. "Thank you, my friend, for everything you have done. Without you, I would not have gotten as far as I did. And look, we have won. Thank you, for everything." Finrod's face was filled with sorrow. "Thank you, my friend. I will get you some aid, just hold on." He then quickly left. Cemendur looked West, and saw the setting sun. Thoughts flashed through his head, none he could comprehend. Aradan stood weeping. Cemendur then turned towards Aradan, and simply said: "We won." Then, as the sun set in the West, he closed his eyes.

End of Part II
Epilogue
The night’s vigil had ended, the night was fading, and many of the mourners had left the Rath Dinen. Only Aradan remained outside the King’s tomb, still mourning the loss of his mentor and friendly Had it been that long since Minas Ithil? That day changed his life. From then on he had a purpose, a goal, and a figure to look up to. Now that figure was gone, dead, just when his dream had been fulfilled…
Earlier that day, Cemendur’s second son and heir, Ondoher, had been crowned the new King of the Reunited Kingdom, and had appointed Aradan Grand General of the Armies of the Reunited Kingdom, in recognition of his achievements and outstanding devotion to the King and Kingdom. But despite this, Aradan felt hollow inside, confused, lost. As he stood there musing, a figure emerged from the disappearing darkness. Aradan reached for his sword, startled, but quickly withdrew as he realized the figure’s identity. “Finrod,” he said, “you startled me.” The elf smiled. “No need to worry my friend.” he said, as he approached the tomb. He stood there, solemnly, then addressed Aradan: “He was a great man, one of the finest I’ve ever met. He restored my faith in the future of men.” Aradan nodded somberly, still staring at the tomb. He then turned towards Finrod. “So have you made your decision?” he asked. Finrod thought for a moment. “Not yet. While my task was to assist Cemendur, I still feel I and my elves are needed on this Middle-earth.” Aradan looked puzzled, “Howso? The Shadow has been turned back…” “For now. The Shadow can never be fully turned back, for where there is good, there will always be evil, trying to corrupt it. Likewise, where there is evil, there is always good, fighting to overcome it. I still sense the darkness in some men’s souls. And also,” he turned an eye towards Aradan, “I still sense you have a task to fulfill, one that I feel I must, nay, I want to assist you in.” Aradan looked back towards the tomb, still puzzled. Finrod continued, “You know what I speak of. The Haradrim to the south and Rhun to the east. They actively assisted Andunbar in its campaign to destroy the Reunited Kingdom. They will surely seek to continue that goal, in greater force.” Aradan turned toward Findrod, angered. “How can I stop them? I’m no great warrior or king. I fought so well because I fought for Cemdnur. Now he’s gone. I can’t do this alone.” He slumped down on the wall of the tomb. Finrod grabbed his hand and helped him up. “No, you can’t. Which is why I will stay in Middle-earth, if only for a little while longer. You have a greatness in you, a greatness you have shown many times over the course of your battles. Do not despair because you mentor died. He would not want to see you like this.” Aradan rose, regaining his posture. “I will not let Cemendur’s dream come to naught.” He said. Finrod smiled, “No, we will not.” Walking out of the Rath Dinen, they saw the expanse of the fields of Pelennor, running into the lands of Ithilien, to the Vale of Minas Ithil and the mountains surrounding it, above which rose the sun, it’s rays spreading out across all of Middle-earth. Aradan smiled, “The Light will never die.”

The End
Of Book I