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Thread: Dagor Dagorath - The Completed Tale of how Middle-earth came to its end with the re-emergence of Morgoth Bauglir.

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    May 2009

    Default Dagor Dagorath - The Completed Tale of how Middle-earth came to its end with the re-emergence of Morgoth Bauglir.

    Here follows the tale of Dagor Dagorath - The Battle of Battles - The Final Battle - Middle-Earth's Doomsday. It follows the Heroes of Light, sent back from their peaceful afterlife to fight Melkor in order that when the World is remade at the end of the Year 2999 it will be a world of peace and beauty, as opposed to a world of evil and slavery lorded over by Melkor.

    The Prophecy has been written and defines Trin as the Victor but should the Prophecy be proved wrong a world of peace will be exceedingly unlikely.

    This tale is completed but in the future I plan to improve the worst of the chapters.

    Check the map to see how the regions have changed.

    A VERY basic outline of the Silmarillion for the thousands that understandably cannot be bothered to read it:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    1. Eru Ilvatar makes the Timeless Halls and the race of the Ainur.
    2. The Ainur make the Ainulindal, the Music of the Ainur which leads to the vision of Arda. Melkor's attempts to disrupt the Music with ideas of his own devising only serve to cause variations in Eru's themes.
    3. Eru makes E with the Secret Fire at its centre.
    4. Many Ainur enter E.
    So in basic terms Ilvatar is the God of Gods, the Ainur are Gods below Him. They made a "music" but one of the Ainu corrupted it, need I say? He was Melkor, later known as Morgoth. The most powerful Ainur moved into E (the Universe).

    So Bad Guy Melkor wants the world to Himself (what a surprise) and destroys every one of his brothers achievements, all the sources of the light save the final effort: the Sun and Moon (Anor and Ithil).

    The First Age begins with the awakening of the elves who leave Aman (a.k.a The Undying Lands) to go to Middle-Earth (Not the Middle-Earth we LotR Fans know and love but an area, Beleriand, to the North West that is now sunk). During the Elves' voyage east Melkor is captured and imprisoned for 3 ages.

    I will skip the detail now, Dwarves and Ents wake simultaneously (Ents guard the trees from Dwarvern axes). Men awake later. Some Men are quickly corrupted by Melkor.

    Now of the Silmarils:

    Created by Fanor who is later deceived by Melkor who desires these jewels above all else.
    Melkor and Ungoliant (Shelob's Great Mummy) destroy the Two Trees, kill Finw and steal the Silmarils. Fanor and his sons swear an oath to regain the Silmarils and the majority of the Noldor depart from Valinor; Noldor kill many Teleri and seize their ships in the First Kinslaying.

    To skip a long story short: "the Silmarils remained in all three elements — in the sky, earth and water - and would never be recovered except by the reforming of the earth." So the earth needs to reform. Or even better, Sun, Moon, Stars

    Thus follows endless conflict but here i Ctrl+V, Ctrl+C the ending of Melkor:
    532 - Elrond and Elros are born to Erendil and Elwing.
    534 - Erendil begins his great voyages
    538 - Third Kinslaying: while Erendil is away the remaining Sons of Fanor attack the people of the Mouths of Sirion trying to claim the Silmaril. Elwing casts herself with the Jewel in the sea but is brought to Erendil by Ulmo. Of the Sons of Fanor only Maedhros and Maglor now remain.
    540 - Morgoth destroys the dwellings of Fanorians upon Amon Ereb. The last inhabitants of Beleriand flee to the south or to the Isle of Balar. Morgoth's triumph is complete.
    542 - Erendil arrives in Valinor and delivers the errand of the Two Kindreds.
    545 - The Host of the Valar arrives in Beleriand.
    545–587 - The War of Wrath. Morgoth is defeated; the remaining two Silmarils are stolen by Maedhros and Maglor, but are lost in the earth and in the sea; most of Beleriand and the lands to the north are sunk.
    590 - Morgoth is cast into the Void; the Elves are summoned to Valinor and settle in Tol Eressa; a small part of the Noldor and Sindar remain in Lindon or depart east and establish realms.

    Google any strange names you come across, this link supplies a detailed summary:
    Same one I post 100 times

    The following events are not stated by Tolkien, they are my own:

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Here follows a brief summary of the events of the Fourth Age:

    King Aragorn I enlarged the provinces of the Shire in 64 F.A. then finalised the boundaries decreeing that no man was allowed entry to the lands. Aragorn himself obeyed this law.

    Near the end of his reign, King Eldarion I restored the names of the cities of Isildur and Anrion and began the reconstruction of Osgiliath. He never saw its completion as he died two years before. His son Elendil II took up the throne aged 50.

    In 49 F.A. the Dwarf Gimli established a Dwarf Colony in the Glittering Caves of Algarond (The Hornburg during the War of the Ring), 100 years later the Dwarves had expanded deep into the White Mountains discovering more than glittering caves: Mithril. By 110 F.A. the Dwarves uncovered the remains of a settlement which Gimli recognised as being part of the Paths of the Dead. In 200 F.A. the Dwarves ceased mining as they discovered what they only described as “Demons”. Much speculation has surrounded these “Demons” but not even the Dwarves dared to face them.

    In 192 F.A. people began to settle in the lands once known as Mordor (now Seindor, meaning New Land, named so by King Aragorn I upon seeing that Orodruin was dormant and the lands fertile once more). These people were recognised as a new country, subjects to the Reunited Kingdom but heavily watched over for fear of another New Shadow (the first had been a cult in Minas Tirith that threatened the life of the new King, Eldarion. It was destroyed by the Chief Councillor Istion).

    In 67 F.A. the armies of Dale expanded to the Sea of Rhn but were ordered to cease the advance by King Aragorn. Instead they sent aid to the Dwarves who were facing fierce resistance from the Goblins of the Ered Mithrin. By 500 F.A. the Dwarves had taken control of the entire Misty Mountains and Ered Mithrin.

    In 208 F.A. the Rohirrim began the conquest of the “Barbaric” tribes of Dunland. The war took three years.

    Seven years later goblins came in hordes from the lands of Angmar to threaten the peaceful lands of Arnor. A group of Dnedain, led by Istion (the previously mentioned Chief Councillor of Minas Tirith), ally with an army of Arnorians and Dwarves. The war takes ten years and all traces of Angmar were finally obliterated.

    In 1000 F.A. Treebeard the Eldest went on a “pilgrimage” to the trees of Mirkwood, the Ent’s lifelong search for the Entwives was over for Treebeard discovered a large number “making tree-ish the hill of Amon Lanc”. As a result the forest of Fangorn expanded as far east as the Anduin, populated once again by Entings.

    The Elves diminished in number but a few families still kept their home in the halls of King Legolas, the settlement of Imladris and the forest of Lorien. By 300 F.A. the Elves were once more increasing in number, spreading into the south of Eryn Lasgalen.

    For many years there was peace in Middle-Earth but in 1559 F.A. a new tribe of people (later named the Helegwaith) came from the previously thought uninhabitable Forodwaith. They attached the lands of Arnor but were repulsed by the Dnedain. They made a treaty of peace and were inducted into the Reunited Kingdom, settling in the North West of Angmar.

    Peace resumed for another millennium and then things changed: The Dwarves began letting more light into their dwellings, fearing the darkness; the Rohirrim lost control of their horses for a few years but then the steeds returned to their masters; the Hobbits suddenly feared exclusion from the outside world and some migrated to the lands of men. In the Capital of Osgiliath the cult of Melkor arose once more and could not be stopped because there was always another to take up the role of High Priest. But most affected were the Seindorians who, in the spring of the year 2989, vacated their homes and took up residence in Gondor.

    Seindor was empty of life and a year later the King of Gondor, King Ernur, seeing the shadow had returned to the land, declared it be renamed:


    Book I: In the Beginning
    ‘Here, here. It's the dwarves that go swimming with little hairy women.’
    - Gimli
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Chapter I: Prelude to the Darkness

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: Of the Hobbits

    Delgo Baggins woke up. A cold breeze was drifting in through his bedroom window. He moaned a bit, as he always did on a morning then he realised it was midday and so he grumbled some more. Freezing madly climbed out of bed and stumbled over to the window. Strange that it was so icy on a summer’s day.

    An hour later he readied the first of many meals to come and sat down to eat it. An hour later, sampling a pipe full of Longbottom Leaf, he took a stroll down to the Green Dragon where he listened to the typical news of the day: other people’s business.

    ‘...So she said that she ain’t going, so Mister Barlifoot is off to Annminas on his own. Now what would make a wise-minded hobbit do that? Up until a few weeks ago he hated men just like any rational person.’

    ‘That ain’t all,’ old Ted Proudfeet began (the Proudfoot family decided on the pluralisation of the name after one member was born with a birth defect giving him three feet!), ‘you know the Parselburs? They utterly freaked, the young girl said she saw a body in the well, the son saw a great fiery demon, twelve foot high and the father saw, and I quote, “a tall man, all in black he was, with a great helm with many spires and eyes red as fire. And he bore this great tool, a hammer. He weren’t no craftsman, he were a demon like that other thing”. So mark my words fellow Hobbits, this isn’t something in the water. Something bad is coming and I just hope it won’t come here.’

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: Of the Dwarves

    Bofur woke up. A cold breeze was drifting in from somewhere but he ignored it, he could stand the cold. He suddenly realised it was pitch black and so he lit a lamp and hung it where it could illuminate the whole room. His wife stirred and grumbled, ‘What are you doing, dear?’ Bofur murmured that he was doing nothing and that she should get to sleep. Then he realised it was morning because light was filtering in through the ceiling window. Suddenly he wondered why he had lit the lamp, it wasn’t dark at all. Confused, he extinguished the flame and set about his morning routine.

    Two hours later and he was exploring the heart of the Glittering Caves of the White Mountains. It truly was a marvellous spectacle worth preserving in this state for all time, he thought. He heard a tapping sound and turned to face it, he ended up facing a wall of stone. Strange, he pondered over this sound. He was at the far western side of the White Mountain colony and nothing lay beyond that wall.

    Except an ancient myth...

    Tap... tap... tap...

    But it was just a myth...

    Tap... TAP...bang!

    Bofur shouted out but he wasn’t the only one to have heard. Dwarves rushed towards the sound, may bearing arms. And now it was
    louder, deafening...

    Bang, bang, BANG!

    And the entire stone wall exploded and the demons passed into the world once more.

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: Of the Men

    Balion, son of Balatus, woke up. It was cold again and for good reason, night had come to Gondor but sleep did not follow. It was the third time in the past hour that he had woken and now he rose to his feet, careful not to disturb his wife who lay beside him. Pulling on a fresh tunic, he left moved to the balcony from where he looked out over the splendour of the city below him and of the Capital far away. Osgiliath looked silver in the moonlight, a beautiful monument of the reign of King Eldarion I of the House of Telcontar.

    Here in the City of Minas Anor there was silence. No-one moved in the marble streets and- But no, as Balion looked down upon the Fourth Level that lay below his house he saw a party of people murmuring strange words moving upwards. They were robed in black and the leader bore aloft something wrapped in pale rags. Curiosity almost got the better of Balion who moved to the door but then, realising the pointlessness of interfering, he returned to his bed and drove the strange group from his mind.

    Minutes passed but sleep did not bless the Gondorian and so, lying restlessly on his bed, he heard the words of the passing group that had been but a murmur when he saw them below:

    ‘Sha-fli Armauk ob draut hu-na Bot.’ Balion knew not what that meant for such a dark tongue had not been heard since the last New Shadow but he knew it was not a tongue of peace. The Black Speech was famed in its day for being recognised immediately as evil, even to one who could not comprehend it. Balion arose once more from his bed and followed the chant.

    Armed with only a sword, he made his way silently up to the seventh level where, in the shadow of the Tower of Ecthelion, the party had halted. He stayed out of sight and listened to the repeated chant and watched as the leader lowered the bundle of rags so that it was at waist height above the Fountain.

    And then with Balion realised just what the bundle of rags was, and what the dagger was for. He suddenly leapt from his hiding place and rushed towards the group shouting, ‘Stop, don’t you hurt that baby you bastards! Stop!’. He drew his sword to counter the knife that was poised to sacrifice the newly born but the others revealed their own weapons beneath their robes.

    Madly he rushed to the baby’s aid but the group members laughed and parried their foe’s furious blows. For minutes he defended himself and much hurt he dealt his enemies but it was all in vain for their numbers were too great and Balion fell to the ground, blood spurting from a chest wound.

    He did not die immediately but all he saw was a slanted view of the water of the fountain and the Tree of Gondor. For a few moments he just heard the distorted words of the cult – for a cult it was, the ancient cult that had not been openly practiced since the Cleansing of Harad – then Balion saw the thing he had feared the most: the fast flow of blood that fell from the baby held above into the moonlit waters. Balion tried to scream but no words escaped and the last thing he saw was the Cult Leader as he stained the White Tree red. Blood red.

    There were a few more words and then a stream of lightning flowed from the fountain and shot up the Tower of Ecthelion and into the sky where it caused havoc with nature’s work and a storm engulfed Middle-Earth but it brew far worst in the North, in Hobbiton.

    Something was coming, along with the doom of Middle-Earth.

    Part IV:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part IV: Of the Enemy

    In the beginning there had been light and music but the world had changed much since then. Long had He been trapped and now His vengeance would come at the end of the Arda when all would plunge into eternal darkness. The same darkness He had endured for millennia.

    To the void He had been banished and now in all His glory He would return and wreak havoc on those beings of Illvatar. Long had had His servant Sauron researched the secrets of the Door of the Night but with Sauron’s destruction the information had been scattered. But His cult had found these secrets and for the past Age sought to bring back their God.

    His face, that had once been divine, beautiful and of light, was now twisted by His evil sorcery and now bore a great scar, scored into His flesh by the talons of Thorondor the First Great Eagle. With a limp he walked for in his foot rested the fragments of the broken hilt of Ringil, sword of Fingolfin, the High King of the Noldor who had fallen to His power. And yet he had to be thankful for in his capture his feet had been cut from under Him and in the ages gone they had healed painfully.

    And so in the late days of the Fourth Age He heard the words, echoing to Him from beyond the Door, ‘Sha-fli Armauk ob draut hu-na Bot.’ And impatiently He waited for the words to be complete.

    And the words came with a newborn’s strength and He looked upon the Door of the Night and laughed for it was worthless in the face of his newfound strength. He broke the chain that bound Him and reformed the collar into the crown it once was, and yet it was colourless without the Silmarils. And He rose to His still painful feet and summoned His power and let it loose upon the barrier between the Void and the Arda. But it held firm.

    But He was not one to despair and so cast his strength into the fell beasts of stone that guarded the gate and admired them as they took in the new life He had given them. The beasts of terror rose alive from their places and obeyed their new Master’s will and they screeched until the basalt shook. Once more He let forth His fury upon the Doors of the Night and the lock crumbled and everything changed.

    From the darkness of the Void, three Ages since He was last in existence, came Melkor, Morgoth Bauglir, the Great Enemy, the Tyrant, the Traitor.

    Melkor had returned to the Arda and Middle-Earth would never be the same again.

    Chapter II: Of the Coming of Erendil

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: Of the Stars

    Delgo Baggins could not sleep and so he sat peacefully on the grassy roof of his smial, watching the moon descend from the sky. In his hand he grasped a pipe of Longbottom Leaf as it always did and he was eying it as if it were poisonous. Since the moon had reached his highest point Delgo had seen lights in the sky, they were not stars and he had more sense than to pass it off on that. The lights were at first merely spots of red in the west, but they had grown into what could only be described as explosions, like those caused by the magic in the Legend of Gandalf the Wizard.

    Then something stranger occurred and Delgo watched in utter terror as, one by one, the stars were dragged towards the west... and obliterated... All save two...

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: Of Anor and Ithil

    Melkor sang as He pulled the stars into the Void, He sang of “joy” in the Black Speech.

    As the beacons of light were drawn in, the Enemy sent forth his demons of the air, taking one as a steed to carry him into his dominion.

    He ordered forth his beasts to flaming Anor, the glowing orb of beauty and light. He looked upon it, reminiscing of the days when He had destroyed the lamps and the trees and He shouted out, ‘Ko Burzum, ha nalt alag Dil!’ And the Darkness obeyed, issuing forth from the void, it shrouded fair Anor in Nothing and when it dissipated it was no more – save for a few sparks of fire that had survived. But upon seeing these embers the Fell Beasts of Morgoth swallowed them whole and they kindled a flame in their throats and ever after fire issued from their mouths.

    Then Melkor gazed upon fairest Ithil, most beloved of the Elves and its light burnt him until he raised his arm and, with a clench of his mighty fist, broke it. It shattered like glass and the fragments rained down on the planet below.

    The destruction of Arda had begun.

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: The Most Beloved Star

    And so with fair Anor lost only one star remained and it fell upon Melkor with the fury of one who has lost all.

    From his place high in the sky, Erendil, bearer of a Silmaril, brightest and most beloved star, ancestor of Aragorn and Arwen, looked upon the destruction of his fellow stars and wept. Most enraged was he by the suffocating of the Sun and the breaking of the moon that he left his high place and went forth to avenge the loss. He clashed with his foe high above Middle-Earth and of the Battle little can be told for it was a struggle of beings beyond description.

    But Melkor was not destined to fall at Erendil’s hands. The Fell Beasts of the Darkest Lord screeched unbearably and leapt at him with their talon’s poised to strike. Erendil fled for he knew now it would take more than he to take down He who had arisen once more in Might.

    It was time to call for the ships to return from over the Sundering Seas...

    Book II: Heroes and Villains
    “Farewell, my brave Hobbits. My work is now finished. Here at last, on the shores of the sea... comes the end of our Fellowship. I will not say do not weep, for not all tears are an evil”
    - Gandalf the White
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    West of the Mountains

    Chapter I: The First Ship

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: Boromir

    ‘Boromir, Boromir, Boromir, Boromir!’

    The crowd’s cheers were deafening, it was good day. I raised my voice and shouted: ‘This city was once the jewel of our kingdom. A place of light, and beauty, and music. And so it shall be once more! Let the armies of Mordor know this: Never again will the land of my people fall into enemy hands! The city of Osgiliath has been reclaimed... For Gondor!’
    ‘For Gondor!’
    ‘For Gondor!’
    ‘For Gondor!’
    ‘For Gondor!’
    ‘For Gondor!’

    And then I embraced my brother Faramir in the street, ‘Good speech,’ he commented, ‘Nice and short.’

    ‘Leaves more time for drinking!’ I replied cheerily, ‘Break out the ale! These men are thirsty!’ And so with a glass of beer we toasted the future, it may not look pleasant, there was certainly going to be a far greater war but not today, ‘Remember today, little brother. Today, life is good.’ But then it all went wrong.

    Faramir’s face darkened, ‘What?’ I asked, fearing the worst.

    ‘He is here.’ It was the worst:

    I turned and saw our father, ‘One moment of peace. Can he not give us that?’ I said to my brother.

    ‘Where is he? Where is Gondor's finest? Where is my first-born?’ – Did he always have to rub it in? Faramir tried his best.

    ‘Father!’ I embraced him but not as warmly as I had done with Faramir.

    ‘They say you vanquished the enemy almost single-handedly.’

    ‘They exaggerate. The victory belongs to Faramir also.’

    ‘But for Faramir, this city would still be standing. Were you not entrusted to protect it?’

    Faramir’s face darkened even further and he stated, ‘I would have done, but our numbers were too few.’

    "Oh, too few. You let the enemy walk in and take it on a whim. Always you cast a poor reflection on me.’

    ‘That is not my intent.’

    I interrupted quickly, ‘You give him no credit and yet he tries to do your will.’ I moved away and let my father follow, ‘He loves you, Father.’

    ‘Do not trouble me with Faramir. I know his uses, and they are few.’ I gave up, father was too stubborn. Denethor’s voice grew hushed now and he said, ‘We have more urgent things to speak of. Elrond of Rivendell has called a meeting. He will not say why, but I have guessed its purpose. It is rumoured that the weapon of the enemy has been found.’

    I was fearfully surprised and now I understood the riddles that had troubled me and my brother, ‘The One Ring. Isildur's Bane.’

    ‘It has fallen into the hands of the Elves. Everyone will try to claim it: Men, Dwarves, wizards. We cannot let that happen. This thing must come to Gondor.’

    ‘Gondor?’ And my mind was crying out “No!”. What did Father want with such an evil? It should not, would not, come here for it would corrupt the hearts of us all.

    ‘It's dangerous, I know. Ever the Ring will seek to corrupt the hearts of lesser men. But you, you are strong and our need is great. It is our blood which is being spilled, our people who are dying. Sauron is biding his time. He's massing fresh armies. He will return. And when he does, we will be powerless to stop him. You must go. Bring me back this mighty gift.’

    Gift? No it was not of greatness but of devilry, ‘No. My place is here with my people. Not in Rivendell!’

    ‘Would you deny your own father?’
    Yes for this, I thought.

    ‘If there is need to go to Rivendell, send me in his stead.’

    Denethor looked mockingly at his second son, ‘You? Oh, I see. A chance for Faramir, Captain of Gondor, to show his quality.’ I felt like striking him, ‘I think not. I trust this mission only to your brother. The one who will not fail me.’

    And so I found myself on my horse looking down at my brother saying, ‘Remember today, little brother.’ And then I was gone...


    Pain shot through my body but I did not cry out, in my mind’s eye all I saw were the two hobbits and I was all that stood between the Orcs and them. I parried the blows of the closest two creatures with fierce determination and then finished them off. Strength flooded from my body but it did not matter, this may be my end but it would not be theirs, the little ones had to survive.

    Another arrow pierced my flesh and I collapsed to my knees, in front of Merry and Pippin. I made a noise that was meant to be “No!” but it was slurred. Weakly, I rose to my feet and defended them and my honour to the last.

    A third arrow struck me and I was on my knees again and it was all a blur. All was lost, the hobbits, the Fellowship, the Ring? The Archer was in front of me, aiming an arrow and then something collided with it...


    ‘They took the little ones,’ I said weakly.

    ‘Be still,’ said Aragorn.

    ‘Frodo! Where is Frodo?’

    ‘I let Frodo go.’

    ‘Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the Ring from him.’

    ‘The Ring is beyond our reach now.’

    ‘Forgive me. I did not see it. I have failed you all.’

    ‘No, Boromir, you fought bravely! You have kept your honor.’ Aragorn went to remove the arrows but I stopped him.

    ‘Leave it! It is over. The world of men will fall, and all will come to darkness… and my city to ruin.’

    ‘I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you I will not let the White City fall… nor our people fail!’

    ‘Our people? Our people.’ I motioned towards my sword and Aragorn handed it to me, ‘I would have followed you my Brother… my Captain… my King!"

    And all that was grey in that old world rolled back to reveal silver glass and I beheld the whitest shores under a swift sunrise and I would be forever at peace.

    Or so I thought.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: Thoden

    ‘Where is the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing? They have passed like rain on the mountains, like wind in the meadow. The days have gone down in the west. Behind the hills, into shadow.
    ‘How did it come to this?’


    ‘Arise! Arise! Riders of Thoden! Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered! A sword-day! A red day, ere the sun rises!’ Across the field the great army of the Enemy had gathered and only our spears could save the burning citadel of Minas Tirith. I rode down the lines of horsemen, my sword rattling on the tips of my companions’ spears, ‘Ride now,’ I cried, ‘ride now, ride! Ride for ruin and the world's ending!

    ‘Death!’ cried the Rohirrim.

    ‘Forth Eorlingas!’ I cried and with the horn of Rohan blowing we rode into darkness and death.


    ‘Rally to me! To me!’

    My men gathered and then suddenly scattered as a terrifying screech broke the air. I turned slowly fearing the end to see a great monster, with large bat-like wing bearing down on me. It struck swift Snowmane from under me and I fell to the ground, crushed under my steed and all was just a blur.


    A shadow passed in front of me and I tried to recognise it, I said: ‘I know your face. owyn. My eyes darken.’

    The fair lady had tears streaming down her face, ‘No. No, I am going to save you.’

    ‘You already did,’ I replied, ‘owyn, my body is broken. You have to let me go. I go to my fathers in whose mighty company I shall not now feel ashamed.’ The darkness embraced me, ‘owyn,’ I murmured ultimately.

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: Bard

    I drew the bowstring to my ear and peered down the black shaft. Smaug the mighty circled in the sky, raining fiery terror down on the town of Esgaroth. Desperation for the end of the beast knawed at my heart and I was determined to pierce its armour. The Old Thrush had told me where and now I looked to the hollow on the left breast.

    ‘Arrow,’ I murmured, ‘Black arrow! I have saved you to the last. You have never failed me and always I have recovered you. I had you from my father and he from of old. If ever you came from the forges of the true King under the Mountain, go now and speed well!’

    The great Dragon swooped even lower but with a twang the cord was loose and the arrow gone. But it missed the scales and struck the weakness and with a roar majestic Smaug the accursed fell, into the ruin if Esgaroth. Smaug was no more, but so was Lake-Town.

    Part IV:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part IV: Galadriel

    I amar prestar aen, han mathon ne nen, han mathon ne chae, a han noston ned 'wilith.
    I saw the fall of Morgoth Bauglir, He who arose in Might. I saw the fall of Sauron Annatar, Necromancer of Dol Guldur whose dark fortress I destroyed. I guided the Ringbearer in his tasks...

    The white ship upon which I stood was the first of many but on this one travelled the leaders of Gondor, Rohan and Dale. Brave men whose valour had been proved in the greatest of feats... or the noblest of sacrifices. The man Boromir, troubled he had been when last my eyes searched his soul, full of a wish to prove himself and to do the right thing. His only fear was that he knew not what the right thing was. And in the back of his mind a shadow had lurked, a threat to the Fellowship: the Ring had gnawed at his mind. Interesting that he had been called to end this darkness, to restore the world to how it once was.

    The Sundering Seas roared about us and I knew it was time. Suddenly a white veil rose up in front of us, like a wall of glass. Undaunted, our ship drew closer and the waves were more and more deafening. The veil rolled back and all before us the straight road through the nothingness that separated fair Valinor from the Arda. But the road was shortening, Morgoth’s devilry was repairing the crack between the worlds and we, the peoples of freedom, had to stop it else all would fall through and it would be over, for everyone. Hours passed and still we travelled the straight road, flying through the nothing. And then another veil appeared on the horizon but it was grey and the curtain rolled back to allow us into a world of rain and all that was fair and beautiful had been taken by Morgoth’s darkness.

    We had returned to the once fair Arda but it was changed. Slowly the craft of the elves sailed towards the mainland: the western shores of Middle-Earth, but they were aflame and I looked in tears for what was causing this devastation and there, in the skies circled Fell Beasts, Morgoth’s servants.

    ‘Valar varyam,’ I murmured in Quenya: Valar protect us...

    Part V:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part V: The Grey Havens

    We passed into the Gulf of Lune and soon the Grey Havens came into sight. But as we drew closer we saw the tall structures and fair architecture was in ruins, flames licked the walls, scorched the stone and suffocated the inhabitants. Their bodies lay blackened on the ground in the streets, showing where they had tried to escape to safety. The murderers still hovered in the sky and, enraged, Bard notched an arrow to his bow and pulled back the string.

    A Fell Beast separated from the flock and descended swiftly towards us. Bard peered down the shaft and waited for his target. A minute passed and then he loosed the shaft and it vanished into the distance. A moment later it struck its target in the eye, the great creature pulled back with an ear-splitting screech. After loosing another arrow he turned to face the pier.

    Boromir was the first to disembark; he drew his sword and looked cautiously around before saying, ‘We’re alone, save for them.’ He glanced upwards where the beasts still circled in the sky like giant vultures waiting for a feast. ‘Why don’t they attack?’

    ‘He cannot come near land until the year 2990 for only then will the power of the Valar be lost,’ Galadriel answered, ‘Come, we must go to the Shire.’

    ‘What is there?’ Thoden asked.

    ‘Everything,’ was her reply.

    And so they made their way carefully through the ruined city. The first few minutes passed peacefully but then a fell voice reached them and the ground quaked. Suddenly Bard cried out as the earth beneath his feet was pushed up by something trying to escape imprisonment beneath the soil. They retreated to a wall and watched as, not one, but hundreds of lumps formed and exploded, spattering the companions with earth. Most worrying was what lay under the ground: skeletal figures with elf-like ears and green skin hanging of torn muscle: once they could have been call Orcs but now they were dead, slain in battle, their wounds still showing and each one unmistakeably alive. Orcish Zombies.

    ‘What the?’ Bard stuttered.

    ‘Run!’ Galadriel shouted and they obeyed, Boromir and Thoden leading them with Bard watching their backs. At the head the warriors of Gondor and Rohan were cutting a path through the undead, their numbers were unceasing and flesh wounds did not seem to kill them. All of a sudden a group of undead seized the Elf and dragged her aside, a hordes of creatures jumped on the men and for a moment all seemed lost. Then, from Galadriel, there came a white light which froze everything in its tracks then exploded in a blast of air and freed they were back to running and cleaving.

    The group reached the edge of the city and there the hordes of zombies ceased save for those that came from behind. Galadriel ushered the companions to proceed without her and reluctantly they obeyed. They ran on and looked back to see white light illuminating the buildings of Mithlond.

    Part VI:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part VI: Hobbiton

    On eighth day since they left the ruins of the Grey Havens, the untroubled fertile fields and grassy green lawns of the Halflings came into the traveller’s sights. It was a strange sight amidst the unpopulated – and therefore pitch black – lands of the Far Downs and Tower Hills. Lanterns lined the roads and fires guarded the doors of the Hobbit holes.

    But first they had to avoid the guards: two, surprisingly well equipped, young but strong hobbits who did not lack in intelligence. Boromir spoke first, lying that they had arranged a meeting with someone, a Baggins, but the guards laughed at him, “Those Baggins haven’t had anything to do with outsiders since the Old Days, go back whence you came from.”

    Galadriel stepped forwards and the hobbits stepped back alarmed at her powerful aura but she smiled and said in Quenya, ‘The hour is nigh, the Darkness has come and the free peoples will gather. The Earth will begin at the End.’

    And as if they were the password the guards nodded – briskly and nervously, those words stirred something in their minds – and then they stood aside. They continued into the Shire which had remained untouched by man for centuries.

    The party walked the quickest they had done since they left Mithlond; between there and the Shire it had been darkness but in light they made good speed. They reached the Green Dragon in an hour yet it was always the peak hour there, the group settled at a table whilst Boromir fetched some drinks – Galadriel doing without.

    ‘Black Sheep,’ Boromir announced handing Bard and Thoden a full mug of dark beer.

    ‘So what are we doing here?’ Thoden asked.

    ‘Waiting for the others,’ Galadriel replied, giving little away.

    ‘When will they arrive?’


    Thoden looked out the window and said in an undertone, ‘But when is tomorrow?’

    Chapter II: The Second Ship

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: Gimli

    ‘Argh! Let them come! There is one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!’ I growled, standing on the tomb of Balin; the door to the chamber was shaking under the pressure of all the Goblins desperate to get in but it was guarded by a few flimsy tools of ancient days.

    With a crash the doors parted and the beasts were pouring in, I loosed an axe into the crown of a distant enemy and leapt off the tomb to strike my second axe into the abdomen of a goblin. There were shrieks all around me and, with a strong desire for revenge, I silenced the noise makers. I cleaved a foe in two and saw a great mass enter the room: a troll, ‘Baruk Khazd! Khazd ai-mnu!’ I cried and rushed to engage it.


    After the victory at Helm’s Deep and the fall of Saruman, the peoples of Rohan were celebrating in the heart of Medusel.
    ‘No pauses, no spills,’ omer announced to me and the elf, placing several mugs of beer on the table before us.
    ‘And no regurgitation,’ I added with a chuckle.

    ‘So it's a drinking game?’

    ‘Aye, Last one standing wins,’ I laughed again at the elf’s naivety and his chances. With that said I down my tankard and seized another whilst Legolas took an uncertain sip.

    Many drinks later it seemed a good idea to say a few things, it certainly felt the time. ‘Here, here. It's the dwarves that go swimming with little hairy women.’ I chuckled, burped and took another long draught. Meanwhile the elf was examining his fingers.

    ‘I feel something,’ he said worriedly, ‘A slight tingling in my fingers. I think it's affecting me.’

    omer looked at the elf with a surprised expression, ‘What did I say?’ I announced quite confidently, ‘He can’t hold his liquor!’

    And I remember no more.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: Legolas

    Rain fell on the battlements of Helm’s Deep.

    In a moment of madness, for I knew not if it would succeed, I picked up a discarded Uruk shield and hurled it at the ground. Swiftly, I pursued it and jumped on the moving surface so I and the shield crashed down the short flight of stairs.

    I swiftly notched and released a series of shafts from my bow and jumped from the shield so that it collided with the throat of an Uruk-Hai. I drew my whitest knives and slashed them across a foe’s breast, counting each kill: ‘fifteen.’

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: The Hobbits

    Content coming soon (it's just another pointless flashback)

    Part IV:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part IV: The Windswept Ruins

    Legolas stared intently at the fire breathing demons that circled in the sky above the docks. ‘Fell beasts of Morgoth,’ he announced to his companions.

    ‘And ashore?’ Gimli asked hopefully for he could not kill any airborne beasts.

    ‘Something stirs in the soil,’ the elf replied in his mystic manner.

    ‘Good, my axe shall be bloodied once more!’

    Peregrin Took sat nervously by the mast watching the fire lit shores grow closer. ‘How did we get into all this Merry?’

    Laughing Meriadoc Brandybuck replied, ‘A shortcut to Mushrooms.’ They chuckled warmly as Hobbits did and Pippin spoke of his recurring wish for pipeweed. Legolas walked over to them, ‘Stay close, wield your blades well’ he said, ‘and you shall taste your beloved leaf and see the Shire once more.’

    ‘We’re going to the Shire? Will we see Frodo? And Sam? And Old Bilbo?’

    ‘Yes to the Shire but I doubt we will see them yet. We are going to the Green Dragon-’

    ‘And I hope they serve good drinks,’ Gimli added.


    Arrows protruding from its breast, a fell beast plummeted from the sky, landing on and crushing several buildings and a great dust cloud swept from the devastation.

    Coughing, the group disembarked with the sound of scraping steel as they readied their swords; the ground was shaking again.
    The undead emerged thin and coated in soil; one launched itself at Pippin but was caught mid-flight by an arrow. ‘One,’ Legolas counted.

    ‘Like that is it? Baruk Khazd!’ Gimli roared, decapitating two creatures, ‘Khazd ai-mnu! Two!’ And they sprinted through the main street.

    Merry and Pippin stayed between their companions, avoiding the fray, but attacking with forgotten skill when anything came close enough. Finally at the city entrance Legolas came to a halt, ‘Sixteen.’

    Gimli, who was at the rear of the party, stopped, panting, and announced a score one less, Legolas laughed and in reply Gimli turned and hurled an axe into the crown of a pursuing undead, it cracked audibly. ‘Sixteen.’

    Chapter III: The Hunters and the Hunted

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: The Green Dragon

    A bitter breeze wafted into the tavern and behind it the door slammed shut.

    ‘Ah this looks more like it!’ Gimli said appreciably.

    ‘Home,’ Pippin said and rushed to the bar where he ordered some pints (pint-sized beverages had been introduced to Hobbits in the early Fourth Age).

    ‘Peregrin Took!’ shouted a voice and the hobbit turned to see a man he knew should be dead:

    ‘Boromir!’ Pippin exclaimed and rushed over to the resurrected man.

    When the greetings were said and they all were seated, Galadriel began to speak, ‘Now that we are all here, let us discuss what is to come and why we are here in the first place: The year is 2989 of the Fourth Age and, as predicted long ago, the darkest lord Melkor, Morgoth Bauglir, has returned and destroyed the Sun, Moon and Stars. His old servant Sauron will most likely return as will every demon he ever enslaved.

    ‘And now we have returned to defend this fair planet against the war that is soon to come. As the first, we are to unite the people but will be hindered, we are outnumbered. We here alone have a year to unite all before Morgoth can stand once more on the green grass of Middle-Earth but already Sauron’s nine are abroad and will hunt us, they outnumber us but in small numbers we can stay hidden.’

    At that moment the drinkers in the tavern fell silence and turned to face the door as, from somewhere far away – but within the outskirts of the town – a long, shrill, bloodcurdling screech broke the air like a Morgul blade through flesh.

    ‘Was that..?’ Pippin stuttered, his voice weak.

    Galadriel nodded, ‘The Nine are here.’

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: The Circle of Doom

    It had lain on the outskirts of Hobbiton for millennia and no-one knew why: a circle of erect stones that were said to have been built by the Gods. Each vertical stone was topped with a horizontal one which rested on the stone and its neighbours, some more curious of Hobbits had noted that, once a year, on the 1st of Lithe (what is in later days the 21st of June), the rising sun casts a beam of light directly through the space between two outer stones and onto the stone in the heart of the circle: the altar stone.

    Now, as the seven Heroes sat discussing the events to come in the cosy Green Dragon, a shrill shriek echoed across the lands from the heart of the henge of stone and nine riders, robed in black, on steeds bred in hell, galloped from the ring and the hunt had begun.

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: The Chase to the Brandywine Bridge

    The road was not easy as the borrowed steeds bore them uneasily in the darkness. Thoden led them for he alone could tame his horse and beside him rode Merry who guided the former King.

    ‘In all your tales you made me wish to see these lands and yet now that I have the chance they are shrouded in darkness, the torches at least give some idea of their beauty. Ah this must be one of your houses.’ They had rounded a corner and a circular hobbit door had come into view. ‘You like your gardens.’

    ‘And our pipeweed sire,’ Merry said, puffing out a breath of smoke from his pipe. ‘Should we not be hurrying?’

    ‘No, we are safe in the firelight and so long as we don’t make too much of a disturbance we shall not be seen. These riders have no Ring to pursue and so their other senses must suffice and in this darkness what can they see?’

    Merry nodded, unconvinced. Suddenly a shriek shattered the silence and Legolas looked back, ‘They are here!’ he called and, picking up torches from the roadside, they galloped ahead into the darkness.

    The party road hard for many miles, slowing down frequently so the hobbits on their small ponies could catch up; finally, by the Brandywine Bridge, they stopped and decided to rest for the night.

    ‘Extinguish the torches but prepare firewood in case we need a fire,’ Boromir said, dismounting.

    Pippin did not sleep well, he kept jumping at the breaking of a twig or the sound of a bird. It’s only a fox, he told himself frequently but it never reassured him. Snap! Another branch snapped and Pippin jumped to his feet after three more broke. He rushed over to Boromir and urged him to wake up, only when the man heard the worried words, ‘there’s something here!’ did he wake fully.

    Pippin went to light the fire and soon it was ablaze revealing several dark figures, in an instant he cried, ‘AWAKE! FEAR! FIRE! FOES! AWAKE!’
    Boromir seized his sword and lunged at the approaching Ringwraith, steel clashed and Boromir was barely able to parry the enemy’s blows. Thoden rushed to his aid and slammed a burning stick in its hidden face. With a shriek it was gone – for the moment.

    The other Heroes were on their feet armed themselves but for now their enemies had scattered. They mounted swiftly, Boromir and Thoden held back though to keep the Nazgl at bay. ‘Hurry,’ Galadriel called back, ‘you cannot fall.’

    Boromir turned to face the darkness and picked up a fresh torch, ‘The fire will not last long,’ he warned. Suddenly a Ringwraith fell upon Thoden and Boromir brought his sword down on the wraith’s neck, it impacted on something but did not pass through. The foe turned to Boromir and attacked him with devastating strength. Boromir managed to push the Ringwraith back but now they were surrounded by the Nine. ‘We’re trapped,’ Thoden said, stating the obvious, ‘and the fire is only embers.’

    Suddenly someone came out of the darkness bearing sword and flame. The person struck the Nazgl from behind and they ran off shrieking but Boromir did not fail to notice the blood pouring from one of their wounds.

    The newcomer came into the dying firelight and sheathed her sword, Thoden’s face betrayed shock whilst Boromir’s showed appreciation.

    ‘I am Alw,’ she said, ‘I am seeking a journey south – to Gondor, I have a message for the King’ she looked into Boromir’s eyes, ‘as are you.’ She spoke with a fair voice that knew light, joy and sorrow, was around 29 with piercing blue eyes and had a pure, beautiful complexion; her long dark hair contrasted perfectly with her pale skin. ‘I will help you find your companions, I know these lands and more than what those hobbits know. There is danger at every bend, the Barrow-Wights roam freely, there are Trolls once more in the lands near Imladris and wolves everywhere else. Nature is turning against man and the world is ending!’ Suddenly she broke and her voice despaired, ‘what can we do against the darkness when the world is doomed to die?’ She shook herself and whistled, and from the darkness came a tall, black stallion with a mane of jet. She jumped onto it and led the two men into the eternal darkness.

    Part IV:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part IV: Alw

    Across the Brandywine Bridge the lights of houses pierced the darkness and towards these Alw led them. Her steed snorted loudly and she glanced back, ‘They are still close, hurry.’

    They broke into a gallop, passing south by the river’s edge. An hour passed and they moved towards the sleepy village of Crickhollow, the lights were out and they made their way unconfidently towards the lone gate in the Hedge which still acted as a fence against the forest. There gathered the remaining Heroes, who greeted Alw with confusion.

    The gate slammed shut behind the party as they entered the Old Forest.

    ‘Swords out, there are demons in the forest,’ Alw warned and Legolas and Gimli exchanged doubtful glances.

    ‘Something just moved on that tree!’ Pippin exclaimed suddenly aiming his torch towards his vision which had vanished conveniently.
    They continued deeper into the forest with the Hobbits frequently jumping at shadows. They reached Bonfire Glade and stopped, ‘Can we stop here?’ Bard asked, exhausted.

    Boromir looked to Alw who nodded, ‘Keep a fire alight.’


    The party fell asleep quickly and no breaking twigs disturbed them but Boromir awoke early and saw Alw tending to the fire, adding fresh wood to fuel it. He moved over to sit beside her and for a few minutes they sat silent watching the flames flicker.

    ‘Why are you with us? What happened?’

    Alw looked thoughtfully at Boromir and said simply, ‘They betrayed us.’


    ‘The tribes from Forodwaith, the cold-dwellers, the Helegwaith. We gave them land and peace and then... they betrayed us all and all of Angmar is aflame once more. A new power is rising their and it worships Melkor. They attacked our city – Annminas – raped the women, murdered the men, threw the children from the walls, killed everyone except me.’

    ‘You escaped?’

    ‘No,’ she replied bitterly, clenching her pale fist, ‘They caught me early, “spared” me, then raped my mother before my eyes and slit my father’s throat. And when it was all over they released me and gave me a message to give to the King of Gondor.’ She stood up, tears in her eyes, ‘And do you know what the worst thing is? That I gave up, I should have fought, I should have killed the bastards!’
    Boromir stood up, ‘You were frightened, you were trapped, there’s nothing you could have done.’ She nodded, wiping droplets from her eyes, then sat down. Silence resumed.

    Several minutes passed and Alw, her eyes dry, looked at Boromir, ‘and what of you? Who are you, forgotten hero of years long gone by, dead for many more?’

    Boromir looked into her eyes and took a breath, ‘I was the first son Denethor who was steward during the Great Siege of Minas Tirith, brother of Faramir. I was sent to Imladris where I became the ninth member of the Fellowship of the Ring. I fell at Amon Hen-’

    ‘Defending the Hobbits,’ Alw finished and the son of Denethor nodded ‘that Boromir. I remember hearing the tale of your valour when I was young, a man came to court, an emissary from Gondor, my father asked him to tell a tale of “great strength and nobility” and he said he would tell a tale of his ancestor’s brother who died in the times of Sauron, and he told your tale.’

    Boromir laughed and said, ‘And did he tell you of how the Ring corrupted me? Every hero has a weakness, where one is strong in body they are weak in mind. “Court” you said? Who was your father?’

    ‘King Alcinor of Arnor,’ Alw replied.

    Boromir smiled but then the expression was wiped from his face, ‘what was that?’

    Alw looked where her companion was pointing, ‘Demons,’ she unsheathed her sword and readied it as, climbing down a nearby tree, was a creature with green skin and glowing yellow eyes, ‘What is it?’ Boromir asked.

    ‘A form of Goblin some say, like forests where there is thick shade from the Sun.’

    And suddenly they were surrounded by the beasts, crawling on four legs as fast as a dog; one jumped at Boromir who rose his sword and cleaved it in two. Alw had her sword at the ready and swung it through the incoming hordes of creatures with devastating skill. Everyone else was awake and they formed a circle around the fire and horses, even the hobbits battled the goblins for they were easy foes but great in number.

    ‘There are too many!’ Thoden cried as the hordes kept on coming.

    It was when the group was wearying that, from far off in the forest, there came a voice, a voice that sang utter nonsense:
    ‘Hey dol! merry dol! ring a dong dillo!
    Ring a dong! hop along! fal lal the willow!
    Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!’

    Part V:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part V: In the House of Tom Bombadil

    Out of the darkness came a figure, too small to be a man and yet too big to be a hobbit. He was a little portly with long, unkempt brown hair and a long beard that rested on his blue coat. His face was red and could crease into a thousand wrinkles of laughter. In his hands he carried on a large leaf as on a tray a small pile of white water-lilies – but they were dead.

    ‘Help!’ cried Merry and he suddenly realised the irony of the situation for it was those words that started their first meeting with the strange character.

    Tom stopped his merry skipping and turned to face the trapped heroes. ‘Whoa! Whoa! Look at this! Elves, Dwarves and Men all in the Old Forest, oh come a merry dol let’s deal the damage!’ And with those words he sang a few words in a language long forgotten and the creatures fled. There was a stunned silence as all the men looked upon this strangest of strangers with utter disbelief.

    ‘What the?’ Bard stuttered.


    The journey to Tom’s house was filled with the tales of the hobbit’s first encounter with their host and by the time they reached the small cottage the men knew all of Tom’s mysterious behaviour.

    ‘Where’s Goldberry?’ Merry asked as they entered the house.

    ‘Oh, she’s gone. She is away down river, staying with nature for there she must be at the End.’

    ‘The End?’ Pippin said.

    ‘The End is drawing near for us all save... two.’ He glanced in the direction of the men, paused, then turned to Galadriel. ‘My powers are weak, nature is tuning against us-’

    ‘“Nature is turning against man and the world is ending”’ Boromir said, looking at Alw, ‘so you say.’

    ‘The Lady is right but she knows not what is to come. No-one does, only time will tell. You know you are in trouble when even the wisest do not know what is to come.’ Tom returned his attention to Galadriel, ‘as I was saying, I am powerless, I cannot even rhyme,’ he laughed, ‘I am useless on your adventure save to humour the wolves for of them there shall be many. But come! Let me not hold you all to conversation when there are beds ready. I fear though that there are too few places to sleep.’

    ‘I’ll be fine, Tom, I have lived rough for months,’ Alw stated.

    ‘Then for that you may sleep comfortably for the first time in ages.’

    Alw, Galadriel and the two hobbits received the beds and so slept well. Dawn came and they departed the house and Tom waved goodbye, ‘Destiny,’ he murmured, ‘and the End in sight. Ahh, sleep!’

    Part VI:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part VI: Darkness on the Barrow-Downs

    All was a fog of impenetrable pea soup and there was something in it, alive.

    ‘Can you control the wights?’ Alw asked Galadriel who shook her head, ‘Not anymore.’

    The younger woman raised her sword, grasping it in both hands. Suddenly out of the darkness came something darker, a shade. It received a hard blow from Alw’s sword and fell back, only to be reinforced by more.

    ‘How do we fight these things?’ Thoden asked, swinging his blade wildly.

    ‘You’re doing fine,’ Alw called back.

    They moved slowly, Galadriel leading with Alw at her side. ‘What are we following?’ she asked the elf.

    ‘There,’ Galadriel replied pointing to something in the sky, ‘A final star, it’s Erendil.’

    Alw looked up and saw, amidst the endless field of darkness, a single spot of starlight, silver and beautiful in the sky, it was like a symbol of hope.

    From the night came a fresh wave of wights, animated skeletons wrapped in robes of darkness with armour the corpses had worn when they were buried. Alw swung her sword and a skull fell loose and the skeleton collapsed into a mound of bones. They broke into a gallop, passing more and more of the deathly creatures. A great doorway in the hillside rose up, its mouth beckoning the travellers in but they increased their horses’ pace and charged into a wall of wraiths.

    Suddenly one grabbed Merry, pulling him from his saddle; its bony fingers strangling the hobbit’s neck. Pippin swung his sword at the wight’s arm and the bone shattered from the blow. Merry came free and sat coughing on the ground whilst the warriors attacked the demons of the Witch-King with all the fury they had.

    ‘Their lines are thinning, quick, go!’ Thoden shouted, and they resumed the gallop towards the star.

    ‘The mounds are ending, look it is flatter,’ Legolas’ announcement was a relief to them all and, as the horses’ hooves clattered onto the stone paving of the Greenway, the Barrow-wights ceased their pursuit.

    ‘Where are we?’ Thoden asked.

    ‘The Greenway – the road that goes south from Bree. Now where?’ Alw said.

    ‘We risk the road,’ Galadriel replied.

    The party turned north and rode off into the endless night.

    Part VII:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part VII: Shattered Stone

    ‘Here they are,’ said Pippin looking into the stone face of William the Troll.

    ‘Gandalf did this?’ Boromir asked appreciatively.

    Pippin nodded, ‘Saved Mr Bilbo’s life, kept them arguing until dawn came.’

    ‘Let’s camp here,’ Merry said and they readied a fire under the stone trolls. ‘Amazing, over three millennia and they still stand.’

    Nearby a twig snapped and, taking up her bow and an arrow from the quiver on her back, Alw rose to her feet and disappeared into the trees. ‘Will she be alright?’ Bard asked, uncertainly.

    ‘She can take care of herself.’

    ‘Argh!’ someone exclaimed suddenly and Pippin pulled something from his curly hair.

    ‘What’s this? Stone?’ the hobbit was confused and then something struck Legolas’ back.

    ‘Stone and ash,’ Legolas replied, examining a fragment, ‘but where is it-’ A large dark object stuck the elf sending him flying and everyone looked towards the attacker, their faces showing utter disbelief.


    Alw emerged from the trees a few minutes later, struggling under the weight of a sheep. She faced a scene that would have under better circumstances made her laugh but instead she notched an arrow to the bowstring and aimed it towards the closest troll: Tom.
    There was a quiet twang as the string was loosed and an arrow soared through the darkness. It struck Tom’s neck and the creature gasped, falling back with dark blood pouring from his throat. The others turned and Bert, with the agility of a sixteen-year-old, ran and leapt at Alw. The Dnedain rolled nimbly aside and drew her sword, striking the troll on its chest. Blood did not flow for the skin was too thick and Bert swung his arm at her, hurling her several feet so she landed on a sack which, despite giving a loud curse, broke her fall.

    She drew a knife and slashed it across the sack from which emerged a disgruntled Gimli, ‘Like father, like son,’ he murmured under his breath and he picked up a dropped throwing axe and hurled it at Bert who received it in his tough skull. He collapsed, still conscious but Gimli charged over to him, narrowly missing a swipe from William’s arm.

    Gimli struck Bert hard with his axe, severing the carotid artery which spewed blood onto Gimli’s clothing. Meanwhile Alw was facing William who was searching for a moment to strike. A moment passed, each staring into the other’s eyes then suddenly Will pounced like a wolf but Alw stepped aside, her sword outstretched and William fell upon it, cutting his abdomen where the skin was thin and his guts spilled out. Gimli brought his axe down on the troll’s neck and it was over.

    They emptied the sacks and Alw asked, through a fit of hysterics, ‘How did that even happen?’

    ‘Three swipes of those long arms and we were out,’ Boromir replied, clearly annoyed.

    Galadriel shivered in the cold, her long hair shaken up, ‘We must go , if the stone is breaking I fear things are happening faster than first thought.’

    They mounted their terrified steeds and Alw led them towards the Ford of Bruinen.

    Chapter IV: The Breaking of the Fellowship

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: Keeper of Knowledge

    Imladris, Rivendell, City of the High Elves, was deserted, the silence was such that it was audible and to those who remembered its splendour it was unnerving. The Last Homely House dominated the valley but that too seemed uninhabited. The Heroes explored the rooms and they almost missed the sleeping figure in the Hall of Fire, it was Pippin who noticed him and went to wake the hobbit, ‘Bilbo?’

    The figure stirred and was surprised at the familiar face, ‘Hullo Pippin! What are you doing here? What a pleasant surprise! And Merry too, you wouldn’t happened to have seen Frodo have you?’

    Pippin shook his head, explained that they too had wondered when Frodo would make an appearance but had received no helpful reply and then asked why Bilbo was there in Rivendell.

    ‘Why am I here? Such a good question, the last thing I remember was those great Halls and, hearing the words “you are the Keeper of Knowledge and in Rivendell you shall share it”, I fell asleep and now I wake up here. Ah there are beings more powerful than anything we can imagine messing around with us, deciding our fate.’

    ‘What knowledge do you keep?’ Galadriel asked.

    ‘Nothing of what is to come but why was I sent?’

    Pippin took a heavy book that lay on Bilbo’s lap and examined the cover, ‘The End of All Things by Bilbo Baggins, a new book Bilbo?’
    ‘What’s that, I never wrote... but it’s my handwriting and...’ his voice trailed off, obviously confused.

    ‘But the pages are blank,’ Alw, the only stranger to Bilbo, observed.

    ‘They reveal their secrets only to those the keeper knows,’ Galadriel said, ‘Bilbo, will you read it?’

    The hobbit nodded and moved to the first page and read:

    ‘“When the world is much older, and the Gods weary, Morgoth will come back through the Door, and the last battle of all will be fought. Fionw will fight Morgoth on the plain of Valinor, and the spirit of Turin shall be beside him; it shall be Turin who with his black sword will slay Morgoth, and thus the children of Hurin shall be avenged. That done, the world will be remade and the peoples of Middle-Earth shall have peace eternal with evil gone forever.”’

    Bilbo finished and reread the words, ‘They are not mine, someone else’s. Why are they here?’

    ‘And why do we know the end?’ Alw asked.

    ‘Because we are the little people in this tale, “Turin”, “Fionw”, they will be the victors not us, we are here to guide events, they will make them.’

    ‘Boromir, you speak with such disdain,’ Alw said with an understanding smile.

    Galadriel spoke: ‘We must split, the days are passing too fast, the three hobbits must stay with their people, muster them ready for the time, Bard and Legolas must go north to their people, Gimli to the Kingdoms in Khazad-dm, then Erebor and finally to the White Mountains, Boromir, Alw and Thoden to their peoples in the south. By the end of this year the armies of the Reunited Kingdom – the Hobbits included – must assemble on the Battle Plain of Dagorlad.’

    ‘What will you do?’ Thoden asked.

    ‘Stay here and await the return of the Hobbits, and any others that come for guidance. Then I shall accompany them to Lorien, then finally to Dagorlad.’

    ‘Dagorlad? Is that not tempting fate? Countless thousands died there!’ Boromir said.

    Galadriel nodded and replied, ‘But we were victorious.’

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: South

    ‘The passes are closed, the Beornings no longer guard the route to Dale so be wary. The only pass is through Khazad-dm and is far safer than the last time you went that way.’ The Lady Galadriel smiled and raised her right palm in farewell, ‘Namri,’ she said and the three men, elf, dwarf and woman were gone into the darkness.

    They travelled for over a week before the silence was broken by a shrill shriek. ‘They have come,’ Alw said, unsurprised.

    Boromir raised his torch and looked back, ‘nothing there.’ There was a moment’s pause then, ‘No... wait... goblins, lots of goblins.’
    Millions of goblins, the most diminutive of the Orcish race, the black blooded creatures squealed for blood and waved their short scimitars in the air.

    ‘I don’t think this was our destiny!’ Bard cried out and Legolas cursed the Dark Lord.

    ‘Cursing won’t save us!’ Gimli roared, bringing his axe down on a close by creature, cleaving its cranium in two.

    At that moment a cold, evil voice came out of the darkness and all the goblins trembled, ‘Surrender “heroes” of the west, your time is over, the time of industry and fire is come. Surrender and you shall see it.’

    Boromir laughed, ‘Well it’s the only way we’re going to survive this,’ and, that said, he swung his sword down through the oncoming ranks of creatures and cried, ‘For Gondor!’

    No great force could have saved them that day, not even one million valiant shield maidens of Rohan with all the strength and bravery of the Lady owyn. The Nazgl would not dare to let them survive.

    It was when they were weakest, that the hour of dawn came to that dark day. From the west and east simultaneously there came a light, without explanation, and it scorched across Middle-Earth like a wave of death and no troll or goblin ever moved again.

    ‘What was that?’ Boromir asked staring around at the stone corpses, and at the nine riders who stared back, uncertain of what to do.

    ‘No idea.’

    From that day there was light once more.

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: Of the Lamps of the Fourth Age

    Yavanna, Queen of the Earth, Giver of Fruits, wife of Aul, creator of the Trees, watched and wept.

    And through her tears there came about an event of which little is told: the creation of the second pair of Lamps. Here is told the tale as is written in The End of All Things and was recited most in the houses of the wise in the last days of the Fourth Age:

    Fairest Ithil, golden Anor and all the silver stars lay in ruin, dissipated and cast to the Void. And in the beautiful land of Valinor the Queen of the Earth, Yavanna, saw the destruction and despaired for all was lost, the time had come, her world and all the fair things in it would cease.

    And from her tears came a starlight of hope, two droplets that did not soak into the ground but grew and in that darkness they absorbed the fire of the torches and glowed with a light fuelled by the goddess. The two drops of light rose until they were as high as Yavanna’s eyes and she understood. Taking two lanterns from her desk she encased the droplets and the lanterns glowed with a light that did not flicker like fire nor fade into embers but roared ceaselessly like the Sun once did.

    And in memory of Anor she placed one lamp in the west and set the second lamp in the east, in memory of Ithil, and there they hovered in the sky until the world would come crashing down. But as they were set the lights went out and, fearing all was lost, Yavanna ran across the Arda into the darkest recesses and there she stays until the end of time.

    But as the hour that was once dawn came to Middle-Earth the Lamps glowed anew and gave forth a great light that blinded the peoples as it arose and every Troll and Goblin, foulest spawn of Morgoth Bauglir, was petrified and were, ever after, as stone.

    And from that day there was light once more.

    Part IV:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part IV: West

    Bilbo raised his torch and peered into the darkness ahead, ‘I can’t see a thing,’ he said.

    Behind him Pippin replied, ‘Will it ever end?’

    ‘The Book says so,’ Bilbo answered, ‘There are a few, more detailed, pages after that, “Of the Lamps of the Fourth Age” describes how Yavanna will create light once more for us.’

    ‘Who is Yavanna?’

    ‘A god, more than that I do not know.’

    ‘Hurry up you two,’ Merry shouted back.

    It was the over a week since they left Rivendell and they expected to cross the River Brandywine that day. To the south, only a few feet away, the dark leaves of the Old Forest stretched out towards the nervous travellers on their ponies. ‘I don’t like this,’ Pippin murmured and somewhere a wolf howled, ‘I really don’t like this.’

    Two eyes, yellow and glowing, appeared amongst the trees, a loud growl met the hobbits. Merry pulled out his knife and his companions followed suit, Bilbo’s remained reassuringly grey.

    Suddenly a large wolf jumped from the undergrowth, pulling Pippin from the saddle by its sharp teeth. Merry leapt upon the wolf, stabbing his knife into the creature’s heart, as it tried to sink its teeth into Pippin’s flesh. The wolf yelped and rolled aside and the hobbits mounted their ponies.

    ‘Quickly, the bridge can’t be far!’ Bilbo yelled, spurring his steed forwards. Two more pale eyes appeared on the road ahead and, before the hobbits considered charging the creature, many more appeared. The horses reared, almost throwing the riders, as a series of howls rang in the air.

    Then, all of a sudden, from over the distant mountains of mist and from over the hills of the Towers, a great light, like the rising Sun, rose high and burnt all under its rays.

    The wolves howled once more, backed off... then returned with their sharp teeth gleaming in the new light.

    And they returned with far greater numbers...

    Chapter V: The Mansion of the Dwarves

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: The Watcher in the Water

    Gimli looked at the stone face of Khazad-dm’s western gate and sighed, ‘It is with great pride that I look upon the halls of my people once more.’

    ‘Would that my lands be as fair as yours,’ Legolas said beside him.

    Maybe it was to spite the words of the elf or to spite the work of the dwarves who had greatly beautified the area, but both aims were successful. It rose from the depths of the lake that, during the darkness, had grown black and evil and the being that had been thought dead arose once more.

    As the six Heroes stood on the edge of the black lake a long dark tentacle snaked along the pebbles and with a flick it was around Gimli’s ankles and dragging him into the water. As the small figure cried out unspeakable curses Legolas released a series of arrows into the tentacle before Bard could fire one. The tentacle, weakened, came loose, as did the dwarf and the creature surfaced, displaying its mighty jaws and welcoming meat.

    Legolas took up another arrow and aimed for the beast’s eye; a second later with a whoosh the shaft shot through the air and stuck a tree trunk. Bard laughed and peered down his own black shaft, ‘Fly well,’ he whispered and let go.

    The black arrow soared through the sky, flew between two outstretched tentacles, and pierced the creature’s cornea. As dark blood seeped from its eye socket the beast shuddered and flailed its tentacles, smashing the stonework around the lake. Gimli roared at the devastation and jumped at the beast, axe held high. It came down hard on the creatures jaw, cracking it in half, and the beast could take no more, disappearing under the water, a strong tentacle taking the dwarf with it.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: Slinker or Stinker?
    Legolas abandoned all sense, diving into the deep, freezing lake.
    The icy waters gripped him in an iron grip but he resisted, pushing against the waves. Ahead a great black mass delved deeper and this sight spurred the elf on. A long black tentacle hit his cheek and Legolas seized it and used it to pull himself deeper, and deeper and deeper until a dark figure, grasped by another long feeler, swam into his vision.
    Legolas drew his knives and with one unsteady stroke severed the limb in two. The figure of Gimli drifted away from the creature and the elf grasped his friend and pushed them upwards, towards the light.
    Suddenly a tentacle struck the elf with overwhelming strength and all went black.


    ‘Oh my head!’ Legolas moaned, looking around. He sat on a ledge of rock in a dark pit illuminated only by a fierce golden glow from high above. The ledge was beside a deep, bottomless abyss filled with water and presumably connected to the Black Lake outside. ‘How do we get out of here?’ the elf asked the conscious dwarf beside him.

    ‘And how did we get here in the first place if you were knocked cold?’ Gimli rose unsteadily to his feet and stared into the water, nothing stared back. ‘Do we climb out?’

    I guess it’s the only way,’ Legolas replied, grasping the stone wall with a hand. Suddenly a splash behind him made him whip around, his knives unsheathed and, when he saw the strange creature before him, he kept them raised, ‘What in Illvatar’s name..?’

    ‘Awakesses are they, preciouss?’ the creature hissed.

    ‘Gollum!’ Gimli roared, raising his axe.

    ‘No!’ it screamed, raising its bony hands, ‘do not dwell in the passst! Don’t hurtsss us! I am not Gollum, I am one and alone in the darksses, jussst Smagol, don’t harm Smagol, what did Smagol ever do to you?’

    Gimli stayed his axe and Legolas even sheathed his blades. On that day it was certainly pity once again, no matter what evil tales they had heard, and also there was something else, perhaps brought on by those days of evil: a feeling of trust for this creature had been sent to Middle-Earth, the question was: by who, Illvatar or Melkor?

    ‘Smagol is here to helpsses the Heroes of Light, I wondersss why but does not assksss, never assksss. Smagol will follow and aid, if he is treated as Smagol deserves... I was the one that died with the Preciousss, Preciousss would be around ssstill if it weren’t for Smagol.’

    The creature went on and either he was trying to shut it up or he was telling the truth but Legolas said, ‘Alright but you do anything suspicious and it will be over!’

    They began to climb, Smagol leading them...

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: The Black Pit

    Twice Gimli lost his grip on the rock face and dangled before Smagol helped him and so when they reached the peak of the abyss the dwarf was irritated and tired, then he saw something that struck the fear of Illvatar into him:

    There had been a golden glow of light and now Gimli saw exactly what was the source of it. There were hundreds of the demons, smaller than their father but still as evil, each shrouded in darkness with manes of fire and swords and whips that were aflame.
    ‘Durin’s bane a thousand times! All is lost, the world will crumble and all be scorched under the Balrogs’ march to war and ruin and death!’ Gimli’s loud despairing echoed in the Black Pit and the creatures of fire turned in unison towards the source.

    The roar that ensued was deafening, the earth literally shook, stone plummeted from the ceiling, crushing some creatures. Gimli was rooted to the spot and the beasts were approaching. The Balrogs were fortunately young for, had they been elder, they would have had powers that no dwarf or elf could withstand. Legolas shot into one nine arrows to the heart at which point a searing light came from the creatures breast and it fell to the ground, smouldering.

    Seeing the fall of one beast Gimli ran forwards, leaping agilely into the air and bringing the axe down on the cranium of a beast. His victim roared and flung the dwarf aside, the axe had only cut through skin.

    A Balrog suddenly leapt at Legolas, knocking him to the ground and so the two were trapped, flaming swords raised above their heads.

    Part IV:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part IV: The Endless Stair

    ‘So the Black Lake connects to that cave system?’

    ‘All the caves connect young woman,’ the large (sideways that is) dwarf said.

    Alw looked down into the abyss, a golden glow stared back. She heard one word: Help. ‘They’re down there.’

    ‘How do you know?’ Bard asked.

    ‘I just do!’ Alw snapped, ‘Now, is there any way down there?’

    ‘Yes: Durin’s Tower.’

    Alw looked hard at the dwarf’s expression then, deciding he was being serious, asked, ‘It has been discovered?’

    ‘And rebuilt,’ the dwarf replied smugly, ‘I can lead you to the Endless Stair.’

    ‘Then do so fast for time is running out – for those people and this whole world!’ and saying that Alw mounted her steed and dragged the portly figure up in front of her. ‘Run, Arcel, show us speed.’

    Her horse heard her words and obeyed and the little dwarf screamed. Alw’s hair was flowing like a river behind her as she asked her companion his name, the dwarf gasped a reply: ‘Burfur.’

    They sped onwards, through carved halls and busy streets but amongst the blur of the populace Alw saw something else: soldiers and lots of them. ‘Turn left here!’ came Burfur’s cry and Alw passed on the order; they swerved into an alley and were confronted by a group of armed guards.

    A split second’s decision and Alw charged through them before they had time to protest her presence. They passed through the doorway that was being guarded and were now twisting down an endless flight of stairs.

    But its name was undeserving for it stopped at the roots of the earth. And now the full horror of their situation showed and Alw swallowed in fear whilst Burfur gave a cry of despair: ‘Durin’s bane!’

    He was wrong for that beast was long since slain but in front of them towered a demon of a height that showed it was an Elder, Alw’s tall steed almost reached the height of the demon’s ankle.

    Alw dismounted and calmly told Burfur and Arcel to retreat up the staircase for help. More than that would be needed.

    She stared up at the might of the Balrog and trembled in utter fear. The demon smelt this and roared but its opponent held firm, her sword ready to meet its.

    There was a clash of fire and steel as the sword of Alw met that of Gothmog.

    ‘This wasn’t in the dream,’ she said as fire raged above her.

    Part V:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part V: The Stand of Alw

    Alw struggled under the pressure of the great Balrog’s blade, her strength was dwindling and the heat was unbearable. Desperately she tried to summon more strength from her weakening body and she pushed back the fiery blade and swiftly rolled under it so that she stood between the creature’s legs.

    She knelt and suddenly time halted, literally. Above her the demon searched for its prey but to the west, where the cavern disappeared into the distance, Alw saw a white cloud of light enshrouding a tall but slender figure who seemed to be between dimensions. And as she looked, Alw saw that the cloud around the figure had stretched out to cover her, to protect her. Her danger overwhelmed her curiosity though and Alw swung her sword at a point above the Balrog’s left ankle, skin broke and blood, not unlike lava, flowed from the wound. Time had resumed and desperately the woman slashed and hacked at her opponent until, miraculously, the bones of its lower leg shattered. Why she could only guess and she thanked her blade that was of days long gone, of the First Age her father had said though she believed otherwise.

    But as the beast’s bones broke Alw faced another threat and dived out of the path of the falling demon. The earth shook as Gothmog fell but then something happened which occurred without explanation: Gothmog rose to his feet, his left leg as steady as its grip on its whip which suddenly lashed out, seizing Alw around her knees and dragged her to a position in front of the demon’s glowing eyes.
    And then there was an explosion of light and water as the words of the shrouded figure echoed in the cavern: ‘Nn o Moria, lasto beth daer, Rimmo nn Moria dan en Balrog o Morgoth!’ A great wave charged towards the demon of Melkor and smashed upon it like water on rock.

    But the fires were extinguished and steaming the Balrog looked back down the cave and saw the figure and roared, its whip released its prisoner and a soaked Alw fell to the ground, apparently unconscious.

    The figure halted a few feet from Gothmog and stared into the eyes of his foe. ‘Be gone, demon of darkness, your time is at its end as will be your master’s.’ That said the figure drew his shining sword and leapt at the demon, piercing its chest, but then the demon retaliated hurling the figure to the ground with a swipe of its mighty fist. The Demon raised its extinguished blade above the figures elf and roared, not in pleasure but in pain for Alw, Dnedain of Arnor, had jumped upon the crouched creature’s back and pierced it where there were no ribs but was instead the demon’s great heart.

    The Balrog roared and rose to its full height, throwing Alw to the ground. The figure jumped once again, his sword piercing the heart of the beast once more.

    His task complete he dropped to the ground and ran from beneath the demon’s falling corpse.

    Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, Son of Melkor, was slain.

    Part VI:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part VI: Reunion

    ‘Alw! Alw!’ Slowly the Dnedain regained consciousness and the first thing she saw was the figure’s fine elven face.

    ‘How do you know my name?’ she asked bluntly the elf as she rose to her feet unsteadily.

    ‘You are destined for at things Alw, and I – as a fellow Hero – was informed of your identity.’

    ‘Me?’ Alw asked bemusedly.

    ‘Yes,’ the elf said then paused and added, ‘Prophet.’

    Alw smiled for he knew of her talent, ‘Who are you?’

    The elf smiled in return and answered, ‘Glorfindel, High Elf of Gondolin.’

    Alw’s jaw dropped.


    Legolas acknowledged the fact that something was happening elsewhere, what else would cause the demons to scatter like startled sparrows?

    It was a few minutes since the beasts fled, as he tried to revive, Gimli that the elf saw a group of people approaching from down the cavern. He notched an arrow to his bow and waited for them to come into full view. But then he replaced the arrow as he recognised the Heroes.

    Beside him Smagol grinned and said, ‘Destiny, preciousss.’

    Part VII:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part VII:The Great Battle of Khazad-dm

    Boromir sat down in the Dwarrowdelf with his fellow heroes, all save Gimli who was taking command of his race. ‘I don’t believe these dwarves,’ the Gondorian said, looking at Legolas, ‘did they say it to me on purpose?’


    ‘If their numbers dwindle too low they will retreat to the Chamber of Marzabul where they “shall do battle with troll and goblin alike but keep away from skeletons in the well”.’

    Legolas laughed remembering their first adventure in Moria.

    Suddenly there came a shout from the tunnel that had been vacated due to the enemy invasion, a young dwarf rushed into the Dwarrowdelf, screaming that “the demons were coming”.

    All 400,000 heads turned towards the passageway from which there now issued an orange glow. There was a great clamour as the army assembled and the Heroes of Light moved to the front where Gimli waited impatiently for the enemy. Now there was silence as everybody waited for the inevitable and, with the shrieks of goblins, it came.

    Shadows flickered in the golden glow and then their casters appeared, diminutive but vicious. They fell under arrow and axe fire but their numbers were too great and they clashed into the army of light like water on rocks. The dwarves pushed the creatures back effortlessly and their losses were nonexistent for their armour was thick and their shields broad. The heroes struggled little as well for their resurrection had given them far greater stamina. Boromir and Thoden stood foremost among the enemy such was their eagerness to demonstrate their valour; but meanwhile Alw was still weary from her combat with Gothmog and she held back, she knew her sword would not truly be needed until the real demons came. Glorfindel stood amidst a ring of corpses, his elven skill showing as his fine blade swished smoothly and gracefully through the air.

    Suddenly the earth quaked and from down the tunnel there came the sound of drums, a dwarf cried out in fear, ‘They are coming!’ and then into the room poured a hoard of Balrogs, shrouded in fire and darkness and wielding swords and shields of flame. Alw gripped her sword tighter and knew this was when her sword was needed most. And so fire and Mithril clashed in a mle that would be remembered until the end of Dwarven days.

    Gimli roared and hewed the goblin before him in half then kicked aside its broken body. A Balrog rose up, casting fear into its enemies and friends as a raging inferno engulfed it, it brought down its sword upon the only dwarf not to cower and sparks flew as it was parried. Strength fuelled into his block, Gimli darted backwards so that his foe’s weapon fell to the ground, instantly he brought his axe down on the arm of the demon and flaming blood spurted from the wound. The dwarf was covered in it and cried out for it scolded him like boiling water. As the demon recoiled Gimli ran before it and brought his axe into the beast’s abdomen, crying out in agony his foe fell, crushing some fleeing goblins beneath it. Gimli finished it off with a blow to its neck and looked for the next demon of Melkor.

    Glorfindel swiped his sword through a goblin’s throat and rushed to faced a large Balrog that was approaching slowly, searching for easy prey. It saw the elf come within its reach and hurled its whip at the elf’s ankles. Glorfindel dived aside, his blade gliding through the hamstring of the demon; there by its leg he halted and twirled his blade above his head as only elves can, blood sprayed from the wounds, spattering the elf’s fine armour. Glorfindel jumped nimbly and grasped the demon’s shoulder where it was cool, with a slash of his sword blood was pouring from a deep wound in the back of the beast. There was a roar and then it could no longer fight, it collapsed in a cloud of dust and Glorfindel finalised its demise.

    Smagol’s days of hiding were over, the precious was gone and there was nothing he could do to reclaim it. He dived onto the back of large goblin and effortlessly broke its neck then ran on all fours in pursuit of another. In a leap he brought the creature to the ground and he wrapped his bony arms around its throat and squeezed it until it suffocated. Satisfied Smagol saw a troll next and, trusting his good fortune, ran behind the clumsy creature. But a leap onto the back of this beast did not fell it for it was too strong and instead it plucked Smagol from its back and examined him for a moment. Smagol, unhappy about his treatment, thrust a dangling leg at the creatures face and rather fortunately managed to jab the beast in one of its eyes with a toe. The troll roared and hurled poor Smagol to the ground who rolled to absorb the fall and turned with anger to face the creature. Another leap and he was hanging tightly onto the troll’s skull and sinking his teeth into its flesh. Another roar and the troll raised its sharp club and smashed it at Smagol. Blood spurted from deep wounds caused by the many spikes on the club and Smagol laughed in glee as he watched the troll topple. How could a beast be so stupid as to hit itself like that? Still laughing manically, Smagol ran and attacked another goblin.

    Thoden grimaced at the work of the sword but still fought well. His breastplate of Rohan was spattered red and his sword had lost its silver. He brought it down hard on a goblins neck and a head rolled aside. Suddenly a demon rose up above him and he dived aside as a flaming blade threatened his own throat. The former King of Rohan turned and ducked under another swing but this time he swiped his sword up through the air and through the Balrog’s smouldering arm. It stepped back, blood gushing out of the limb as if it was a fountain. Thoden gave one final thrust of his sword into his foe and its life was seeping away like its blood was into the cracks in the stone.

    Boromir decapitated the goblin before him and another took its place, threatening him with a spear. The Gondorian seized the shaft of the polearm and dragged it from his foe’s grip before impaling it on his sword. A shadow was cast upon him and he retreated from the approaching Balrog raising the stolen spear above his head. The demon suddenly roared and Boromir took a breath before hurling his spear at the beast, skewering it in its breast. With a bellow of agony the demon crashed to the ground, dead.

    In the distance Boromir saw Alw surrounded by foes and he called out as he saw her fall from view. Desperately he carved a path to the Dnedain who he found lying barely conscious due to exhaustion on the ground. He offered her a hand and she took it pulling her to her feet.

    ‘You need to rest,’ he said, pointing out the obvious and she disappeared into the ranks of dwarves. Boromir turned, raised his sword and cried, ‘For Gondor!’

    Part VIII:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part VIII: Exodus

    The foes had fled, their bodies and blood stained the stone, the Great Battle of Khazad-dm was over.

    Gothmog should have led them and had he done so things may have been different. As the dwarves cheered though Gimli was silent, he knew what he had to do and he knew that it did not matter. He called for silence and called to his companions, his kin:

    ‘Khazd! It is a great victory that has been won here today, the Dwarves have their revenge!

    ‘And yet this is no time for celebration. The fate of this world is in the hands of every being, fair and foul; I call now for your aid, your axes and shields, your courage... your lives... This hour is one to remember but if we do not fight again we will have naught to remember for this fair world will be gone.

    ‘This is the Eve of our Doom, for when this year ends the new one shall come and with it shall be the Dark Lord Melkor and all his servants. There was in history Dagor Vedui, the Battle said to end all, its numbers were exaggerated, the tales say of a million free-peoples fought for their lives. The decade to come will be far worse. Every dwarf, elf, man, hobbit, is destined to meet all the spawn of Morgoth on the Battle Plain of Dagorlad and only united shall we be victorious else we shall fall.

    ‘This is an hour of misery for every one of us for we must leave behind this fair home and fight. I, Gimli son of Gloin, Hero of Light, call now for an Exodus from our fairest Mansion... either way it will be in ruins when next they invade.’ Gimli turned away, a single tear in his eye.


    The following day the wildlife of Azanulbizar saw a strange sight as a great host of Dwarves emerged from the Eastern Door of Khazad-dm. They passed, with the appearance of mourners, down into the lower lands, passing the forest of the elves and following the River Anduin southwards.

    Gimli watched them go from fair Kheled-zram and then led the Heroes towards the tall trees of Lothlrien.
    That night the kin of Durin’s Bane overran Moria.

    Chapter VI: Separate Ways

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Separate Ways

    As Legolas and Glorfindel addressed the leader of the elves of Lrien the other Heroes slept peacefully in the shade of the trees. After Galadriel’s departure, Lothlrien had been vacated for two centuries until a small group of elves returned and re-established a colony there.

    The two elves were warning their kin of the war that would need them and also that, due to the fall of Khazad-dm, the High Pass near Imladris would need to be opened to give passage to Galadriel and the armies of Arnor.

    It was as the sun rose on the second day of their stay that the Heroes decided it was time to depart, but not together for time was running out and evil already festered in the south.

    And so it was that Boromir, Alw, Thoden and Smagol bade farewell to Legolas, Gimli, Bard and Glorfindel.

    The Fellowship was broken once more.

    Continued at Post 3
    Last edited by Inarus; February 07, 2012 at 06:17 AM.

  2. #2
    Maca's Avatar Decanus
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    Aug 2009

    Default Re: The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus

    Man you get through a lot of FF's, but that's a good thing, and this one is looking very interesting already.

    Just to clarify, is this in the fourth age, or will it be a fifth age of sorts?

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    Inarus's Avatar In Laziness We Trust
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    May 2009

    Default Re: The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus

    Book II: Heroes and Villains
    “Farewell, my brave Hobbits. My work is now finished. Here at last, on the shores of the sea... comes the end of our Fellowship. I will not say do not weep, for not all tears are an evil”
    - Gandalf the White
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    East of the Mountains

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Chapter VII: The Trees of Fangorn

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: The Call to War

    Boromir, Alw, Thoden and Smagol emerged from beneath the leaves of Lrien and beheld a sight that was natural and yet unnatural. Trees. They covered the mountainside straight down to the river and only a few feet separated this new forest from the forest of the elves.

    ‘How? This used to be rolling plains of grass and sunlight and now its just...’ Boromir’s voice trailed off. As much as he appreciated the forests of Middle-Earth he was shocked at how this one had grown so fast.

    ‘Shepherds of the Forest – Ents,’ Thoden stated in awe.

    ‘I thought they were just myths,’ Boromir said.

    They continued into the forest and the light faded to almost blackness, there was no wind, the air was cool but something stirred in the trees, rumblings accompanied the Heroes as they travelled further and further south.

    It was six days since they left Lrien (though it would only had been five if they had not wandered in circles frequently) when the land became greener and fairer, beautiful flowers emerged from the ground and birdsong could be heard above them. They camped that night in a clearing but refrained from the temptations of a fire for they knew all too well of the fury of the Ents.

    It was as they finished their meal of Lembas (given to them by the elves of Lrien) that there came the thud of heavy footsteps on the ground and they all turned to see a tall tree with a beard of leaves and moss, bark that looked old and weathered and eyes that had the accumulated wisdom of millennia.

    ‘Ah, hm, burah, hm*, what have we here? These are strange days to find such travellers in the heart of Fangorn Forest.’

    ‘Hail Treebeard, it is many years since last I saw your face,’ greeted Thoden, the only one to have previously encountered the Ent.
    ‘Hm, amidst all this chaos there appears the vision of a man I have not seen since... hm, since before the return of the Entwives: Thoden, son of Thengel!’


    ‘And that is what is supposed to happen,’ Alw finished and she watched the elder Ent’s reaction curiously
    ‘Hm... Hastily told my dear but I guess we have need for such haste. Tell me, what is the date?’

    Alw hesitated, ‘We left Lothlrien on the first of Lithe-’ suddenly Alw stopped midsentence and murmured, ‘why does that date sound familiar?’ She shook her head and apologised for losing the drift of the conversation, ‘Yes we left Lothlrien on Lithe the first but we lost track of time in this forest, the number of times we got lost.’

    Treebeard made a rumbling noise and exclaimed, ‘Then we have little time, you must sleep here for only one night and be gone in the morning. Meanwhile I must call my kin, we must march once more.’

    The Heroes lay down to sleep whilst Treebeard cupped his hands to his mouth and gave a cry that continued for hours, was heard throughout the forest, for many miles in all direction, from the borders of Eryn Lasgalen to the Gap of Rohan. And all those who heard, be it human, Ent or squirrel, all felt the calls sadness, its despair, for it spoke of exodus, of war, of death, of an End of All Things...
    Had there been an elf present, one who could understand the words in the call there could be a tale of the “Argument of the Ents”, in which the trees refused to move but Treebeard, eldest, persuaded them to leave using a tale of deep sorrow.

    Finally Treebeard and his kin fell silent and the Heroes slept peacefully on a blanket of twigs.

    * I must state that this text has transcribed the sounds of this Ent into onomatopoeic words.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: Curse or Gift?

    Boromir woke suddenly as he heard a choking sound. He rolled over and saw, to his distress, Alw fitting as if poisoned. He rushed over and tried to shake her conscious and as he did so he caught sight of her eyes: they were entirely black, almost like a demon had possessed her.

    Then she suddenly went limp and the darkness in her eyes dissipated and she awoke, gasping for air, still held in Boromir’s arms.
    ‘What happened?’ the Gondorian asked worriedly.

    Alw looked away and said, ‘I wish you hadn’t seen that.’ She rose to her feet, surprisingly steadily, ‘That is my curse, the darker side of visualising the future.’

    ‘What did you see?’

    ‘The Final March of the Ents, the death of the Hobbits, the burning of Fangorn, the Fires of Mount Mindolluin... the first minute of Dagor Dagorath.’ Boromir was silent and Alw laughed, ‘I can see what is destined to happen, doesn’t always but most of the times it does. And the things I see, some are happy, the joining of two people in love, but most are morbid, for what is going to happen in the future? We will die, that is the ultimate destiny. I saw my parents die in a dream and I woke up to the barbarians burning the city.’
    ‘Do you know your future?’ Boromir interrupted.

    Alw looked deep into his eyes and smiled, ‘No, but I know who I’ll love.’

    And she pressed her lips to his and they fell into each other’s arms.’

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: The Burning of Fangorn

    Alw awoke, her hair entangled with that of another’s, her arms still wrapped around Boromir.

    She rolled away else anyone would see them together and then rose to her feet, looking around to check everyone was still asleep. They were so she sat down again and watched Boromir for a few minutes. From behind a tree trotted her horse, Arcel; she patted its nose as he came close and murmured some elvish words. Arcel tossed his head disgruntled and looked away, Alw followed its gaze and saw that the Ents had moved aside to create a long corridor that stretched out to the southern horizon.

    There was the crash of Entish footsteps and Alw saw Treebeard emerge from the trees, ‘We must hurry! The foul undead breed of Saruman has come for revenge.

    And even as he said that Alw saw the red light of fires in the south and heard the cries of the trees.


    Many were skeletal save for a few strands of ligament twisted around aged bones; they hacked the trees with their rusty swords and hurled torches into their foe’s midst. As Alw approached the scene, followed by her companions, she saw the dark clouds coughed up by the Huorns and the Ents hurling heavy boulders at the incoming foe.

    They had ridden to the southern edge of Fangorn Forest which was many miles further south than it had been in the Third Age, there an undead party of about one hundred Uruks had launched a vengeful attack on the Trees and many trees now lay burnt to cinders.
    Boromir looked upon the enemy in silence, these were the breed that had defeated him, that had broken the Fellowship, that had risked everything; he spurred his steed into the enemy’s midst.

    From his seat on Treebeard’s shoulder, Smagol watched the raiding party of Uruks and madly leapt towards them. As Smagol fell, he seized an Uruk-Hai by the neck and dragged it down with him where he smashed its head against a rock. Another Uruk tried to grab Smagol from behind but Smagol was too fast, leaping upon the creature and savaging its neck. As one Uruk fell, good Smagol jumped on another, snapped its neck like a twig and moved on.

    A boulder smashed to the ground as Alw rode past the spot, showering her in debris of soil and stone. She arced her sword below her, severing skull from torso, a twist of her body and she stabbed an Uruk in its heart, she pulled out her weapon and smashed it down on a creature’s skull, spraying her in Uruk brain. Finally she was reunited with Boromir and side by side they fought, guarding the others flank and the Uruk wavered for never had they faced such a furious pair.

    And under a storm of stone and a rain of steel the undead Uruks of Saruman routed.

    Part IV:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part IV: Of Rohan and the Departure of the Ents

    ‘Farewell Treebeard, your journey shall be safe, that I can foretell, if only the destination would be the same. Cross the River Anduin at the South Undeep for there the water shall be safest and easiest to traverse, then make your way in a straight line to the Battle Plain of Dagorlad. Stay with the Dwarves when you encounter them, protect them from anything at all costs, they may bear axe but you share an equal and far greater foe.’ Those were Alw’s words and Treebeard gave a mighty cry and, from the hill on which the Heroes stood, they saw the forest move. It was so big a feature on the landscape that it seemed as if the entire world before them was marching eastwards with Treebeard leading them with his wife, Fimbrethil, striding beside him. It took the Ents and Huorns an hour to form into an orderly column and even longer for them to disappear over the horizon but by then the Heroes had galloped off to the plains of Rohan.

    They crossed the Westfold in two days; the lands were filled with small villages but they were all uninhabited, Thoden feared the worst. When sunset came (the light of the Lamps faded and relit according to times of the day) they were exhausted but the Hornburg was visible in the distance by the light of many torches.

    They rode up to the gateway, now reinforced by Mithril. ‘Who goes there and what is your business at this hour?’

    Thoden considered replying with their names and desires but realised there would be no significance in the names and their business was hardly believable. He remembered Galadriel had said some sort of password that was understood even by those who had no knowledge of its language, unfortunately he could not recite it.

    Alw’s voice suddenly sounded and it spoke words in Quenya, a language she could not speak but only Boromir saw her eyes to be black and her voice to be toneless. She said: ‘The hour is nigh, the Darkness has come and the free peoples will gather. The Earth will begin at the End.’

    And as it had worked for Galadriel, it worked for Alw and the gates parted.

    Chapter VIII: The Last Battle of Helm's Deep

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: The Demons Beyond the Glittering Caves

    ‘The Heroes of Light, of a legend yet to happen, you are most welcome.’ King Elus II greeted Thoden like a long lost brother, ‘We have a... situation.’


    The Glittering Caves did not glitter; instead there was a ruby red glow from deeper in the mines. The King led them deeper, into passages mined by the Dwarves when Gimli had first founded the colony and then into caverns discovered only the decade before the Darkness. In those deeper caves it was scorching hot and there was a rumbling sound... and then a crash...

    ‘What isss it, precious?’ Smagol asked, recoiling.

    ‘The “Wall to Death” the men and Dwarves call it; after repulsing the first horde they managed to block it up. But now the banging is starting again, just like it did before-’


    ‘Sound the bell!’ King Elus shouted and a nearby dwarf obeyed.

    Dong, dong, dong... bang!

    Human and Dwarven soldiers rushed into the cave.


    ‘Draw swords, Heroes of Light!’


    The wall exploded hurling stone and fire at the guardians of the Glittering Caves, Alw ducked as a boulder flew over her head and then she saw them, drifting towards them, arms outstretched, waiting for a deadly embrace. At first Alw thought they were Nazgl but then she realised that would be wishful thinking: The demons were shrouded in a cloud of night, their robes were of darkness, billowing behind them in an inexistent wind; their faces were gaunt, the skin tight to the bone, jet black hair hooded their heads and in their eyes Alw saw something she had never seen before, save in her childhood nightmares: an emptiness that held a power far beyond a human’s or an elf’s, were these gods?

    She blinked and suddenly there was one directly before her, its bony claws seizing her neck but there was no breath of life as it parted its jaws revealing regular teeth and two long, sharp fangs. There was a hiss and then her sword stabbed deep into its torso and it let out a shriek of agony and dissipated into darkness.
    ‘What are these things?’ Boromir cried out.

    ‘The Unnamed – or so they shall be until the tales of the 19th Century,’ came Alw’s senseless reply.

    ‘Everyone down!’ King Elus shouted and the Heroes dropped to the ground as over their heads sailed a barrage of Javelins. They struck the demons accurately in their hearts and the creatures halted mid-flight, spurted a torrent of blood out of their mouths then exploded, shooting flesh out in all directions.

    Alw rose to her feet, coated from head to foot in sticky, black blood, ‘Yuck!

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: The Retreat of the Dwarves

    ‘Casualties?’ King Elus asked a soldier grimly.

    ‘Just one, sire,’ the Dwarf indicated a covered corpse, ‘Bofur, he had a wife and two children.’

    The King nodded and announced, ‘Block up the passage as best you can, we must retreat; a new wall won’t hold them for long.’
    ‘But sire!’ The King turned to face the Dwarf who lowered his head, he should not have spoken out; the Dwarf finished anyway, ‘We have guarded these caves for centuries, we cannot abandon them!’

    ‘We must, for the future of this world,’ the King replied.


    They returned through the same caverns that had previously been quiet, now they were busy with Dwarves and a few men carrying their belongings from their homes, there were tears in the eyes of the women, children cried ceaselessly but it was all necessary.

    It took two hours for the evacuation of the Glittering Caves to be finalised and by then it was long past midnight. Then the banging sounded and it was louder now for it came from all directions. The soldiers retreated to the Hornburg where they guarded the gates from the enemy within. There was an explosion in the distance, and the Dwarves guarding the gates to the caves shivered in fear... then they were thrown from the barricade as on the other side the demons hurled themselves at it. The gate shuddered violently but resisted.

    ‘Wh-wh-what are th-they?’ a young man asked.

    Alw glanced in his direction but said nothing though she alone knew their names; instead she announced, ‘I would take up a spear, all of you, for only the blessed blades of the elves or the wood of the trees shall take these demons to their hell.’

    The soldiers glanced at her and obeyed for her black eyes revealed some hidden power that had to be obeyed; they hastily picked up a spear from the weapon stand by the gate. Alw unsheathed her silver sword and picked up a burning stake of wood from where it was positioned to cast light on the gateway, ‘Steady, men and Dwarves of Rohan! Hold the wood low so they charge onto the points!’
    There was a spray of splinters as the gate shattered and the demons flew into the ranks of stunned soldiers; but the infantry had held their weapons steadily in their foe’s path and the demons fell upon the sharp wooden points and shrieked and were destroyed in an eruption of entrails.

    Fear at their enemy’s knowledge of their weaknesses the demons withdrew into the darkness.

    Alw looked up at the sky, the night was failing and from a light was coming from east and west, ‘The Lamps are alight!’ she announced, ‘We must go, the demons fear the light of the sun more than goblins and so the sun shall give us safe passage.’
    ‘It may guard us from them but not all our foes fear the sun,’ said King Elus.

    ‘Then ride swift.’

    Chapter IX: The Exodus of Rohan

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: The White Rider

    ‘Arcel, run! In the name of the Valar, run!’

    With Alw’s cry the horse accelerated and the wind whipped through her hair giving her a feeling of strong exhilaration. But then the screeches broke the moment and Alw, grasping Arcel firmly around his neck, hurled herself from the saddle so she still hung by the beast’s throat. The chin of the Fell Beast of Melkor stroked the mane of Arcel as it passed over. ‘Slow, Arcel, let me back up, slow.’

    Smagol gripped his horse nervously, first he had to get used to riding such a beast now he had to duck, ride and outmanoeuvre the Wings of the Wraiths. But where were the wraiths, ey Precious? Lost in lands up north... hopefully.

    Above them the Fell Beasts circled, behind them pursued Wargs, biting at their heels and before them rose up Edoras, its stone walls still strong since they were built in the early Fourth Age. ‘There it is,’ announced King Elus, ‘Not far!’

    But the demons of the sky heard and belched out a stream of fire that cut the retreating army in half. Boromir came to a halt and looked back, ‘Alw!’

    Alw halted, a river of flame between her and him, ‘Go on!’


    Alw’s head shook violently and she repeated, her eyes black, ‘Go on!’

    Boromir obeyed.


    ‘This way!’ Alw ordered and the soldiers on their steeds followed her, desperate to survive. At first the Fell Beasts hunted the King and the Heroes who had avoided the fire but as they drew nearer to the Capital the bat-like beasts returned to where the lone Hero and her companions galloped for safety. Meanwhile the wargs were so close that some soldiers had already fallen prey to the foul beasts, Alw glanced back and spurred her stallion on and then a shadow fell on her and she looked up to see a Fell Beast that was Greater and Stronger than the rest and she knew, even though the rider was hidden by his steed’s shadow, that it was Melkor come for her.

    Then suddenly a blinding white light scorched the Fell Beasts and their cries were unbearable, Alw passed safely from under the Mount of Morgoth and the beast crashed to the ground- then suddenly it recoiled for it could not yet touch the earth.

    The Servants of the Great Enemy fled under the light and Alw looked upon her saviour.

    He was robed in white with long white hair and beard, Alw could not see his face for still the light blinded her, she presumed, ‘Gandalf?’

    The White Rider laughed in a voice of power and replied, ‘No, I am Saruman the White and I return to get my vengeance.’

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: The Golden Halls of Meduseld

    ‘You?’ Thoden’s surprise at seeing his old adversary was unmatched by any other’s.

    ‘Long ago we were friends, Thoden King, let us now forget the corruption I suffered at the hands of the One Ring.’

    ‘I don’t trust him!’ Boromir said, raising the point of his sword and pressing it to the White Wizard’s throat.

    ‘Do we not deserve a second chance, Boromir son of Denethor? After all, your part in the Fellowship was hardly... noble.’

    There was a flash of memories in Boromir’s mind “It is not yours, save by unhappy chance. It could have been mine! It should be mine! Give it to me!” ‘I redeemed myself, I defended the Halflings with my life!

    Saruman laughed.

    ‘Enough!’ Alw’s voice sounded and all looked upon her and her black eyes, ‘He can be trusted as long as Sauron does not offer gifts.’
    The subject changed with those words, King Elus asking how they could travel safely from Edoras to Osgiliath.

    ‘My light can hold off anything but how long I can sustain it I do not know. If we are swift I may be able to hold them but I think we need help from the Eagles.’

    ‘And how are we to call them? They live high in the mountains and will only obey either Radagast or Gandalf, neither of whom are present,’ Alw argued.

    ‘I can summon them, my voice travels far.’

    ‘And why would they obey you after the trouble you caused?’ Thoden asked.

    ‘Because we are the Heroes who are destined to save this Earth and we carry words that are understood and obeyed by all.’ Saruman left the Hall of Meduseld angrily and soon his powerful voice echoed outside.

    ‘This better work,’ Thoden grumbled, ‘is everyone ready?’

    King Elus nodded, ‘The towns east and west of here will have received the orders to evacuate and make for Osgiliath, we must go ahead of them to arrive first at Gondor and greet the King.’

    Alw shook her head, ‘I fear we will be too late, King Ernur the Second of Gondor will be dead when we arrive. Long ago Ernur the First disappeared into the darkness of Minas Morgul and was never seen again, and on the last day of this month it is destined that the Second Ernur will be found slain upon his throne and a newcomer shall take his place.’ She glanced at Boromir.

    ‘Then we must ride fast and stop it!’ King Elus said.

    ‘No my Lord, you cannot stop destiny.’

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: To Save a King

    The Horses from Hobbiton were lame from their restless travels and the stables of Edoras could only spare one steed so Alw and Boromir rode on Arcel whilst Thoden and Smagol rode on the horse of Rohan.

    The first week of their journey saw the Heroes pursued by the Fell Beasts but the Light of Saruman kept them at bay. But as the Lamps awoke a fortnight after they left Edoras, as they passed into the Gondorian province of Anrien, the White Wizard’s light faded ultimately and the beasts of Melkor swooped down, hungry for blood.

    One scorched a ring of fire around the Heroes whilst its companions plunged from the skies in an attempt to pluck a horse from the ground. Alw took her bow from her back and loosed an arrow into a nearby demon’s breast. With a roar it withdrew, leaving more space for its fellows to manoeuvre in.

    Desperately Alw looked around and saw a breach in the wall of flames, ‘Hold tight,’ she murmured to Boromir and, before he could object, she spurred Arcel forwards. The fire suddenly leapt up, sensing an enemy’s presence but Arcel could not stop and charged headlong into the fire.

    As she passed through, Alw felt a strange sensation come over her, a warmth so strong it dried her mouth, her hair seemed to be aflame but she felt stronger, more powerful. Her eyes were black and she was no longer herself but a passenger to some strange being that controlled her body and urged her steed to charge on, to leave her companions.

    Her horse carried them further along the road and came to a rise, he climbed the hill and stopped, turning and allowing his riders to look back at the scene.

    As the Heroes struggled with the ring of fire the roars of Melkor’s minions had awakened the Eagles and in a storm of winds they departed from their mountain nests and fell upon the Fell Beasts. Under the shadow of the airborne combatants the remaining Heroes escaped the cage of flames.

    ‘We must go,’ said the possessed-Alw and without receiving objection she turned her steed and they galloped off into the Lands of Gondor.


    They passed the forest of Dradan and followed the road to Rammas Echor. They skirted around the edge of the outer walls and onto the Pelennor road between Minas Anor and Osgiliath. Arcel finally stopped.

    ‘It is with great pride and joy that I look at last upon the cities of my forefathers in all their glory, even Osgiliath stands strong,’ Boromir said. Minas Anor was gleaming whiter than the snow on the Mountains and the dominated the space between the White Mountains and those of Seindor.

    Alw counted the days and said, ‘It was said that the King would die on the last day of this month, but it is only the twenty-eighth today!’

    She spurred Arcel onwards and the great strong walls of Osgiliath soon loomed above them, Alw shouted the Password of the Heroes and hurtled through the streets as soon as the gates were open, they passed beautiful marble edifices, houses of great stature and monuments to the Kings long dead. They reached the Palace and in its courtyard there stood a tall Obelisk with the name of one man carved into it and plated with gold:

    King Aragorn I Elessar of the House of Telcontar

    Alw pulled on her steed’s reins and jumped from the saddle, she rushed the door, demanding to see the King and saying the Password. The Guards nodded, he was free to see such people of great standing. The two Heroes entered swiftly and the Guard’s followed. Ahead was a grand door and beyond it the throne room, Alw pushed open the door, ‘My Lord, I am-’

    She stopped dead – but not as dead as the King whose torso sat majestically on his throne whilst his head lay several feet away on the marble floor.

    Meanwhile a dark figure escaped from the same window through which he had entered, a long bloody knife grasped firmly in his sticky hand.

    Chapter X: The Last Steward of Gondor

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: Assassin

    Alw grimaced as she realised she was standing in a pool of blood. ‘Too late, you cannot stop destiny,’ she turned around, ‘Boromir?’ He was gone.


    Upon seeing the fleeing assassin, Boromir dashed from the palace and ran around the side; he caught sight of his quarry disappearing into a wall of bushes and pursued. The Gondorian dived through a hole in the bushes and emerged in a large garden with a grand fountain in its heart. For a moment there was silence save for the splash of water. Suddenly something leapt on his back and he reached for his sword, pulling away from the man, the assassin.

    The assassin was cloaked in black and his eyes were equally dark, in his hand he grasped a long knife. Boromir leapt at the man and steel clashed, but Boromir’s blade slid up towards the knife’s hilt and cut into the assassin’s hand. The man gave a cry of pain and dropped his weapon, ‘Please, don’t!’ he begged when threatened with the point of Boromir’s sword.

    Boromir withdrew his blade and the assassin pulled his hands to his mouth in what appeared to be a plea for mercy- then he started spluttering silver saliva. Boromir cursed, poison, but he could not save the man, why should he? Information? He heard his name being called and looked to where Alw was searching for him.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: Pillow Talk

    Boromir walked his fingers affectionately up Alw’s naked back. ‘Stop that,’ she said and she rolled over to face him, ‘We have better- sorry, more important things to be doing than making love.’

    Boromir sighed and relaxed, staring up at the ceiling, ‘What is more important? Gondor has no leader for us to treat with, we must wait several months for all the armies to assemble for war and we must wait even longer for us to have a foe to face.’

    ‘Gondor has a leader! You are the Heroes of Light, you are to lead your people not stand under their King!’

    Boromir faced Alw and shook his head, ‘No, how can I lead a people who have never heard of me? How can I lead when that King had others to take control after him?’

    ‘The tales of the Third Age have been retold countless times, Gondor remembers her heroes and in her history two stand out during the War of the Ring: You and Aragorn. Your last stand has been re-enacted on every stage in the Kingdom and your ability to lead soldiers to their doom – and win – will inspire any man to serve with obedience. Boromir you would have been a Steward and so you shall be again: the Last Steward.’

    Boromir laughed, ‘It is fine for you to say such things when we lie here, others will not be so loyal.’

    ‘We lie here for love and the fact that this is a bond that has a foreseeable end. In ten years time we will be no more, erased by a new race of humans, elves and dwarves. We have only to seek some happiness before the end.’ Alw rose from bed and picked up a robe from the floor and wrapped it around herself. She moved to the window where there was a view of the rooftops of the City. ‘All those people know the end is nigh and know that if they do their part and win they will have a second chance in the world to come. They will trust anyone as long as he is brave and strong, willing to lead...’ she felt Boromir move close and caress her, ‘... and handsome.’

    And she turned and kissed him in the fading light.

    Back in the West

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Chapter XI: Eriador

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: The Road to Hobbiton

    ‘What do we do?’ Pippin cried out as the wolves closed in.

    Suddenly, out of nowhere, an arrow hurtled into the heart of an approaching wolf, fearing another enemy the hobbits searched for its source but saw nothing.

    Then there was a whooshing sound as a thousand shafts glided gracefully through the air felling the hungry beasts, they were accurately fired and every one met its mark, the surviving wolves scattered with howls of rage.

    A tall man of noble lineage with dark hair and pale skin approached the hobbits, his face was fair, the fairest ever seen in the Elder Days and his eyes were grey as his mother’s but shone bright like silver and were cold and piercing like his father’s. ‘Hail Halflings, I am Trin Turambar, bearer of the sword Gurthang and hopefully one day the prophecy shall be complete and I shall run it through the heart of Morgoth Bauglir.’

    Bilbo nodded in recognition and thanked him. Trin then said, ‘I must speak with the Lady Galadriel fellow Heroes, where is she?’

    ‘She is in Imladris, awaiting your return Master of Fate. We too must go but west to rally our people.’


    The Hobbits continued to Bywater where they rented lodgings in the Green Dragon. In his room Bilbo sat at the desk with his heavy book, The End of All Things, before him, opened at the first page, he raised a quill and wrote:

    Of Dagor Dagorath – The End of All Things

    By Bilbo Baggins

    ‘What are you writing?’ Pippin asked him curiously.

    Bilbo flicked over a page and wrote, Foreword, then he faced Pippin to answer the question, ‘I am the Keeper of Knowledge, not a soldier, and my task is to write down the tale of us, the Heroes, precisely as it happens. This book holds many tales: Of the Lord of the Rings, There and Back Again, Ainulindal, Valaquenta, Quenta Silmarillion, Akallabth, Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age, those are just a few. I must document the last so that it is preserved and those that live long after us know of the sacrifice of the peoples of Middle-Earth. Now do not disturb me for I shall not leave this room until it is time.’ And then his eyes clouded over, black as if he was possessed and to the page he wrote eternally until the moment before the world changed.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: Destined to Kill a Lord

    ‘Hail Trin son of Hrin, it has long been prophesised that you should return,’ Galadriel greeted.

    ‘And kill Him. I know it too well but how do I slay a god?’

    ‘Melkor sacrificed his divinity long ago, he is mortal but should he take once again the Silmarils he will gain everlasting life.’

    ‘That is unlikely; they rest still beneath the earth.’

    ‘But it is also prophesised that the earth shall break and spew out the Jewels of Fanor.’

    ‘They shall return?’ Trin was alarmed.

    ‘Yes and if you do not succeed in acting out your destiny the Silmarils will decide the future of this world, they will have to be taken to the Shire but for what purpose I do not know.’

    Laughing Trin said, ‘You don’t know!’

    ‘No one, not even Alw who has the power to see the future, knows how this will end, but I fear her fate shall decide the human race’s.’

    ‘You fear?’

    ‘Just don’t fail Trin, son of Hurin, you are destined to kill a Lord, fulfil it.’

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: Call to Arms

    ‘Fellow Hobbits, these are dark days and the Darkness that was lightened will return if we do not defend it!

    ‘I plead to you all, to rise up and do your part because a war is coming and every species is destined to fight for their freedom! Will you join them?’

    ‘This is not a war of the Big People – though they shall certainly fight – this is a war for us all, for if we lose we will lose all these fair lands, the gardens, the pipeweed. If you, in your ignorance and cowardice, back out of this battle and we lose – which we will if we stand unaided – then all the dark things that have ever lived shall pour into these beautiful fields and each and every one of you shall be slaves to a merciless Lord of Darkness: Melkor.

    ‘The world is changing, you know for you have felt it. This here is your chance to give the Hobbits a name worthy of the elves or men of old!

    I plead to you now, to follow me to a battle for the defence of justice, of peace, of our freedom! Fight and the world shall live on in light and glory!’

    Merry fell silent and descended from the speaking platform and the crowd of Halflings commenced a loud conversation. Then a hobbit moved over to talk to Merry, ‘Where do we join you?’

    In Rhovanion

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Chapter XII: The Spiders of Eryn Lasgalen

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: Something is Out There

    Legolas notched an arrow to his bowstring and, peering into the night, announced, ‘Nad no ennas.’

    Gimli grumbled and raised his axe, ‘Put two pointy-ears together and you can’t understand a word they say.’

    ‘It was your father that was one of the thirteen dwarves that got lost in here, wasn’t it?’ Bard asked.

    ‘Aye, Gloin. And for that I am not going near any springs, streams, rivers or wine,’ the dwarf looked upwards from where there was the sound of rain pattering on the leaves.

    Glorfindel unsheathed his sword and it shone silver in the darkness, highlighting a shape ahead on the road. ‘Spawn of Ungoliant!’
    Legolas stared long at the giant spider and shook his head, ‘No, it’s the demon herself!’ And suddenly the spider leapt at them and from the trees came her young and they surrounded the Heroes and lusted for their blood.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: The Thirteen

    Dwalin crouched to examine the indentations in the ground. ‘What are they?’ Balin asked him.

    ‘Footprints of some kind of beast.’

    Bifur grumbled, ‘Where are we?’

    ‘Well... out of all our adventures I think we have been sent to Mirkwood,’ Thorin replied.

    Oin shook his head, ‘No, it’s far too light.’

    ‘It was cleansed after the downfall of the Necromancer though’ Gloin said.

    ‘Let’s follow the tracks, they may lead us to the road,’ Thorin announced.

    ‘Or to their nest, these marks were made by spiders.’

    ‘Well we’ve learnt a bit about dealing with spiders since our last encounter.’

    They followed the tracks cautiously and after a while of ducking under low branches and leaping across streams a sound greeted the thirteen dwarves, the hiss of spiders in the night. The trees thinned and they emerged in a clearing in the centre of which stood a lone tall tree from which hung four sacks of silvery thread, three big, one small. From the smallest came the muffled, outraged cries of a Dwarf.

    ‘Those beasts are at it again! Cut them down before the spiders return,’ Thorin ordered and a few axe throws later the sacks of web dropped to the ground with loud shouts of pain. ‘Let me loose spiders and I’ll show you why never to anger a dwarf!’ said the smallest sack which was cut open to reveal Gimli. ‘Father what kept you?’ he demanded as he brushed a string of web from his beard. Gloin laughed and embraced his son.

    They released the other Heroes and Legolas examined his surroundings, ‘I think I recognise this glade, this way!’ They followed, as did the spiders.

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: Ungoliant

    They walked for over a mile and then the trees parted once more and the Heroes stood in a large clearing. Legolas, satisfied, pointed to the north of the glade where a dirt track disappeared into the trees.

    Suddenly there was the crash of falling trees and from the west there came a dark shape and it broke through the wall of trees and fell upon Thorin, threatening him with its stinger. The dwarf roared in fury and hacked his axe into the beast’s abdomen.

    ‘It’s Ungoliant!’ Legolas shouted as he notched an arrow to his bow, the creature recoiled from Thorin’s axe and Legolas loosed his arrow and watched it soar into the open wound.

    There was a screech and Gimli rushed forwards and as Ungoliant lowered her head the dwarf brought his axe down upon it. However at the last moment she withdrew and flicked a limb into Gimli’s chest, sending the dwarf flying into the trees. Gloin tried to defend his son but in his hurry he too was hurled away. Ungoliant now rushed forwards and only swift movement allowed the Heroes to escape her. But one hero was too slow and Ungoliant managed to pin him to a tree. Bard pushed himself up and away from his foe’s deadly pincers and screamed as one seized his leg.

    There was a flash of silver as Glorfindel’s blade sliced through the air and through Ungoliant’s neck. It was only an inch deep cut but the blood that flowed was fast and sticky. Ungoliant could take no more and fled into the forest leaving a trail of devastation and blood.

    The Heroes moved around Bard who lay on the grass, blood pouring like a stream from his maimed leg. Glorfindel examined the wound and murmured, ‘I can stop the blood flow but no elven power will restored to the state it once was, your leg is useless, such is Ungoliant’s poisonous bite.

    Chapter XIII: The First Casualties

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: The Palace of Elven King

    Their steeds had been lost or eaten and so the Heroes carried Bard themselves as they journeyed to the Palace of the Elven King of Eryn Lasgalen. They reached the Palace to find it deserted and puzzled they considered the only possible alternative: the elves had gone to Dale. Weary they searched the stables and found it empty of steeds; then they heard Bard shout out.

    They rushed to the entrance hall where they found the Palace besieged and Bard distressed. Spiders had surrounded the palace and there was no escape, not against those numbers. ‘What do we do,’ Bard asked.

    ‘Fight?’ Gimli suggested but even he had sense enough to know that was suicide.

    ‘We cannot escape, this place has more defences that were ironically designed to keep the danger out.’

    ‘Not even through a window?’ Kili asked.


    Thorin scratched his head, an idea forming, ‘You aren’t going to like this but there is one way out.’ And his face was torn between regret and amusement as he added, ‘The wine cellar.’

    Legolas laughed despite the situation.

    It was the only option and so they retreated to the cellar where there lay the trapdoor that over two millennia ago had been used by Bilbo to smuggle himself and the thirteen dwarves from the dungeons of the elves.

    ‘No,’ Bombur protested, ‘not again!’

    ‘Bofur listen to me,’ Thorin reassured him, ‘you aren’t going in the barrel, just holding on tight until we reach Esgaroth.’

    And so one by one the dwarves passed through the trapdoor, each grasping a barrel, a splash and they were gone. Thorin was the last of the thirteen to go and then into the room rushed Glorfindel, his sword bloody, sweat dripping from his body. ‘They’re coming, I could not hold them anymore, hurry!’

    Legolas nodded and helped Gimli into the rushing water below then, seizing a barrel dragged himself and Bard into the water. ‘Hurry Glorfindel!’

    All he heard in reply was the screech of spiders and the slash of steel then, ‘I will hold them here else they pursue, farewell son of Thranduil!’

    And he was never seen again whilst Ungoliant walked the world.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: A Gathering for War

    Despite remaining conscious throughout the journey by barrel, Legolas remembered naught of it. He wept at the thought that Glorfindel may be lost but tried to convince himself that he still lived, despite being certain of the fact that the elf was dead.

    The icy water lapped against Bard’s legs but he only felt the sensation in one of them. The water about him was murky but as he thought about it all he saw was dark crimson, was this death?

    Finally the barrels touched land and the Heroes struggled ashore, Bard helped up by the dwarves. They now made the long journey north, past Esgaroth to the capital where, after saying the Password of the Heroes, they were admitted and led to the Lord’s lavish abode.

    ‘The Heroes of Light have come!’ a guard announced them and they entered into a large room with timber beams and panelled walls. In the centre sat Erland the Lord of Dale, Durin the Last (the exact number of Dwarf Lords named Durin was lost count of two centuries ago), Erdril II the Elven King and several advisors of each race.

    ‘Hail Heroes, we have long expected you, our armies have mobilised and are ready to march but first we must deal with a coming threat, dragons have returned to the Withered Heath and it is only a matter of time before they return to destroy us.’

    And as Lord Erland finished speaking from the distance there came the clamour of the town bell and a young guard rushed into the room, ‘My Lords, the dragons have come!’

    Then the screams sounded.

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: The Stand of the Heroes

    One by one they mounted their borrowed steeds and rode off into the night for when the dragons had struck the Lamps had dimmed. They galloped to a where the lands rose high above the city, below the Lonely Mountain. From his steed Bard watched in anger as the dragons rained fire down on the settlement. ‘Spawn of Glaurung!’ the bowman cried out but the beasts did not hear him. Infuriated he notched an arrow to his bow and stared down the shaft, his fingers twitched and the projectile hurtled through the air, into the darkness.

    A moment of silence then a shriek sounded in the air, then a crash and in the light of the fire the Heroes saw a cloud of dust emerge from a dark shape that lay in the burning city’s midst. ‘How?’ Legolas asked, astounded at such marksmanship.

    ‘There is much time to practice when you are dead,’ Bard replied as he watched the dragons turn from the devastation and fly in their direction. ‘Here they come.’

    Gimli nodded and roared loudly, ‘Khazd!’ There was a rumble of heavy footsteps and the Gates of Erebor were thrown open and from the Halls marched the entire army of the Lonely Mountain Clan, armed to the teeth in the finest Mithril and chanting dwarfish war songs in a low rumble. ‘Brothers,’ Gimli growled as the army drew close, ‘This is the hour of our revenge against these demons of fire, axes ready, man the catapults and let them know that we have learnt much since last we fought. Baruk Khazd! Khazd ai-mnu!

    And as Gimli roared the battle cry his kin roared it also and those at the rear triggered the catapults of war and flames shot through the sky. Dragons were drawing close and many fell under a fiery barrage, more catapults were set off but these carried barrels that burst mid-flight releasing a storm of water upon the dragons, extinguishing their flames and dampening their bodies.

    The dwarven infantry reached for their crossbows from their backs and aimed them into the sky. Then the bolts were loosed and the unanimous clang of the release echoed across the fields, the bolts shot through the air and struck the smouldering beasts all over their bodies, striking holes in their armour, ripping their wings to shreds and blinding them; already the number of dragons was reduced to a quarter of the original number.

    Then the dragons’ descent began and they crashed to the earth for either their wings were shredded or they could not see to fly. Dwarves were squashed underfoot but as soon as the landing was over the dwarves leapt upon their foes, hacking steel into scale. One dragon plummeted towards the Heroes and Bard pulled his bowstring to his eye. Twang and the arrow was gone and the dragon spiralled out of control for it was pierced through its heart. But still it kept a straight course, straight towards the Heroes and they scattered save for Bard who was to slow for his maimed leg impeded his riding.

    There was a neigh from Bard’s horse, a scream from the rider, a roar from the dragon and it was dead, Bard crushed beneath its corpse.

    Part IV:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part IV: Black Arrow

    Bard coughed and tasted blood. This was the End.

    For several minutes, as the battle raged around him, the master bowman slipped in and out of consciousness; by the time he woke for the final time he lay in an inch deep pool of his blood.

    There was a distant roar and a crimson dragon of great majesty swooped through the sky, spreading fire and death down upon the dwarves below. His chest was encrusted with jewels and glittered in the firelight but one spot didn’t and it was black and undefended, weak to an arrow. He was the dragons’ leader, the last to arrive, he was Smaug and he would get his vengeance on the bowman if it was the last thing he did.

    Bard saw the colossal beast and recognised it instantly, ‘Smaug!’ he stammered, spitting out flecks of blood. A figure obscured his view, Legolas; the elf pressed his hands to Bard’s waistline, the lowest point of his body that was not trapped under the dead dragon.

    ‘You are protected, the gods have given me the power to save you, your legs will heal when the dragon is removed, just survive this battle.’

    ‘B-but... s-smau-aug.’

    ‘My archery isn’t too bad, let me.’ And Legolas moved away.

    ‘No! Pass m-me m-my b-bow a-and the Bla-ack Arr-row!’

    Legolas obeyed reluctantly then vanished.

    Smaug still circled above and Bard was reassured that there was no longer any pain in his legs- or did that mean his legs were lost altogether? There was a tingling sensation in his abdomen but he ignored it and raised his bow above him and notched the Black Arrow to the string, it took him three attempts to do so. Now he stretched the string and drew it back to his ear, and now all his strength was in his arms and his mind was clouding over like a stormy sky, Bard’s eyes closed but suddenly he was awake again. He tightened the bowstring and stared down the shaft, closing one eye.

    Smaug looked down and his keen eyes caught sight of a man, trapped beneath its kin’s corpse, but the man was alive and was grasping a bow and arrow.

    A Black Arrow.

    Smaug roared and halted mid air and above his mortal foe he hovered, preparing in his throat a flame that would toast his enemy until he screamed and breathed his last.

    Bard stared down the shaft, and realised he could not move his arm, it was frozen in place, and weariness was coming to him. A bit to the left and the dragon would be as good as dead. ‘Arrow!’ repeated the bowman, just like he did the last time he faced the mighty dragon. ‘Black arrow! I have saved you to the last. You have never failed me and always I have recovered you. I had you from my father and he from of old. If ever you came from the forges of the true king under the Mountain...’

    A gust of wind blew across the battlefield.

    Smaug drifted a bit then was still.

    The dragon kindled a flame.

    Bard twitched his fingers.

    ‘...Go now and speed well!’

    The Black Arrow shot vertically into the sky.

    Smaug roared in pain, armour pierced once more.

    He would get his vengeance on the bowman if it was the last thing he did.

    And from the skies fell Smaug the Magnificent and like a stone he dropped, landing in a cloud of dust, upon Bard the Bowman.

    Crushing him, ultimately, to death.

    Part V:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part V: Farewell to a Hero

    The dwarves heaved aside the dragons’ corpses to reveal the greatest bowman of Dale. His corpse was pale, cold already, bathing in its own blood.

    A tear trickled down each Hero’s cheek. The thirteen dwarves raised the body and carried to a prepared pyre of wood and rested their fallen companion upon it. Legolas moved over and closed Bard’s eyes and murmured, ‘Hiro ho hdh ab ’wanath,’ - may he find peace after death.

    Gimli took a flaming torch and looked at Legolas, ‘ready?’ The elf nodded and Gimli lowed the torch, flames leapt up, blackening the body.

    Suddenly a silvery spectre rose from the flames, a ghost of the dead man. At first Legolas thought he was seeing things but no, it spoke, ‘Farewell child of Thranduil, beware the Mmakil, I will see you in the afterlife, then maybe I may just return to have my part in one of the future’s greatest archery contests!’ The spirit laughed then dissipated.

    The following day the people of Eryn Lasgalen, Dale and Erebor marched from their homes, never to see them again.

    Galadriel’s Road

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Chapter XIV: The Road to Lorien

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: The High Pass

    Galadriel looked upon the snowy peaks and feared how they would treat her followers.

    A wide road snaked up the mountain side and several miles along it they were now at an elevation of eight thousand feet and the snow was thick underfoot. The Lady Galadriel rode at the front of the long line of Hobbits and Men of Arnor and Elves of Beleriand. The Dwarves of the Blue Mountains had a decade ago departed to reinforce Khazad-dm and the Elves of the West and moved into the East or gone over the seas.

    There was the sound of two horses galloping swiftly up the hill and Galadriel turned back and saw Merry and Pippin approach. ‘The hobbits are weary and hungry, my Lady,’ Merry announced and Galadriel hesitated.

    ‘We camp here for the night but when the sun sets tomorrow we must be descending the eastern slopes.

    It was a cold and bitter night but the worst was yet to come: when they awoke the next day the snow was almost covering them and two hobbits had died from being encased in a snowy coffin. A burial was hardly necessary and so with dampened spirits the armies continued the ascent. A chill wind blew westwards and the road was lost under two feet of snow, winter had come early. By the time they were half a mile from the summit the wind had become a storm of hailstones that battered the people of the west until they were in unbearable pain.

    But as Pippin’s steed was a few feet from the summit the horse passed through a ceiling in the icy mist and Pippin looked around and saw a clear view of the summits of Middle-Earth’s highest mountains resting alone on a sea of cloud. Galadriel rose to the peak beside him and looked around, she murmured some words of the elves and the storm ceased and the cloud dissipated and all the lands from the trees of Eryn Lasgalen to the summit of Amon Sl were laid out around them. The two hobbits gasped in awe.

    Galadriel let her magic go and the mists return and the armies descended through the roof of the cloud and back into the storm of the mountains.

    The wind whistled in their ears, gnawed their ears until they were sore from the cold and sent sudden blasts of air in an attempt to force them off the mountainside. When the sunset over their camp they were out of the snow but a total of thirteen hobbits, seven men and two elves were slain by the mountain. Their bodies lay under metres of snow or at the foot of sheer cliffs.

    A small sacrifice out of the millions of free-peoples that were marching south.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: The Fires of Lorien

    Galadriel rode to the summit of a small hill and looked upon the tall trees of her home, Lothlrien.

    She galloped from her followers and deep into the trees searching for settlement where she would find her successors. She reached the mallorns of Caras Galadhon and rode into the heart of the city. Several questions rushed through her head: Why had she not been greeted by the elves at the High Pass? Had the Heroes not asked the elves to aid her there? Where were the elves? Had they marched to war already? Was that blood on the ground? What’s that mound in the distance? Is that burning flesh?

    And Galadriel received the answers in one shocking sight: beneath the tallest mallorn, piled high and alight, sending out a strong stench of death, were corpses. There were so many corpses that the pile was taller than an ent, its fires were spreading to neighbouring trees and the forest was in threat of being aflame.

    Galadriel’s steed threw her from the saddle and bolted from the fire but the Lady did not care, she just knelt on the ground and wept for in all her years she had suffered much sadness and it all accumulated to an unbearable degree.

    The trees all around her were alight but Galadriel still was indifferent. All the elves of Lorien were slain and the Orcs were successful. Not far away the army of Melkor’s minions stood and watched the fire spread, then they turned and began their journey to Mordor.

    The pyre of the elves was utterly alight and as the flames deepened into its centre they sparked the barrel of blackest powder and suddenly it erupted in a ball of flame that spread throughout the trees. It died down quickly and all was a field of ash and charcoal in the midst of which rose a scattered mass of blackened bodies. One lay apart from the rest, her fair face scorched, almost beyond recognition.

    The Lady Galadriel’s spirit rose from the corpse and dissipated into sparks of light that parted in the wind

    The Battle Plain of Dagorlad

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Chapter XV: New Year’s Eve

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    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: The Fires of Mount Mindolluin

    Alw awoke and rose from her bed, from a wardrobe she took a robe and wrapped it around her naked body then she looked outside. It was the early light of dawn. She awoke Boromir, suddenly realising the date. It was the last day of the year.

    They washed briefly, awoke the others and as the third hour of light came to Gondor the Heroes were mounting their steeds. They rode first to the Field of Cormallen where there was camped the entire army of Gondor, Rohan and Arnor. ‘Now is the hour, people of freedom, to march to our final war! Today the year ends and it is up to us to see it live on!’ Boromir, Steward of the Reunited Kingdom, kept it brief and then they were ready. The army mobilised and began the march.

    But then the earth shook and it was not the unanimous footfalls of over ten million warriors. Everyone stopped and turned.

    In the distance, standing out clearly in the light of day towered Mount Mindolluin, rising high above Minas Anor. It’s peak was bald of snow and was visibly shaking as if something was trying to force its way out of the summit. And then the peak exploded sending rock flying for miles around and when the debris fell they saw the rivers of flame pouring out of the summit, running down the sides as if it were a volcano. Deep beneath the earth the molten core was expanding, pressing the fires of the planet outwards so that somewhere the earth would break.

    Mount Mindolluin was only the first to explode, soon Caradhras was resembling an active volcano, and then Mount Gundabad and Erebor in the north. The mountaintops were breaking and the world was coughing up all that was lost in its heart. Fear struck the soldiers of Light but they were rallied and spurred on. Naught could be done; it was only a mark of the end. The lava flow would cease in time.

    By midday the armies of Light were assembled on Dagorlad.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: The Last Hour of Peace

    Present were the Hobbits, the Men of Arnor, the Dwarves of the many Kingdoms, the Elves of Eryn Lasgalen, the Men of Gondor, the Elves of Beleriand, the Men of Rohan, the Heroes of Light. Everyone was present and the numbers were so great that no one had time to count them. One can only say there were millions, maybe even a billion. Even those that can see all cannot speculate the numbers. There were not only men but women too, dressed in armour and as brave as the men. Eagles soared above in the sky and before the walls of Mordor they all waited. It was the last hour of peace.

    Boromir and Alw sat on their steeds ahead of the camp. ‘How many will the enemy bring?’

    Alw shook her head, ‘I cannot say. We will be reinforced though, the men of the early ages have not come yet nor the dwarves, the wizards too will come,’ then quietly she added, ‘This is not right, they should be here.’

    The other Heroes joined them: Thoden, Smagol, Saruman, Legolas, Gimli, Merry, Pippin, Trin, Thorin, Dori, Nori, Ori, Balin, Dwalin, Fili, Kili, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bombur and Bofur. Silently they waited, there was darkness throughout the lands, midnight was coming.
    Half an hour to go.

    Suddenly there was a deafening eruption as Orodruin exploded, sending flames flying for miles. There was a rain of fire and the earth was quaking once more and then several strange things occurred:

    From Mount Doom’s fires a large stone crashed to the ground before the Heroes, many leagues south a giant wave formed in the sea and this tsunami hurtled north, rising the waters of the Anduin and the banks broke sending a wave of water onto the Battle Plain. A large stone washed ashore beside the Heroes. From the sky a star fell and it plummeted to the ground and lay dead at the hooves of the Heroes’ steeds.

    The fallen star was Erendil and he was dead.

    There was a stunned silence in which Gimli dismounted and examined each stone in his hands. Alw jumped to the ground and asked for them, her eyes black. Gimli obeyed and in Alw’s hands the stones shattered revealing two beautiful gems.

    Boromir dismounted now and from Erendil’s helm he took the stone that was the star and handed it to Alw who received them and held together in one hand the stones shone with a light as powerful as the Sun once was.

    ‘They are the Silmarils,’ Alw said, ‘they will decide the destiny of this Earth.’

    It was midnight in Middle-Earth.

    Continued at Post 5
    Last edited by Inarus; February 07, 2012 at 06:20 AM.

  4. #4
    Borissomeone's Avatar Citizen
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    Mar 2009

    Default Re: The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus

    the Rohirrim lost control of their horses for a few years
    I'm trying to picture this and all I can picture is some guy riding his horse and losing it on a sharp bend...anyway sounds interesting.

    Under the Patronage of TheFirstONeill.

  5. #5
    Inarus's Avatar In Laziness We Trust
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    May 2009

    Default Re: The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus

    Book III: Dagor Dagorath

    The Reign of Melkor

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Chapter I: 2990

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    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: Of the Coming of Melkor and the Forging of Nargurthband

    The fires of Orodruin shot vertically into the sky, licking the boundary between the atmosphere and the Void that is space. Melkor looked upon the tower of flame and stepped into it. And the flame fell back to Earth with Melkor encased in it and there was a terrible as the Darkest Lord struck the Earth.

    And in the broken rock of Orodruin Melkor stood and raised his arms and about him the molten lava rose up in a tower of magma that was crowned in spires. There in the cracks of Sammath Naur stood Melkor’s new citadel of evil, and the molten rock hardened and it was a black tower of evil in a mountain that had lost its fire. The tower was Nargurthband – the Prison of fiery death and from there Melkor would direct his war.

    It was New Year’s Day in Middle-Earth.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: A Year of Peace

    From his Dark Tower Melkor surveyed the green lands of Seindor and considered his first move. Trapped in the Void he had gained powers of resurrection, the same powers that the Valar were using to resurrect their Heroes of Light. But Morgoth had lost what was rightfully his: his immortality as a god and only the Silmarils would restore it and to get them he needed an army.

    When the Door of Night was broken Melkor had used his power to deny any creature except his servants entry into Seindor but in a year’s time it would wear off. And one could not raise an army in a day.

    Melkor channelled some of his power into and a mound of soil and the minerals in it glowed and multiplied, the atoms reformed and rose to form a skeleton of light that solidified into bone. More earth formed into organs and muscle and skin and the body was encased and finally a few atoms multiplied into fibres that melded together and wrapped around the figure. Melkor spoke a name: ‘Herumor,’ and the figure’s face, which had previously been featureless, grew a nose, mouth and sockets, behind the lids eyes sprouted from the bone and in the man’s head a brain grew and was immediately flooded with memories of the man’s previous life. His eyelids opened and Herumor, former Mouth of Sauron, saw the world once more. His lips parted next and he said many undecipherable words before they made sense for it had been many years since he had practiced the art of speech. ‘My Lord? Is it really you? Melkor?’

    Melkor spoke curtly, ‘Yes I am Melkor; Regain your abilities, Herumor, as much as I need the coming war and despise the concept of peace, I need peace whilst I raise an army and gather my supporters. Go to the accursed Heroes and say they have a year of rest, they may disperse.’

    ‘Is it necessary for such... niceties?’ Herumor asked and hastily added: ‘my Lord?’

    Melkor considered scolding the man for questioning of his orders but instead replied, ‘Let them have peace for when I am finished they will wish they had used this year to enact a swift suicide.’

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: Diplomacy
    ‘There’s someone there,’ Legolas observed, staring into the jaws of Udn.

    Alw’s eyes blackened, ‘It is the Mouth of Melkor; he has come to treat with us.’

    Thoden laughed, ‘Treat? Has the enemy finally learnt the art of diplomacy? This is surely some form of trick?’

    ‘Perhaps,’ Alw said, urging her steed towards the black rider that was galloping from Mordor.

    The Heroes followed the Dnedain, to where, in the spot where the Black Gate once stood, they stood face to face with the messenger of Melkor. ‘Hail “Heroes” of Light, I am the Mouth of Melkor and I am here for peace.’

    Thoden laughed again at such a ridiculous proposal. Alw spoke, ‘Hail Herumor, Black Nmenrean and Mouth of Sauron. How can we trust your new master who in the past has shown no mercy let alone a willingness to seek an armistice?’

    ‘Because, seer of all, you have overlooked something: you cannot move a foot towards me until this year ends, the Dark Lord has forbade all from entering this land save those who serve him. I was simply stating that thee cannot come to us until the year is over and for that reason no servant of Melkor shall wound thy men with cold steel or raging fire.’

    And he turned and rode off into the Black Land and Alw did not consider attempting to enter the land of ash before her for she couldn’t. Her body could not allow her to spur her steed forwards. It was impossible.
    Alw turned to face the camp of the armies of Light. ‘We wait here for a year?’

    Saruman approached her, ‘Not if we can get the other Istari to aid me, I have a plan.’

    Part IV:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part IV: Rise from the Earth

    Melkor ascended to the peak of Nargurthband where it was flat and surrounded by a crown of spires. He summoned his powers and raised his hands which glowed with an inner light. Suddenly the fair green plains of Seindor from Udn to Nurn and beyond where aflame and the fires scorched the earth until it was black and infertile at which point Melkor lowered his arms and let the flames extinguish.

    Now he called upon a new magic and he raised his arms and clenched his fists and the earth cracked and from the cracks rose Orcs in numbers beyond count, they were raised from ancient bones and a few were only skeletons with loose tissue hanging from bone. Their blades were rusty, their spears and arrows blunt but intact.

    Next from the cracks there came fires of old from which came the kin of Glaurung and of Gothmog: flightless dragons and ancient Balrogs, those that were larger than adult trolls but far smaller and weaker than what they evolved into after two Ages of hibernation.

    More cracks formed from which issued trolls and spiders and other demons of Melkor but most fearsome of all were those that came last, the demons of the Night of which this tale has already spoken of but has not described their full power:

    It is said that in the First Age humans went missing and never returned but were occasionally seen at night, pale skinned and blood on their lips, feeding on another human. Such tales were later regarded from myth and discarded by those who did not believe, or feared to. It is said that the Dark Lord Sauron, he who succeeded Melkor, was one of these fiends, a man turned into a monster? In the myths they were described as fast moving, fearers of the sun, allergic to stakes and silver, drinkers of blood; they were the Undead: Vampires and they did not need steel to kill.

    Part V:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part V: The First Attack
    It was night on the twentieth of the second month, Solmath, when Alw heard the chilling scream.

    For almost two months the army had been camped on the bare fields that had once been a marsh of corpses. Indeed the army was so large in size that it stretched off as far as Emyn Muil to the north and to the edge of Dagorlad to the east. The warriors were restless and waited impatiently, the Hobbits were most irritated by the lack of action (and extra meals) and the Heroes were beginning to fear the possibility that some may desert.

    But as the last light of the camp went out on that cold winter night a group of black figures emerged from Mordor, they were pale as corpses with keen senses and no weapons. The objective was simple, cause fear.

    Alw pulled on some clothes and stirred Boromir who lay beside her then left the tent, picking up her silver sword, the relic of the War of Wrath that had been passed down through her family ever since it had been discovered in the ruins of Angmar.

    Outside it was dark and she lit an extinguished torch and raised it. Another scream broke the silence and she rushed in its direction, other soldiers were waking and following the noise. Alw approached a tent in which someone was certainly resisting something hostile. Suddenly the attacker sensed Alw’s approach and in a second he rushed from the tent and managed to get fifteen feet before a soldier hurled a javelin into its heart.

    The vampire reduced to a splat of bloody remains, Alw peered into the tent. The occupant, a woman of around twenty years, lay pale and cold, her neck pierced by two fangs and a two streaks of blood dripped from the open wounds. ‘Dead,’ Alw pronounced weakly.

    Another scream in the distance and Alw ran towards its source. All of a sudden a shape appeared before her and in the darkness she saw only two long fangs gleaming in the firelight, it seized her throat and, with a sharp twist, jerked her head to one side, exposing her neck. Then the vampire recoiled with a hiss and rounded on its attacker: Boromir stood defiantly facing the creature, his sword wet with blood but then his mouth dropped as he saw the wound he had made meld back together, unscarred. Alw now rushed it and with a swing of silver cut head from torso.

    Saruman rushed up to the two Heroes, ‘Get a spear or something silver for plain steel is useless on these demons. At that moment a vampire passed by them at impossible speed but the White Wizard aimed his staff, muttered some elvish and a beam of bright light scorched the demons and it burnt slowly to death.
    Their numbers were few and they fled, they had not expected such resistance.

    ‘Melkor did not keep his word,’ Boromir observed.

    Alw shook her head, ‘No, he just said that none would die by steel.’

    Three women were drained to death; five more were captured and taken to an even worse fate.

    Part VI:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part VI: Summoning Istari

    As the light of the Lamps reached its brightest point, Alw approached Saruman who was murmuring elvish words over a pile of different coloured cloaks. ‘Will this work’ she asked doubtfully.

    ‘No,’ he replied giving up, ‘It seems I need their elements to summon them: fire for Gandalf, water for Alatar and Pallando and something of nature for Radagast.’

    ‘Something of Nature?’

    ‘Radagast was tamer of birds above all other animals; I would not say to sacrifice one for such a death does not create life. Perhaps just the presence of one could summon him.’

    ‘And you are sure the presence of all five Istari could break Melkor’s spell?’

    ‘No but we need them all.’

    ‘We also need Enw, Aragorn, Isildur, Fingolfin and many more but where are they?’

    ‘Fierce storms are raging on the seas, perhaps they are just delayed,’ replied Saruman but he was hardly convinced.

    Alw glanced behind her as she heard footsteps. Trin greeted them and said, ‘They will come, no god will deny them passage to this world.’

    ‘I must go for the things I need, alone, my voice may not have the power to summon birds if they fear my company,’ and that said, Saruman rode in the direction of the Anduin.


    The Wizard was gone for an hour and returned with two orbs of water, encased in an invisible sphere; on his shoulder sat a raven, looking around curiously. ‘Light a fire,’ he ordered, dismounting his steed and preparing the Summons. He placed a globe of water on each blue cloak, on the brown cloak the raven hopped and there it stayed put.

    The fire was alight and, cupping his hands, the Istar held them within the flames and when he withdrew them he held an orb of fire. This he now placed upon the white cloak and it did not break and spread flames to the fabric it rested on.

    Finally the White Wizard murmured more elvish and his words grew faster and his voice became more powerful and the orbs shattered, the bird disappeared as the brown cloak spread a breath of smoke upwards. Suddenly the cloaks were obscured by a cloud of black fumes that ascended to the sky where they eventually thinned then dissipated. There was now only a light of blinding white hiding the cloaks from view and when the light dimmed the cloaks covered the owners and the five Istari were reunited.

    Part VII:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part VII: So it begins...
    Boromir moved his horse forwards to observe the Istari as they toiled with Melkor’s devilry.

    ‘They say it should take them only half an hour, should we ready the army?’ Trin told the Steward of the Reunited Kingdom.

    Boromir nodded.

    It was now early morning on the second day since the Istari returned to Middle-Earth and for all the hours the wizards had untangled Melkor’s spell. There had been no sight of enemies in the entrance to the Black Land but that only meant they weren’t risking soldiers on raids. Boromir, leader of the men that had come to fight, now galloped to the camp to wake the soldiers.

    It took them almost an hour to mobilise and by then the wizards reported the defences were down. Mordor was open to the armies of Light. The Steward gave the order to advance and slowly the army funnelled into Udn and came to Isenmouthe. There the army stopped for it could advance no further for (and here there is no exaggeration) in every square metre of the Land of Mordor there stood a servant of Melkor. The Steward swallowed and exclaimed, ‘There must be thousands of millions!’

    Alw nodded and replied, ‘I don’t think there is a number yet made to describe the amount of soldiers that have arisen in this land. Courage now, a fine speech perhaps, if it will reach the rearmost ranks.’

    ‘I shall give your voice the power to reach Melkor in his highest tower,’ Saruman said, looking upon broken Orodruin with evil Nargurthband standing in the mountain’s broken crater.

    Legolas looked too at the tall prison of fiery death and observed a figure standing on the peak, staring back. ‘He awaits our move.’

    Boromir now turned his steed to face the great army behind him and with Saruman’s help he raised his voice impossibly loud and spoke:

    ‘Peoples of Middle-Earth, hearken to me!

    ‘Today there begins a battle that long ago was prophesised, a battle for peace, for justice, for liberty. A battle to defend our fair green lands and beautiful women from the evil hoards of an ancient foe. You may have heard He is a god, that He is immortal but I tell you now that he is as susceptible to a sword blow as you or I. All you men, women, dwarves-’ this was greeted with laughter from all except the dwarven women, ‘-are here to fight for a common cause against a common foe, the pure manifestation of evil.

    ‘Melkor, or Morgoth, was the first evil in the Arda, the first darkness in the music, the coward who fled when his fortress was broken. How can such a monster intimidate us? How can he lead an army?

    ‘So now, at the first hour of blood and death, all you need to do is stand firm and remember that either way, should you die this decade or survive it victorious, you shall return as a hero to new lands and pastures, where elf and dwarf and man can live together without the fear of Rings or goblins!

    ‘Hold the position, defend each other, and should you wake to white shores and clear skies then count yourself lucky for you are out of this madness and already dead!’

    One last laugh and the elven archers loosed an arrow into the distant enemy’s ranks, they had to fight now and so, with the unanimous thud of footsteps the demons of Melkor advanced.

    Over twenty million soldiers of light stood against the countless millions of the minions of darkness.

    Part VIII:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part VIII: Dagor Dagorath I: The Battle of Gorgoroth

    It was warm on the Plateau of Gorgoroth when the armies of light unsheathed their swords and notched arrows to bows.

    Upon the flanks the tough dwarves stood confident, in between stood the elves, men and hobbits with the archers behind. The Heroes stood with their respective races, Alw and Boromir the Steward standing together in the centre of the front rank with the Istari. Boromir planted his standard of the Reunited Kingdom in the ground and took a round, sharp rimmed shield from his back.

    Trolls were leading the enemy’s charge followed by Orcs, Balrogs and Dragons with swarms of Spiders scaling the mountain walls so that they could flank the dwarves.

    ‘Steady!’ Boromir cried.

    The trolls were gaining speed (one has to be surprised at how the undead can move so speedily) and were moving closer and closer and... ‘Open Formation!’ Boromir ordered, strafing to one side creating empty columns through which the trolls charged and as they did so the unharmed infantry fell upon them in a rain of steel.

    Swiftly the soldiers reformed into a strong line and then the orcs smashed into them. Boromir brought his sword down on the shoulder of an orc and turned and slit the throat of another, then he blocked a scimitar with his shield then brought his weapon round and into its waist, another orc tried to take the place of the dead demon and clashed its sword against Boromir’s who then swiped his shield across the creatures gullet which spurted out a thick mist of blood. A shadow fell upon the Hero who looked up and saw a Balrog and so he rolled forwards, between its legs where he thrust his sword upwards and into its rear. At that moment the archers of Light released a series of volleys into the incoming Balrogs and they roared at which point Boromir struck it again in its spine, it teetered then fell forwards. A group of orcs approached and the Hero crouched under their swords then swung his own through four legs and the last one’s abdomen spilling liquids and guts onto the ashes of Gorgoroth. Boromir glanced behind him and saw Alw standing on the Balrog’s corpse and so he climbed up next to her to aid her in repulsing the masses of orcs that were climbing up around them.

    Gimli roared as he smashed his axe down on an orcish helm and brains glistened in the light of day. The dwarf then smashed his axe through rusty mail and as that orc fell he threw a small axe into another’s unhelmed scalp and then he charged forwards ducking and bringing his weapon up into a creature’s jaw then he turned and hewed another in two, he then swung his axe through the legs of an orc and then finalised the legless creature’s life. Suddenly Gimli dived aside as a torrent of flame was belched out at him and he landed and looked to see a mighty dragon, courageously he rose and cleaved a path towards the demon of fire and upon reaching it he jumped high and smashed his axe into the creature’s scaly flank but with a roar it retaliated, sending the dwarf flying with a kick to the chest and as Gimli lay on the ground stunned the dragon pounced upon him and summoned a breath of flame. The dwarf cried out and swung his axe into the demon’s exposed jaw shattering it into two causing it to recoil at which point Gimli refused to let it strike again and so dived to the right, brought his cold steel through throat scales and opened a wound so deep he could see its spine before an arterial spurt of blood blinded him.

    Trin swiped his blade smoothly through flesh then performed a deadly uppercut through the jaw of another orc before swiping his sword through skin, flesh, muscle, guts. A Balrog was upon him and he blocked its fiery blade without flinching and then pushed back its weapon to stab it in the abdomen before diving aside from under its blade and slashing his own sword across the already wounded belly. The Balrog fell back upon several orcs and Trin breathed a sigh of relief, ‘Come forth Melkor, let us do battle and end it!’

    But Sauron observed the Hero and heard his demand but stood still for it was not the time Him to fight.
    The Light armies pushed a hundred feet into Gorgoroth before being repulsed by a barrier of Balrogs. At that point the casualties passed over the thousand for the armies of Light and morale dropped for those on the front line. Boromir looked up at the sky; the light was fading, and fearing another attack of Vampires on either the camp or the army he gave the order to retreat.

    The day was over as was the first major conflict of Dagor Dagorath.

    Part IX:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part IX: Full Moon
    The howl awoke Smagol and curiously he left his tent, elsewhere the guards fearfully shone their torches into the darkness ahead.

    Smagol sneaked through the camp, ahead two torches moved and he made a route towards them.
    ‘What isss it, precious?’

    The guards turned, startled, ‘Erm, we heard a howl, thought there may be something out there, sir.’
    Smagol appreciated the use of “sir” and cocked his head as he heard a second howl. ‘Wolvssess, iss it?’
    ‘Far worse I fear,’ said Gandalf and into the torchlight he walked, Glamdring attached to his belt, his white staff in his hand, unlit. ‘If Ithil still shone the moon would be full.’

    A third howl and Trin rushed up to them, ‘The Wolves of Morgoth! The Lord of Werewolves has come!’

    ‘Calm yourself, son of Hrin, Melkor cannot raise one as powerful as Sauron though I fear his spirit may walk this earth once more. You must kill Melkor, Trin, before something horrific takes place.’

    ‘Sssauron isss a Werewolf?’

    ‘And a Vampire and a whole lot of other things,’ Gandalf said.

    ‘He can’t be both!’ Trin exclaimed, ‘surely?’

    ‘He can become whatever he wants,’ Gandalf stated bitterly.

    Suddenly there was a howl but this was preceded by a scream, the Heroes ran in its direction and saw a guard, suspended a foot from the ground by a claw around his neck, a claw connected to a tall beast, a wolf on its hind legs. Another guard was attempting to slay the beast but his steel blade did not cut a single hair.

    Trin rushed forwards and ran the werewolf through with his silver sword and the beast fell aside and the Heroes watched as it shrivelled to a skeleton and then its bones crumbled to ash. Its victim fell to the ground beside it, blood dripping from a bite wound but the guard still lived. Trin turned to the wounded man and murmured an apology then stabbed him in the heart.

    The man could not become a werewolf, it was the only way.

    Part X:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part X: The Spirit of Sauron

    Alw awoke, pulled on some clothes, and left the tent hurriedly. She heard a scream and knew the Vampires were attacking once more. Then she stopped as an ice cold hand grasped her throat and twisted her head to one side, exposing her neck to the vampire. However she swiftly stabbed her sword into the demon- but there was nothing to stab, like a ghost it taunted her for no mortal blade could kill it.

    Boromir realised Alw was gone and swiftly got dressed. He called out her name but received no reply, in the distance someone screamed and he rushed towards the noise.

    Alw shivered as she felt two sharp pricks in her neck and tried to resist, crying out but the fangs dug deeper and blood surfaced, an icy tongue licked the liquid of life from the wound and Alw could not oppose the demon, and eventually she felt faint, she could not cry out, only suffer and await the end.

    Suddenly the demon released her and she fell to her knees. Boromir was threatening it with a spear but the ghostly vampire leapt at him and a werewolf he became, holding the Hero to the ground.

    And then it spoke, ‘One bite and a few pints of your blood and I shall be whole and my powers shall return.’
    ‘Be gone Lord of Werewolves! The hours of darkness are over; the light of day is come!’ Boromir said quietly and the wolf turned to look east, an orange glow was rising from over the distant plains.

    The Lord of Werewolves dissipated and the spirit fled to Nargurthband.


    ‘How do we defeat him – if he is dead already?’

    ‘Sauron will want to become whole and only a Hero’s blood can give him a body this time. Only whole can he summon his powers and raise an army the likes of which he commanded in the Third Age,’ Gandalf replied, ‘I do not know how we can kill him but if he becomes whole he will be mortal.’

    ‘We must lose one of our own to kill him?’

    ‘No,’ Saruman said, ‘if we can strike his spirit with enough light he will not survive, light is immortal and so can kill him.’

    Chapter II: 2991

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: Dagor Dagorath II: The Battle of Udn

    In the territory of Udn the armies of Light awaited the enemy of darkness and with the sounds of drums the evil came.

    Alw glanced at Boromir as the flames of the Balrogs appeared on the horizon, ‘No rousing speech?’

    Boromir paused and considered some suitable words, eventually he turned and with Saruman’s powers he cried, ‘Gondorians! Long ago I was one of you but then I rode away but never shall I again! This day we stand with the gallant Rohirrim, the noble elves and the drunken dwarves and against us rises a power so great it would cast this world into slavery; and as you fight you shall feel fear and flee but if you do then the demons shall see your despair and cut you down in your plight! Stand firm, think of the beauty you are defending and never show your foe your back.

    ‘Now draw your swords raise them high and give a shout to tell the creatures that they are as good as dead; companions, friends, brothers, fight for Gondor, for Rohan, for Dale, for Arnor, for all of Middle-Earth and finally for your woman!’

    There was a deafening cheer and Boromir raised his standard to the heavens before planting it in the earth. A minute later the lines of Goblin infantry hit the warriors of the Reunited Kingdom like water on rocks and the second battle for a free and beautiful world began.

    Alw swung her ancient blade through a rusting helm and kicked another approaching beast in its chest before charging it and running it through. She elbowed aside the corpse and severed a torso in two, whipping to the left to parry then dismember a goblin’s arm, the corpse fell aside and nimbly she swung her sword through a creature’s thighs and as it fell another rushed, far too hastily, to take his predecessor’s place. Alw drew a short knife which she held in her free hand and stabbed the creature with it and it fell to the ground leaving its killer breathless but not exhausted for that Valar had given the Heroes the strength to endure any period of fighting, even if it lasted for days.

    Pippin thrust his weapon fiercely into an orc and nimbly ducked under the swing of a scimitar after which he thrust his dagger into his foes heart. He kicked the orc back so that it fell into one of its companions and they both ended up sprawled on the floor. A dead troll smashed into the ground before the hobbit and Pippin leapt onto it where he struck down any beast that climbed up to him.

    Beside him climbed Merry and together they made a stand and the hobbits rallied around them and never before had the Little People made such a stand for when the day was ended their losses were far lower than any other race’s and the numbers that fell to their knives and bows were enormous.

    But their gallantry did not give them victory for in the ranks of the men of Rohan dragons prospered and slew the most, and one by one the Rohirrim fled and with the middle of the left flank crumbling the armies of Light dared not continue a battle that would damage their numbers too much.

    ‘My Lord, my men are lost, there is naught I can do,’ Thoden reported and Boromir did not hesitate.

    ‘Retreat,’ he said and the horns sounded the return to camp.

    The day was over and for Rohan the losses were severe.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: Tactics

    A large tent had been erected upon Dagorlad in which, two months before the year would end, the Heroes met to discuss the strategies of the next battle. A large map of Seindor was spread out on the table in the centre of the room. ‘The enemy is moving north,’ Boromir stated, ‘the next battle will be fought on this plain and so we must set up defences, don’t forget that here we can use horses but only against the orcs.’

    ‘He could place stakes and traps,’ Legolas suggested and the Steward nodded.

    ‘See to it,’ Boromir ordered and he turned to look at the map and said mournfully, ‘“One cannot simply walk into Mordor”, if only that was the task.’


    Upon the plains of Dagorlad the men stabbed stakes into the ground and women mopped their sweaty brows, there were dwarven women digging ditches whilst the men sharpened stakes to fill the pits and Hobbit women were knitting sheets to disguise these holes.

    Horses were being inspected by their riders and led to a position that would be ready for the next battle; reports were coming in from the scouts of the enemy force approaching and by now the front lines were almost in the northernmost point of Udn.

    Dawn would bring war and it would be the bloodiest battle of the first lustrum.

    And a Hero was destined to die in it.

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: Dagor Dagorath III: The Battle of Dagorlad - Trapped

    Boromir raised his sword to the heavens and cried, ‘Men, if I give another speech like the last I fear I’ll scare the horses, so I’ll keep it brief, be brave, stay clear of the pits and don’t let the women beat you!’ Boromir lowered his weapon and shook his head, strange how such words inspired soldiers.

    Across the field were over ten thousand orcs that would die that day as well as five hundred dragons and a hundred Balrogs.

    The dragons led the charged and stampeded into a wall of spears; most of the weapons broke leaving half embedded in the beasts’ bellies, some slowed to a halt, their charge broken, but only a few died however the steel of the surrounding soldiers soon ended them. However it was these foes that were the most devastating for flames could not be blocked except by the Istari. Gandalf aided the hobbits and they fought well under his inspiration but then, as he felled three orcs in a swipe of his staff, a dragon’s tail struck him from behind and he fell unconscious to the earth, a crowd of orcs gathered round, thirsting for Istar blood.

    A Balrog cut through the infantry ranks and Legolas dived aside as it reached his archers, it raised its weapon above his head but the elf let fly an arrow into the demon’s gullet, it stopped and the archers had now recovered well enough to loose a barrage into the beast’s body. It collapsed, dead. Suddenly a dragon spewed its flames upon Legolas’ men and many died in the inferno, Legolas dived aside but like a nimble cat that spies a wounded bird the dragons pounced upon the elf and raised its claws to strike.

    Merry ducked nimbly under a sword swing and thrust his dagger up into his foe, he turned around and knifed an orc in the back then parried, clumsily, another sword. But this foe kicked the hobbit to the ground and stabbed his sword downwards however Merry had agilely rolled aside and thought himself free but at that moment another and another crude blade stabbed into the ground around him and he was trapped.

    Thorin smashed his axe through an orc helm and bashed aside a torso, in another swing he decapitated an orc and then his axe drove into a breastplate of rust. The orc fell dead and Thorin turned and saw one of the kin of Durin’s Bane cut a flaming path towards him. Fiery blade and sharpest axe clashed in a shower of sparks but Thorin held firm. But then its whip caught him and pulled him to the ground and helpless he watched the blade of flames come down.

    Boromir rallied the men and saw them waver, he blew his horn.

    The carnage was only beginning.

    Part IV:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part IV: Dagor Dagorath III: The Battle of Dagorlad – Arise in Might

    Thoden heard the blast of the Horn of Gondor and ordered his standard bearer to do the same and so as their horn blew the Rohirrim charged.

    They galloped along the eastern flank and rammed at such a speed into the front ranks of orcs that the first five rows of creatures were hurled into the air and those behind were either speared or trampled. The horses’ gallop delved deep into the ranks of orcs and was only halted in places by the mightiest of foes.

    Gandalf’s lack of consciousness lasted only a few minutes and he awoke to see a horse jump over him, he rose swiftly and retreated to the ranks of orcs but realised that he had lost sight of Merry and Pippin.

    Thorin gasped as a spear, hurled with perfect precision, struck the demon of fire through its heart; it roared and collapsed and the dwarf rose to return to the fight, blood seeped from a shoulder wound but apart from that he was well.

    And as the cavalry charge cut through the ranks of evil the orcs wavered and then fled, the battle seemed to be over but then everything changed.

    Those who were not engaged in the heat of bloodshed saw them first. They started as black shadows, arising in their might from behind Ered Lithui but they grew as they drew closer, large wings stretching out wider than an Eagle’s; and those that saw them cried out in fear, ‘The Dragons! The Dragons are in the sky!’ And so the winged beasts of fire had come.

    They hurtled across Dagorlad leaving a trail of fire, none could resist and things had never looked bleaker; but then from the Mountains came the Eagles and Radagast had succeeded and they clashed with the dragons in a fury of flaming feathers. The Eagles clawed and screeched and the noise was deafening but against fire they were useless, wisely they withdrew before their casualties were too devastating.

    And so the battle raged on and from the rear of the enemy army, on a rock that allowed Him to see all, stood Melkor and with great pleasure He watched the ruin of the armies of Light.

    Part V:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part V: Dagor Dagorath III: The Battle of Dagorlad – A Hero’s Fall

    Pippin saw Merry fall and cut his way towards his friend, thrusting his dagger into flesh in a defiant rage, he reached his fellow Hobbit and backstabbed the orc about to slay him then offered Merry a hand to pull him up.

    Legolas drew a knife and thrust it into the dragon’s claw, it recoiled and released the Hero who scrambled away and, once free enough, he loosed an arrow into the dragon’s belly. The beast roared but the arrow did little damage and hungrily it hunted the Hero as if nothing else existed to oppose it.

    Meanwhile in the sky the dragons circled and breathed their flames down below, the wizards had used their light to repel them and were at first successful but then their power waned and all was lost.

    The charge of the Rohirrim was slowing and then everything changed again. In the front lines, a short distance from the King there appeared, moving at an equal speed to the horses, a bright light. It was white and glowed more and more powerful for the seconds that it existed and then it exploded, there was no blast of air of flames, only of light and the light scorched the bellies of the dragons and the bodies of the orcs and the backs of the Balrogs. They were not dead, only stunned but it was not yet over. The light began to fade and in its heart there became clear a figure, riding a strong steed with hair of long blond flowing in the wind, the figure grasped a spear and bore no helm revealing a face of beauty, a woman’s face.

    owyn, shieldmaiden of Rohan, rode her fair steed at a steady pace and her spear broke the bodies of all it struck. She led the charge and, upon seeing a mighty dragon, she lowered her arm and snatched up a spear from the hands of an orc and raised it to a throwing position. Accurately she launched it into the air but did not have time to see it descend into the heart of the dragon and it pursued Legolas no more.

    Merry reached for the proffered hand then stopped as the hand dropped limply. Pippin had stopped dead, literally, for a rusty spear was embedded like a spit through his abdomen. Merry froze, fearing what he was seeing was true but no, Pippin would not, could not...

    A stream of blood poured from the Hobbit’s mouth and Pippin collapsed to the ground and his head fell to his friend’s lap, ‘Merry,’ he said weakly and then he was gone.

    Part VI:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part VI: The Pyre of Peregrin

    Merry turned pale as if it was all his blood on the plain. He looked down and saw... red. And he looked around and saw... red. Was there blood everywhere?

    He dropped his knife and from the ground picked up a discarded sword, far longer and heavier than his own trusty blade. He rose to his feet and faced the orc that had killed Pippin. He murmured something unrepeatable then resisted the madness no more.

    He leapt forward and sliced the sword uneasily across the orc’s chest then as it collapsed dying he dismembered its arm and cut off its head then surged forwards feeling as if he had had too much beer, he felt... invincible. And so he cut down the being towards him and decapitated it then turned and struck a creature’s sword with such fury that it fell from its owners hand and so Merry cut the hand from the limb and then sliced his sword across the creature’s chest. He stopped panting, his state of mind sobered and then a troll appeared above him and he submitted to its blade.

    owyn felt her friend’s pain and swerved, spurring her steed towards the Hobbit’s army. She saw a troll and thrust her spear into its back and it swayed then toppled backwards. Now the Lady dismounted and moved slowly towards the weeping figure that was Merry, she embraced him and murmured words of comfort but no comfort could calm the devastated Hobbit. And so, with the last of her power gifted to her for her return to Middle-Earth, owyn relaxed Merry into a deep sleep.


    With tears in his eyes Merry murmured some words to his pale faced friend then lowered the torch. Flames leapt up and licked the corpse and from it arose the spirit of the fallen Hobbit. He moved to Pippin and murmured, ‘Do not weep, for I am in a better place than this one.’

    Then he was gone.

    Two months later the New Year passed.

    Chapter III: 2992

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: The Last Ship

    It was a month since the turn of the year when, from the south, a rider approached the camp on Dagorlad. He was dressed in poor material, middle class, with a short beard but shoulder height hair. His large nose wrinkled as the stench of death reached it but he spurred his lame steed on. The guards were unsure as whether or not they should admit him but his intentions were only to bring a message and urgently so they permitted him to enter but only after relieving him of his weapons.

    ‘I am Talos, son of Talion, my lord,’ he gave a curt bow that hinted that he did not appreciate this stranger from the past returning and seizing the throne. Boromir bid him to continue and Talos said, ‘I was returning by boat from a trading venture in Dol Amroth when I spied a white ship on the horizon. Through a glass I saw clearly that the prow was of a swan and the sail bore a sign that some part of me recognised as the emblem of the Valar.’

    Alw listened and sighed in relief, ‘They have come at last. We may just have the strength to overthrow Melkor.’


    Less than a week later the guards observed banners of silver flowing in the air and cried aloud that the last Heroes of the West had returned.

    They were led by a figure with hair of purest gold, some said that a light radiated outwards from him and they were not wrong for he was Enw, a Maia, the banner-bearer and herald of the Ainu Manw who was the Chief of the Maiar.

    Behind Enw rode several men, riding next to each other for they were equal: there rode Elendil, Isildur, Aragorn, Eldarion, and beside them rode Arwen and her beauty shone through the darkness. They were the prominent men of the House of Elendil, those who fought and contributed most to the wars against evil. Then came more Heroes: Faramir, the Ringbearers, omer, there were Kings of Rohan and many others but the list is too great to mention them all here.

    But finally came the soldiers, brave men, elves and dwarves from the second, third and fourth age that had all died soldiers or some that had escaped from the madness that is war for a peaceful end at home.

    It would not be wrong to say that every being that had ever opposed evil now stood upon the battle plain of Dagorlad except for those that lay already dead and one species: the Ents.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: Dagor Dagorath IV: The Battle of Morannon

    The orcs advanced and wondered why they saw only dwarves and a line of polearms.

    ‘Will this work?’ Boromir asked Gimli.

    Gimli surveyed his men: the dwarves stood in a firm line filling the gap between Ered Lithui and Ephel Dath where once had stood the Black Gate. Each dwarf bore a sharp halberd and pointed it towards the Black Land that was spewing out its demons, in their other hand they carried a firm shield which protected themselves and the person to the dwarf’s left; those in the ranks further back held their weapons aloft. ‘Well this formation has never been tried before and never against dragons but in theory it is unbeatable on condition that the dwarves stand firm.’

    Boromir nodded, not assured. The “Phalanx”, as Gimli had named it, did appear to be strong and capable and even if the phalanx shattered the dwarves would have their axes to fight with.

    The wait for the orcs to reach the front lines was tedious, Gimli was roaring a speech suitable for dwarven ears and no others and the rest of the army waited to be called into the fray. At Morannon the orcs halted and waited for the order.

    And He ordered them to advance.

    They surged forwards but the dwarves held firm and many orcs were impaled upon the weapons. And so the hard toil of holding their small patch of ground began but the phalanx resisted well.

    But as the dwarves defended the Pass of Morannon something on Ered Lithui moved. A swarm of spiders crawled over the mountains at a slow speed so they went unnoticed. They descended onto the eastern flank where many elves of Beleriand waited the order to march, the spiders drove through the ranks of elves who were too shocked to resist at first.

    Trin rode towards the beasts and the spiders sensed his presence and then performed a strange act. They clicked their pincers or some other limbs so that a chatter of squeaks echoed in the day air.

    Suddenly a roar replied and from over the rocky wall of Ered Lithui rose a flock of great black Fell Beasts and then they descended in a straight dive towards the Hero but Trin stood firm and cried, ‘Come Melkor, let us end this once and for all.’

    But his words were lost in the wind produced by the battering of wings and the Fell Beasts continued to plunge downwards. On one sat a black figure, Melkor. In a sudden swift strike the talons of Melkor’s steed seized Trin from his saddle and so speedy was the attack that the Hero’s blade fell from his hand. There was a second screech from the beasts and all cowered save the Elves who defiantly raised their bows and loosed an accurate barrage at the Fell Beast of the Enemy.

    However the winged demons turned and belched out the fires they had swallowed from Anor and the arrows fell to the ground in ashes. Melkor encouraged his steed onwards and passed over the mountains of Mordor.

    The Battle of Morannon was won but at a price that both sides would regret.

    It was New Years Eve in Middle-Earth.

    Chapter IV: 2993

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: Arise Lord Sauron

    It was a peculiar scene.

    Upon the peak of Nargurthband, on an altar of jet, lay Trin son of Hrin. His arms and legs were tied tightly in place and his body could only move an inch to either side. He was not wounded save for the bruises and scratches he had received from the talons of the Fell Beasts.

    ‘Release me, coward! Fight me!’ Trin cried as a shadow fell upon him and he looked up into the evil eyes of Melkor who held no knife of sacrifice. Melkor ignored him and said some words of the Black Speech and Trin felt the presence of a newcomer. He saw to his right a transparent figure in the appearance of a man, fair faced but his ghostly eyes revealed a darkness held like no other. He was unarmed. He was Sauron.

    More words were said and Sauron snarled revealing two long fangs. In the Black Speech Melkor finished: ‘...and with the blood of this sacrifice, arise Lord Sauron.’

    And in a flash the Vampire-Sauron descended upon his prey, sinking his fangs into the neck of Trin, his fangs then retracted and the evil demon fed freely from the man’s neck, the warm red liquid of life flowed into Sauron’s body and became blood of a far stronger type.

    As Trin’s chalk white body decayed, Sauron rose to his feet and examined himself. He had the powers he had before he first lost his body and he planned to use them to the full.

    Trin, son of Hrin, lay drained to death and Melkor’s Lieutenant had returned and the Wars of Dagor Dagorath were just getting started.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: The Last of the Dragons

    Alw pushed through the rowdy crowd with enough force to injury a man. She reached the other side of the gathering and stood upon the ruined foundations of the Black Gate. They had found him not long ago, his pale and icy cold corpse staring peacefully ahead. Two marks, crimson against the chalky skin, stood out on his neck.

    ‘Trin,’ Alw murmured disbelievingly, ‘How can this be, he was to slay Melkor not be his meal!’ She closed her eyes and they reopened black but as much as she tried the future remained sealed behind a locked door. Then the door opened, just a bit, and an image came through. Alw raised her head and looked into Udn, ‘Mobilise the army, they’re going to strike Morannon once more!’

    Suddenly, through the darkness coughed outwards from Nargurthband, she saw shapes move, charging on four legs towards the group. Dwarven infantry who were guarding the pass rushed into position, lowering their halberds. The shapes came into clear sight and they were dragons, wingless, hurtling towards the dwarven spears and conjuring flames in their throats. When they were close enough they would release a jet of flames.

    But then a boulder fell from the sky and smashed the skull of the leading Dragon and the others came to a sudden halt, fearing another foe. The Dwarves took this opportunity and they marched forwards, weapons low, and there they dealt the Dragons their final defeat but many Dwarves died in the feat.

    One dragon fled and would have escaped had Thorin not took up an axe and hurled it with surprising strength (even to himself) at the dragons back. The beast skidded on the ground and its head slumped forwards, the Last Dragon of Melkor was dead.

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: Plotting

    In a small room, in an unknown location, two hooded figures sat and whispered their dark secrets and plots, plots that should they succeed would prove devastating to the armies of Light.

    ‘How do we kill one so powerful, surely there is some magic that protects Him?’ said the inferior of the two.
    His superior replied, ‘He is mortal, but no common man will get in reach of Him nor would any simple blade scrape His skin.’

    ‘May I ask; why do thee wish Him dead?’

    ‘Because should He succeed then even His loyalist servants shall be slaves in His world of iron for He would fear any opposition.’

    There was a moment of silence then the inferior figure questioned, ‘When do thy plan to commit this deed?’

    ‘When He suspects it least.’

    Chapter V: 2994

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: The Greatest Storm of the Lustrum

    It had begun with one rock, dropped from the sky out of the nothingness of beyond but since then there had been none. However, on the first day of 2994 F.A. the boulders of the sky plummeted in earnest; like rain they fell and many were crushed on either side of the mountains of Mordor. It was the fifth year of Dagor Dagorath and it marked a further drop in morale in the camp of Light but the dissenters stayed firm anyway for they knew they could not run from the inevitable, through battle alone they would embrace a beautiful death and a fairer resurrection.

    It was a strange sight when the Mouth of Melkor rode up to the camp, his horse fearfully dodged the rain of rock and came to a stop at Morannon, the edge of the territory of the armies of Light.

    ‘The great God Melkor invites you to battle at the northernmost point of Gorgoroth for there He wishes to end this feud, ultimately. We both know that should there be no victory for either side by the end of this decade then there shall be no new world for either side.’

    Herumor then turned and spurred his horse towards tall Nargurthband.

    ‘Do we proceed?’ Thoden pondered aloud.

    Alw closed her eyes and reopened them black, ‘Yes – though my reason opposes this.’

    Boromir looked at her worriedly for he understood the burden of her curse, he took up his horn and blew several blasts, ‘And so we march.’

    The armies mobilised and walked steadily through Udn. Boulders smashed into the ranks of solders and there were cries of fear and agony but still they proceeded. The barren and blackened land of Udn ended and they came to the Gap of Isenmouthe and from there surveyed, for the first time in a lustrum, the Plateau of Gorgoroth.

    Formerly it had been filled with orcs and other demons but four battles had diminished their numbers leaving space upon the black land. Now this was filled with rivers of lava spewed from the broken mouth of Orodruin and deep pits from which they bred more orcs and wilder things. The enemy forces were moving towards the armies of Light and upon Nargurthband two figures stood: Melkor and Sauron. Then they descended.

    They were coming to fight.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: Dagor Dagorath V: The Battle of Isenmouthe – Alw’s Battle

    The dwarves were formed into a phalanx that did not fully fill the Gap of Isenmouthe, men and elves guarded the flanks, the Rohirrim unhorsed once again. Boromir, Steward of the Reunited Kingdom, unsheathed his sword and spoke his speech, short and to the point, promising that if they fought bravely they would be victorious.

    Balrogs rose from the pits and moved to stand amongst their orc comrades, there were squeals from the small creatures and the rattle of steel, then came a loud beating of fists upon shields, the peoples of Light did not waver though, they had suffered far worse.

    Legolas notched an arrow to his bow and stared down the shaft, ‘Faeg i-varv dn na lanc a nu ranc.’ There was a moment of silence save for heavy breathing and the tightening of bowstrings. Legolas adjusted his aim and pulled the arrow further back, he took a deep breath then cried, ‘Leithio i philinn!’ The simultaneous twangs of hundreds of thousands of bows were deafening and from the ranks of archers black shafts shot straight into the sky before arcing downwards and plummeting into the ranks of goblins but the losses were insignificant as thousands more surged towards the waiting army, overrunning their dying comrades.

    I dropped from Arcel’s saddle and drew my silver sword. The orcs were close now with what looked like blood dribbling from their teeth, they were chanting some words of Black Speech and I thought it curious that such minor ranks were using a tongue that was traditionally used only by captains of the armies.

    One creature, a large Uruk, approached me and I observed its foul appearance, a tusk of some form emerged from its lower lip and long, ragged, earth strewn hair sprouted from its scalp. It growled as it laid eyes on me and I stepped forwards, swinging my sword at its waist but the beast parried and turned swiftly to strike my arm; nimbly I dodged the blow and struck the orc upon its- but no it raised its shield to block, next I raised my blade and parried to attacks before ducking and thrusting my blade towards its abdomen, it pierced but before I forced it in deeply the beast sent a foot into my chest and I fell backwards to the ground. A trickle of black blood escaped from the wound but unperturbed it struck me with its rusty blade and had I not rolled aside the wound would have been fatal. And so with blood flowing from my free arm I jumped to my feet kicking out in retaliation and striking the beast’s breast. It roared and rushed at me with its blade pointing at my heart, I dodged the offending weapon and brought mine down hard on the creature’s wrist and the blade cut smoothly through flesh and bone. Unarmed the creature roared again and I preceded to run it through with my sword but the beast suddenly grasped my blade with its only remaining hand and I noticed how it failed to flinch at the pain it took to wrench it from my hand.

    My sword dropped to the ground and the Uruk dealt me a blow to my chest, I gasped, winded, but did not point out it was wrong to strike a lady there- instead I kicked my foot into its groin and was satisfied that not all of their pre-corruption parts were lost for it recoiled and showed the first sign of receiving true pain. But it came at me again and my agility served its purpose and I dodged a barrage of punches before dealing one to its face. It reacted by retreating one step, blood pouring from its nostrils and I knew I had been lucky for bare fisted fighting was hardly a talent of mine. It lunged again and this time was successful, and I knew that my nose was now also broken for I tasted blood from where it trickled into my mouth. I struck once more and its lack of agility meant it received the blow where I had carefully aimed it: on the spot of the wound I had dealt it. It grunted and I drew closer, raising my leg so that my knee struck its groin and it howled angrily and as it struggled with the pain I reached around its back for the knife it kept there and drew it.

    At that moment the creature recovered and struck me so hard with its head that I fell to the ground once more, the knife lying a foot away from my hand. I reached out for it but the enraged beast dealt me a series of kicks to my side so that I was sure a rib had cracked, however I was reassured that with each kick my hand drew closer to the knife and finally I seized it and – and where I got the strength and accuracy I cannot tell for I managed to hurl the short weapon and strike the artery in its neck precisely. It still lived – somehow – and defiantly it ripped the dagger from its throat and made to aim it at me. But it is always a grave error to pull a blade from a potentially fatal wound for as soon as it did so, blood spurted like a fountain from the wound and the beast fell, losing consciousness and ultimately, life.

    I rose to my feet and suddenly the beating that had been dealt to me sent out all the messages of pain it had been withholding and I screamed at the sudden shock of a blade stabbing into my heart and I looked into the eyes of the offending orc and coughed a mouthful of my blood into its face.

    And it all went black...

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: Dagor Dagorath V: The Battle of Isenmouthe – Possessed

    Boromir searched for the source of the scream and despaired as he saw the orc run Alw though with a crude and rusty sabre, he made to rush to her aid but then something abnormal occurred.

    And it all went black, black like when I had a vision for my eyesight ceased and then returned with all the people I saw bordered in a golden glow and all the light was burningly bright. I tasted blood in my mouth and the flavour was strangely overpowering – more than normal. I heard things that one would not regularly hear, the sound of the flames of a Balrog on the other side of the battlefield, my sense of smell seemed stronger too and I was completely confused for never before had this happened during a vision.

    Then my body went numb and I realised that all I could control was my thoughts: something else was in control of my body and I watched as the sword that was in my heart ejected itself as if it was thrown and the hilt shot into then through its owner and the orc was thrown back, dead. Now the being controlling me moved me forwards and it – I? – struck down another orc and another and I realised my body was moving in ways I had never thought possible; with a jump I landed on an orc and pushed my sword into its chest. What was controlling me?

    Boromir’s jaw dropped as he saw the beautiful Alw strike down any foe that opposed her with a skill that no mortal possessed, nor even an immortal elf. She jumped into the air and slashed and stabbed with the grace of an elf and the invincibility of a god.

    A Balrog towered above me and the being inside me leapt high and I pursued and my sword shone blood red in the light of day and then disappeared up to the hilt into the Balrog’s neck. I fell to the ground a different shadow fell upon me and the being inside me fled for it was not he who would strike down this monster. Alone I rose and rested a hand upon my left breast where my armour was pierced; the skin was untouched; I had been healed.

    And with that knowledge I stared into the hollow eyes of Melkor, ‘This is the end, demon of Night!’ That said, our blades met and the clash of Heroes against Villains was begun.

    Part IV:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part IV: Dagor Dagorath V: The Battle of Isenmouthe – Melkor

    I observed the battle and was angered for the tactics of the enemy were superior. I marched through the ranks of orcs and readied Grond, the Hammer of the Underworld. My presence unnerved the peoples of Light and they cowered as I brought Grond down upon them. I swiped it through their ranks and men were hurled into the air and I was invincible.

    A spear was thrust at my heart but it shattered on my armour and I smashed the skull of the offender, screams filled the enemy’s ranks and then I stopped, there was a strange presence, a god’s. I turned and searched for the being and saw a woman, she was fighting with a skill no human possessed and there was something inside her – some being of power.

    I approached her and saw her kill a Balrog with one accurate stab but as my shadow fell upon her the god within fled and it was she and I, duelling alone.

    ‘This is the end, demon of Night!’ she said as her sword met my Hammer and I was surprised at how this mortal blocked Grond with such a display of strength.

    Morgoth brought down His weapon but nimble Alw dodged the clumsy tool with ease. Many times did He try to smash her to the ground and every time He failed and every time He delved a deep pit into the ground. Angered, the twisted Ainur aimed once more at the woman but she rolled aside and into a pit where she thrust her blade of silver up and into her enemy’s abdomen, a trickle of blood escaped but Melkor smashed Grond down upon her and only in the last second did she parry it.

    Alw then climbed from the pit, repulsing more and more attempts on her life. Frustrated at His foe’s fortune Melkor swiped cruel Grond at her legs but agilely she jumped over the Hammer and lunged again but this proved foolish as Melkor’s weapon was brought back and smashed into Alw’s pelvis and she was thrown to the ground. Was the god still protecting her? No bones were broken that was for sure. She raised herself from where she had landed and instantly the shadow of Melkor was upon her and weakly she parried more and more swings of Grond and finally Melkor himself tired for He was no longer a god and a single weak lunge left His waist open to assault and their Alw struck and blood spurted from a split artery.

    But there came a point when, plagued with fatigue, Alw fell to her knees in weakness and then rolled aside into a pit and there she lay unconscious and Melkor towered over her.

    And Grond came down.

    Part V:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part V: Dagor Dagorath V: The Battle of Isenmouthe – Sauron

    I brought down my sword upon the helm of an elf and cleaved him in two, my aura of power was visibly causing fear in the foe’s ranks and I cackled gleefully as I drove my blade through a line of dwarves.

    A Hero of Light, a portly dwarf, leapt towards me, his axe held high and I turned and stepped back swiftly before driving my sword through him like it was a spit. Another dwarf watched and despaired, ‘Bofur, no!’ he cried and he rolled under my swing and thrust his sword upwards and I roared in agony as blood fled from my thigh, I smashed my sword down upon him but bravely he resisted and I enjoyed the sport but eventually he tripped, exhausted, and I hesitated that my victory should be taken by a stone but in that pause the friend of Bofur (Bifur I believed to be his name) cut his axe into my shin and angrily I drove my blade through his heart.

    I turned for something within me was urging my attention elsewhere and I saw to my amusement the Great Melkor toil in vain with a woman. I approached, my sword ready.

    Part VI:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part VI: Dagor Dagorath V: The Battle of Isenmouthe – Betrayal

    As Alw lay trapped beneath Grond time stopped for her alone and she saw around her fellow Heroes moving to strike Melkor. Sauron stood a few feet behind his superior.

    Boromir was mid-jump, his sword in such a position as to strike Melkor’s head from His shoulders but Grond was bearing down on the Hero and Alw did not need the gift of prophecy to tell what would happen next; with the last of her strength she raised her sword into the path of Grond and time resumed.

    Her sword missed.

    For a moment she despaired but then she saw the spray of blood and the fall of Grond from Melkor’s severed arm. The Darkest Lord roared in fury and pain and His unharmed arm shot out, seizing Boromir by his throat before the Hero’s sword could cut into flesh. The Gondorian, his jump cut short, spluttered and clawed at the iron fist as it swiftly strangled him and had Melkor not released him, for what was at first an unexplained reason, he would surely be dead. Boromir fell to the ground and, despite the pain in his throat, he looked up in confusion.

    There was a stunned silence as every being, were it good or evil, turned to stare in shock at Melkor and Sauron.

    No one knew what gave Him the courage to perform such a deed; some said that the blood of Trin – he who was destined to slay Melkor – that flowed in His veins had corrupted His mind and sowed the seeds of betrayal; even I, the Keeper of Knowledge, cannot tell why Sauron, the Once Lord of the Rings, moved behind His master and passed His bloody sword through the Ainur’s neck.

    In Melkor’s torso a light grew and His heart suddenly exploded and a great wind swept through the ranks of evil and slew them all. The head of Melkor fell into the pit in front of Alw and she watched as the fiery light in his eyes was extinguished.

    Melkor, Lord of Darkness, the first evil, was dead and His corpse burned and from it rose a black spirit that paused before hurtling down the throat of Sauron and the new Dark Lord coughed and clutched His heart as the spirit melded with His mind and soul.

    There was the sound of hooves and Herumor, he who had plotted with Sauron, approached, his sword bloody. ‘My Lord, we must go.’ And thus Sauron mounted the steed that accompanied Herumor and they turned and rode away but not before Sauron said to the Heroes of Light, ‘I proclaim peace for this year and the next.’

    ‘We accept,’ Alw replied breathlessly.

    ‘Is he truly dead?’ Boromir pondered, still shocked.

    ‘He shall never take form in this world again,’ Alw stated and it was the truth for her eyes were black – the god spoke through her.

    The battle was won, Bifur and Bofur were slain and Melkor’s corpse lay charred and rotting upon Gorgoroth but the combined spirit of Melkor and power of Sauron would prove far more devastating than anything ever seen in Middle-Earth...

    The first lustrum of Dagor Dagorath was over...

    Continued at Post 7
    Last edited by Inarus; February 07, 2012 at 06:22 AM.

  6. #6
    Borissomeone's Avatar Citizen
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    Mar 2009

    Default Re: ***** ******** - The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus. BOOK 1: CHAPTER 2

    Part 1 - short and sweet like a Hobbit.

    Under the Patronage of TheFirstONeill.

  7. #7
    Inarus's Avatar In Laziness We Trust
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    May 2009

    Default Re: ***** ******** - The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus. BOOK 1: CHAPTER 2

    Book III: Dagor Dagorath

    The Reign of Sauron

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Chapter VI: 2995 – A New Power is Rising

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: The Scheme of Saruman

    It was in the middle of the summer of the previous year when Treebeard’s kin finally assembled upon the Battle Plain of Dagorlad, however their leader was absent. They had first been delayed at the South Undeep – where Alw had been told through her “gift” to tell them to cross at - the problem had occurred when they had been delayed by the lack of hastiness in the ranks of Ents and thus arrived at the River when it was high and difficult for even Ents to cross. As a result Treebeard, who had been watching the rear of the army whilst his wife Fimbrethil led the front, was trapped by the rapids that had been growing in strength and height. He had opted to take the road south through Rohan and Gondor. Later the Ents had been delayed when they spied Dragons ahead, patrolling with the aim to destroy any reinforcements for the armies of Light.

    It was on the Eve of the New Year when Saruman told his companions that he was leaving for Isengard because he required “A tall tower and familiar soil” and he requested that Alw, Legolas and the other Istari accompanied him. Curious they accepted and Gimli came also to which Saruman stated, ‘Good, we shall need and axe.’

    On the first day of the Year 2995 F.A. eight riders galloped through Cair Andros and into Anrien and a few days later, as they crossed the Mering Stream, Legolas sighted on the horizon a tall tree that appeared to walk. ‘There, on the hill, it’s Fangorn, eldest Ent of Middle-Earth.'


    Now, with the great Ent accompanying them, they rode slowly westwards and came at last to Nan Curunr and a beautiful scene: the pinnacle of Orthanc rising out of a sea of trees.

    ‘Beautiful is this vale, I did much to harm it... and I fear I must do so once again.’

    Alw looked at the mighty wizard and feared she understood him correctly, ‘What do you mean?’

    ‘What Sauron breeds now in the Black Land will be, without any doubt, far more devastating than a million Balrogs and what little we have left as an army will never triumph unaided. Sauron has,’ he paused as he considered a suitable word, ‘cheated. He has found a way to get fresh soldiers when there should only be Melkor’s original force.’

    ‘Saruman, you cannot be suggesting?’ Gandalf said in disbelief.

    ‘Oh yes, my old friend, I am suggesting just that and it must happen for the sake of the future of mankind. We must raise an army of Uruk-Hai.’

    Alw laughed at the idea of man and beast fighting together against Sauron – at least someone saw a funny side.

    Finally Treebeard voiced his outrage for he could not face the burning of the trees once again, indeed none of them could. Alw defended Saruman’s proposition, ‘These trees will all be lost when this world ends so why not spare them the wait, at least they shall die for a great and noble cause.’

    And so, with great reluctance, Treebeard agreed and moved to uproot the trees after doing which he lay them respectfully in a pile by the Gates of Isengard.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: The Demons of Mordor

    Upon high Nargurthband Sauron, his arms raised high, watched the earth crack, the demons emerge, these were his creations, his demons and they would terrorise Middle-Earth.

    Goblins, hobgoblins and many other different races of orc emerged first and they were hungry for blood, then came the Uruks of Mordor and they were many, they were followed by trolls and giants and then came wargs and wolves and bats ands crebain.
    And then came something new:

    They were like dragons and yet unlike, they breathed no fire and had no wings and charged on four legs like the Rhinos of furthest South. These beasts were named “Seinangulce” or simply “Seinlce” meaning “New Dragons”. There were beasts like these that rose up on two legs and dominated all others, their claws could snatch up a handful of men; some said they could breathe flame but others said that it was just the devilry of Sauron. These were called “Attalyangulce” or abbreviated as “Attalyce” meaning Two-legged Dragons. Both these beasts had armour almost as strong as Mithril and had more strength and resistance than Balrogs.

    The armies of Light were once again outnumbered and outmatched.

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: The Servants of Saruman

    Saruman, standing upon the pinnacle of Orthanc clenched his fists and the earth within the Ring of Isengard cracked, the four wizards beside him spoke some words and the earth dropped and throughout the Ring the pits that long ago had been refilled by the Ents were re-dug and in the darkness of the craters the Heroes saw beings move: the skeletal undead forms of the Orcs that had bred the first Uruk-Hai.

    ‘They shall breed our army,’ Saruman said.

    ‘Let’s hope they breed one strong enough,’ said Alw behind him and she looked up at the fair blue sky, that would not last. Then she saw something strange: a flock of vultures flying north-east and not far away, through the Gap of Rohan, she spied a pack of wolves running in the direction of Hobbiton. Suddenly she cried out as something with sharp claws perched on her should: a raven who had separated from its flock to speak to her through black eyes, it said, ‘We are waiting mother of mankind.’ Then it rejoined its kin and followed the path of the Vultures.

    Towards the Shire.


    The orc breeders set about constructing access platforms in the caves and with the wizards’ help it took little time, then the orcs set about the creation of Saruman’s army from the earth whilst others began the forging of weapons and armour. It was a long process and the first batch of infantry was ready in a month but the orcs promised that they would have a full army ready by the end of the year.

    Saruman led the Heroes on an inspection of the new-breeds. The Uruks were all seven feet tall with strong bodies that withstood much harm, their flesh was the colour of that from which they came and their teeth were barely whiter than that soil, sharp fangs for chewing flesh, Alw wondered how they would treat the fact that they would only have orc flesh to feast on.

    In the autumn of 2995 F.A. all the Heroes except Saruman rode from Nan Curunr and arrived on the Battle Plain of Dagorlad on New Year’s Eve.

    When at last his army was assembled, over a million strong, Saruman stood on the balcony of Orthanc and announced, in likeness to his old speech,

    ‘A New Power is Rising, its Victory is at Hand – but it must be stopped.

    ‘Today you, the army of the White Hand, depart to end the chances of this Power: the Power that arises in the Black Land with the aim to enslave all. It is our duty to defend this earth even though your creation destroyed part of it. The World will burn in the fires of industry, forests will fall, but if we do not stop the Black Hand then that shall all happen 11700 years too early.

    ‘Now comes the End of Time for Middle-Earth now let us preserve the future.

    ‘To War!’

    Chapter VII: 2996

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: Dagor Dagorath VI: The Battle of Orodruin – Death!

    Boromir his steed onto the Plateau of Gorgoroth and carefully chose a path around the deep pits and rivers of flame. Behind him he heard the deafeningly loud clamour of countless million simultaneous footfalls of the soldiers of the mighty armies of Light as they followed their Steward to into Mordor where, on the slopes of Mount Doom, they would die for the freedom of Middle-Earth.

    Under the shadow of terrible Nargurthband Boromir pulled on his reins and turned to face his army. He frowned as he saw the nervous faces of shivering people, it was early winter but in Mordor it was swelteringly hot. Fear. There was a roar as Orodruin spewed out a torrent of lava and everyone cried out except the Heroes.

    Boromir raised his sword and there was silence throughout the ranks.

    ‘People of Middle-Earth, I call now for courage, for you to so your duty to your children, to yourselves. I will keep this brief for the sooner this battle is won the sooner I can break open that barrel of ale. Fight well, defend your neighbour and you shall one day see Elysium, let it be soon!’

    And suddenly another jet of flame streaked up the pinnacle of Nargurthband and its light climbed from the hilt of Boromir’s sword to the tip and a deafening explosion shook the ground. But in the crater Nargurthband stood stable.

    Boromir now lowered his sword until it was almost horizontal and behind him there was the sound of heavy hooves as the might of the Rohirrim assembled. Thoden moved beside the Steward and asked, ‘May I?’

    Boromir just nodded.

    Thoden raised his sword and it shone in the firelight, ‘Rohirrim! To the death!’

    Death!’ they echoed and charged.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: Dagor Dagorath VI: The Battle of Orodruin – Thoden

    My swift steed picked up a steady pace and soon the wind was rushing through my hair. Ahead the orcs gathered and their spears glinted as they were lowered into my path but I ensured my horse kept on its course and waited for the moment of impact.

    A barrage of stones dropped into the lines of orcs and they fled in fear of the new foe to the battle: the Ents. The hurling of rocks only happened once and a few seconds later my horses of the Rohirrim slammed into the cowardly backs of the orcs. I brought my sword into the neck of an orc and blood shot up my hand as the head went flying, another thrust and an orc fell beneath my blade, I arced my blade over my steed and stabbed it into the shoulder of a creature to my left. It collapsed dead and as I removed my blade a surge of foul liquid licked my arm. I moved my sword back to my right hand side and swung it at a passing goblin, severing its arm and an arterial spurt splashed the white coat of my steed who it seemed was slowing down.

    Finally we were moving at a walker’s pace and I called out to my men to retreat before the orcs retaliated but it was too late. A shadow fell upon me and in despair I turned around, feeling a sense of dj-vu. A loud roar sounded in my ears and I was deaf to all else. Above me towered a being I had never seen nor heard of before, standing on two legs with the appearance of a giant lizard but I doubted this beast was after insects. Its claw swooped down with the aim to seize me from its saddle and I raised my sword to defend myself, as its wrist came near I struck it in two but the impact was like driving an axe into wood. My arm ached but I ignored it and spurred my steed forwards, close to its leg which I drew my weapon along causing the beast further agony. It roared, raising its head in its fury and I took one of several throwing spears from my saddle and hurled it accurately into the demon’s gullet. A final howl and it pitched forwards, slain as was the horseman trapped under it.

    I did not indulge in a cheer of victory at the beast’s death unlike my comrades for I saw what was coming: behind a sea of routing orcs came a stampede of Seinangulce and I raised my sword and it shone like a star in the darkness of Mordor, ‘
    Death!’ I cried and charged.

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: Dagor Dagorath VI: The Battle of Orodruin – The Seinlce

    I followed my uncle Thoden and soon I was in the shadow of a might Seinlce, riding beside my brother who looked as nervous as I felt; that was not reassuring. I encouraged my steed to accelerate but its confidence was leaking away the closer it got to the creature; I raised my sword and held it ready to strike the creature’s leg.

    Suddenly the beast gave a deafening roar and I was hurled from the saddle as my horse bolted. Unsteadily I rose and moved towards the Seinlce as it charged toward me; I cut down an orc that had been lucky to survive the Rohirrim’s initial charge as I passed it and then focused on the larger foe. My eyes were level with its belly and as the creature charged towards our armies I slid between its forelegs and swung my sword overhead ripping open its stomach and I only just missed its contents.

    I darted from underneath the collapsing beast and the earth shook behind me. I heard a roar and saw a Seinlce, this one’s neck was longer than a Mmak’s trunk and it aimed to strike me down but I denied it that by dodging the lengthy neck and swing my blade through its oesophagus, two strong hacks and it severed.

    I heard someone scream and looked to my right, a man lay trapped under the dismembered tail of an Attalyce. I rushed cautiously over to help him and was relieved when removing the tail caused him no further pain. ‘Thanks,’ he murmured and he went on to say more but those words were lost in the roar of the tail’s owner who entered my vision too late to allow me to prevent it from snatching up the man I had saved, in one swift movement it ripped off his head with its teeth, chewed for a second then swallowed the rest of him. I cried out, tears streamed down my face but I was a Shieldmaiden of Rohan, I would do my country proud; in one swing I let fly my sword and it spun through the air before spinning across the beast’s throat, slitting it open and a river of blood and a severed human foot poured out. I retched.

    The charge of the Rohirrim had been quickly overrun by that of the Seinangulce and went on to plough through the ranks of elves, men, hobbits and dwarves. The Ents resisted well for they were tall and strong and many Seinangulce fell under a barrage of boulders but nothing could defeat the might of the Attalyce.

    Gandalf rode swiftly in search of Radagast and shouted over the roar of the battle, ‘We cannot hold them but if the five Istari are together we may hold them, find Saruman and order him to leave his army and aid us here immediately, he cannot be far away, take the pass of Minas Ithil! Go!’

    Part IV:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part IV: The March of the Uruk-Hai

    Saruman led his army up the slopes of Ephel Dath beside the Morgulduin which was fair now after a millennium of purification. They climbed to the bridge across the fair waters of Minas Ithil and Saruman paused to admire the fine Nmenrean architecture as it shimmered in the moonlight. As he reached the gate a guard questioned his identity and intent, ‘I am Saruman, Hero of Light and these are my soldiers.’

    Nervously the guard asked doubtfully, ‘What Hero of Light brings orcs to aid men?’

    Saruman hesitated, blinked and replied in Quenya, his eyes now black, ‘The hour is nigh, the Darkness has come and the free peoples will gather. The Earth will begin at the End.’

    The guard nodded and allowed the army to pass.

    But as the Uruks crossed the bridge and passed through fair Minas Ithil something stirred in the mountains, an ancient foe, said to be dead but after a millennium of agonising sleep the aged Shelob had awoken to find herself healed and hungry and that around her waited her countless siblings that had fled from the trees of Mirkwood and also Ungoliant herself.

    Despite her severe wounds the mighty spider had survived the blade of Glorfindel and now thirsted for blood for with blood she could heal herself.

    As midnight came the spiders scurried from the pass of Cirith Ungol and descended like a plague upon the army of Uruk-Hai as it marched from Minas Ithil. Had the Uruks had the discipline of men they might have fled and been cut down but they were bred to kill, to not know pain nor fear, to lust only for flesh. Their pikes were erect as they marched and any unwitting spider that pounced upon the soldiers was skewered before it came close enough to strike. The other spiders slid down the slopes flanking the pass and by then the Uruks were aware of their presence and discarded their pikes and charged into the creatures, crushing them with their shields then finishing off the survivors with their swords. Upon seeing this Shelob called to her brothers and sisters and they moved northeast like a wave of darkness, towards the Battle at Orodruin.

    Ungoliant however did not wish to flee again, she could not face another defeat and her wounds would not permit her to travel far. She leapt upon the Uruks and crushed many under her bloated belly before gorging on their flesh. The Uruks battered her rear with axes or fled from her pincers but neither act would save them for her skin was thick there and her reach was long.

    But then came Saruman and he burned the beast with his magic and inspired his soldiers with the wisdom of where to strike, the Uruks now struck legs from torsos and then stinger from abdomen and Ungoliant screamed and ultimately was no more.

    ‘Saruman, Saruman! It is I, Radagast, we need your aid but I fear you are too late!’ came the Istar’s shout over the din of the feasting Uruks.

    ‘Radagast, has the battle begun already?’

    ‘Yes, it rages on still upon the slopes of Mount Doom and I was delayed; a great host of spiders were headed towards them and I did my best to tame them. They may aid us, I cannot be sure; such beasts are disloyal even to a wizard!’

    ‘It will take too long for my force to reach them there and even if they aid us those spiders shall be tardy too. We must go speedily nonetheless. You and I must ride on ahead, our presence may be enough to turn the tide,’ but Saruman said this uncertainly.

    They would never reach Orodruin in time but Ungoliant no longer walked the world.

    Part V:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part V: Dagor Dagorath VI: The Battle of Orodruin – Ghosts

    Alw coughed up a mouthful of blood onto the blackened soil and turned to face the monster that towered above her. The Attalyce had tossed her like a man does an empty bottle and she lay battered and bruised at her foes mercy. But then time stopped.

    At first she thought her protective Vala had returned to her aid but then she realised that it someone else’s presence. She looked behind her and saw a silver glow a few feet away, a Hero was coming. Slowly the light dissipated and disbelievingly Alw watched as the golden-haired High Elf emerged into the darkness of Mordor.

    ‘G-G-Glorfindel?’ she spluttered.

    ‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘I only have a little power left, good luck Mother of Mankind.’ That said I drew my shining blade and, with the last of the magic gifted to me for my return to Middle-Earth, I leapt into the air stabbing my sword into the shoulder of the Attalyce as I passed, the demon roared and fell forwards but I could not glance back to see if Alw had escaped from under it.

    I landed easily and moved like lighting through the ranks of orcs, my sword slicing left and right but only a handful died in the face of the true numbers. Today my aim was to inspire fear not to kill. Victory would never be achieved by killing soldiers, only the leaders.

    Some said it was the presence of Glorfindel that caused the beings of Sauron to flee, others that the charge of the Ents proved too devastating to the flanks but a few said that it was neither, they said that in the firelight they saw the spectre of a terrible lady who terrified even them though she was not evil.

    Boromir slew his last orc of the day and approached Alw, ‘Are you alright?’

    ‘Not really, but I will heal. Help me up.’

    The Steward did so and noticed a deep wound below her right breast caused by an Attalyce claw. Worried he lowered her to the ground and pressed his hand to the wound, blood seeped through the gap between his fingers and a tear dropped from his eye, ‘No!’

    ‘Boromir! Let me aid her,’ Aragorn appeared out of the smoke of the battlefield, pulling a fair herb from the pouch on his belt. He breathed on it and pressed it onto the wound. There was a hiss and the bleeding abated. ‘She cannot move for a year else it will be her undoing. Sleep now, Alw, Mother of Mankind.’

    ‘Why do you call her that?’ Boromir asked once he was reassured of her safety

    Aragorn hesitated, ‘I do not know.’


    ‘Is the mountain surrounded?’ Boromir asked.

    ‘Yes, sire,’ replied the soldier, ‘Nargurthband has only one entrance: the doorway in the mountainside that was once Sammath Naur.’

    ‘So it begins then and may this siege go well, one more such victory like the last and we are lost,’ the Steward stated and he turned to face his army, a gathering of dishevelled people fearing what was to come and wondering how they would make the next move.

    It was New Years Eve in Middle-Earth in the Year 2996 F.A. and the Siege of Nargurthband had begun.

    Chapter VIII: 2997 - The Siege of Nargurthband: Year I

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: Reinforcements

    ‘Saruman’s Uruk-Hai are defending the pass of Nurn so we have little worry of attack from the south, all we need worry about is getting through the door of Nargurthband,’ Boromir stated as he poured over a map of Seindor.

    ‘Saruman,’ Thoden said, ‘could you forge some of that explosive powder?’

    The Istar hesitated, ‘Given time and materials, yes. The ash of Mordor will be most fertile for such a task.’

    ‘Then do so, you say there are more Uruks coming?’ Boromir asked.

    ‘Yes but I cannot say when.’

    At that moment a man rushed into the tent, a scout, ‘Soldiers coming! There are soldiers from Minas Ithil!’

    ‘Friend or foe?’

    A loud horn echoed across the plain of Gorgoroth and omer paled, ‘I know that horn. Haradrim.’

    They rushed outside to the camp’s south-westernmost point where the Plateau stretched out to Ephel Dath. There they saw a great host marching towards evil Nargurthband, crimson banners held high adorned with a black snake and rising tall were the Mmakil of farthest South.

    ‘My Lord! My Lord! Scouts tell of a golden army marching upon Morannon, we are trapped!’

    ‘How could this happen? How could they rise up against us?’ Aragorn exclaimed.

    ‘Aragorn lead half the soldiers against the Easterlings,’ Boromir ordered, ‘I shall face the Haradrim here, Saruman go and command your army, I have a feeling they are also under attack.’

    They obeyed and mustered the armies whilst Boromir cast his eyes upon the Pinnacle of Nargurthband where stood a tall figure. Boromir could have sworn He was laughing.

    Thus began the second season of 2997 with the insurrection of the peoples who had once made peace with King Elessar.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: Dagor Dagorath VII: The Battle of Mordor

    ‘Rohirrim, form up.

    ‘Now is the hour, Riders of Rohan, to face a foe that once before we defeated, let us do so once more!

    ‘For Peace! For Freedom! To the Death’

    That said Thoden spurred his steed forwards and behind him came his subjects, swift as only a Rohirrim’s horse is they ploughed through the front ranks of Haradrim before the Southrons had time to raise their spears. Overcome by a wave of death the infantry wavered and fled but the Mmakil were not so easily terrified. They stampeded through the lines of horsemen and many men died under the footfalls of the Great Beasts. Spears were loosed into the air and they came down upon the Mmak like needles but some pierced corneas or felled the Mmak’s master causing chaos. Never had a battlefield looked so disorderly as when many Mmakil became entangled and victorious the riders cheered.

    But then they saw the fresh wave of enemies approaching.


    The orcs, trolls and Seinangulce fared badly against the pikes of the Uruk-Hai for nothing could get close enough to slay the wielders. Occasionally a breach appeared but the Istar Saruman sealed it as best he could. The Attalyangulce were terrified by the black darts of the crossbows and fled and in doing so crushed many orcs. Some, however, were infuriated and caused far more devastation than any other. The Uruks proved valiant and fearless and were victorious after little effort.


    Aragorn ordered his soldiers into formation and waited as the golden army advanced, pikes thrust forwards. As the men of Rhn came in reach, the soldiers of light crouched and used their shields to raise the enemy’s pikes out of their path and then charged forwards and in the melee that ensued only armour and skill would triumph.


    Legolas loosed an arrow into a routing Southron’s rear and ran towards an approaching Mmak, in a leap he seized the creature’s tusk and then propelled himself nimbly onto the beast’s foreleg. Another jump and he was on the creature’s rear leg and he paused to take a breath. He had done this before so there would be no problem. He then climbed upwards onto its back and cut down an opposing Haradrim warrior before seizing a swinging rope and falling past the straps of the creature’s wooden platform. He drew his knife along these and then released the rope and as planned he landed on the head of the Great Beast. Three arrows to its neck and the creature roared and began to fall and the elf slid down its trunk which suddenly flicked him into the air. Legolas cried out then fell and in revenge the Mmak thrust its tusk upwards and through the falling elf’s chest. Legolas gasped in pain and then the darkness took him.

    The day was won but at another, terrible price: Dwalin, Oin and Legolas lay slain.

    Chapter IX: 2998 - The Siege of Nargurthband: Year II

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: Dagor Dagorath VIII: The Sally of Nargurthband – Sally

    Alw emerged from her tent and moved slowly across to the Steward’s tent. ‘How goes things?’

    ‘Alw you should be resting,’ Boromir said, surprised at her appearance.

    ‘A graze in my side is nothing in comparisons to the pains we women must endure in our lives.’

    owyn laughed but the Steward was not so amused, he rushed over to Alw, pressed his hands to her arms and led her outside; there he raised her top to reveal the long scar that was now only a hair’s breadth. The Dnedain shivered as he drew a finger across the red mark, ‘I am healed,’ she stated.

    ‘Not underneath, if there is but a single weakness in the flesh and it breaks the bleeding will be your death, and I cannot see that. Alw, don’t fight.’

    An orc horn sounded suddenly and all heads focused on towering Nargurthband. The enemy was making a sally; Boromir looked at Alw and repeated, ‘Return to your tent, and stay there!’ then he ran to join his fellow soldiers on the slopes of Mount Doom.

    The Gates of Nargurthband had parted and across the walkway on which Sauron had once forged his Master Ring marched the orcs of the tower. They chanted the Black Speech in cold voices though many of them knew not its meaning, they spoke of the fires of Orodruin, of how they would encircle the Earth, of how the iron of Sauron would enslave all who opposed Him. They spilled out of the chambers of Sammath Naur and onto the mountainside where the armies of light greeted them.

    The Uruks of Saruman led the charge up the mountain for they were the hardiest. They met their foes and the orcs were confused and fearful that such beasts would oppose them. Then came the men and they clashed beside their Uruk comrades and a strange sight it was. The Uruk-Hai were led by Uglk and he was greatest of them all for never had an Uruk managed to drink so much blood in a contest as he did on the eve of the march to war.

    Uglk now pushed forward with his shield and brought his sword overhead, cleaving an orc in two. He heard a roar and saw a troll approaching but he held firm, slicing aside two orcs then raising his shield in his defence from the mighty beast’s club. Uglk buckled under the impact of wood and metal but managed to push upwards against the weapon then thrust his blade forwards and up, spilling the creature’s guts onto the mountainside.

    owyn bashed a shield against the helm of an orc and the creature fell stunned to the ground where it was trampled by friends and foes. The Shieldmaiden stabbed her sword through another enemy’s armour and parried a barrage of blows by a Mordor Uruk before blocking the last with her shield and running her sword across its throat. Concerned she saw the orcs near her waver and she roared at them, hoping to inspire further fear. Instead they laughed and surged towards her.

    Alw returned to her tent and took her bow and quiver from where it lay with her other weapons. She then rushed outside as fast as her wound could permit and stopped in a suitable position; she raised her bow and touched an arrow to the bowstring. She drew it back and in her waist she felt as if she was being stabbed by knives but she kept pulling back the string. She could not make it reach her chin but released it and it soared off into the darkness. An orc fell dead. She prepared another shaft, notching it to her bow then releasing it. This time the pain was worse and she doubled over, tears in her eyes.

    She released one last arrow into the darkness and the pain overcame her and she fell to the ground, unconscious.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: Dagor Dagorath VIII: The Sally of Nargurthband - Retreat

    The Sally of Sauron had failed and Aragorn led the attempt to push back the foes of Light. Fear was like a plague and it festered in the enemy’s ranks and the screeches were loud as more and more creatures fell under the blade that was Anduril. Aragorn pushed them back to the bridge of Sammath Naur and there above that flaming chasm he aimed to push forwards into the tower of Nargurthband. It had to be stormed.

    But suddenly there was a loud crash as a mighty Olog-Hai emerged from the darkness of the Prison of Fiery Death and charged towards Aragorn, hurling companions from the bridge as it went. Aragorn too was left hanging by his fingers on the edge and the great beast of Sauron made to smash his club into the former King’s fingers. But the beast stopped as a shining blade emerged through its chest and it roared as it fell backwards and only the lava muffled its cry.

    Aragorn’s grip ceased and he fell but Boromir’s hand grasped his and Aragorn felt safer. He raised his spare arm but could not reach the Steward and all the time the two men’s grip on each other’s limb was waning.

    And the sweat overcame them and they slid apart and Aragorn, Elessar, Heir of Isildur, was lost to the flames of Orodruin.


    The Gates of Nargurthband were locked before the armies of Light could reach them and weary the soldiers returned to camp. Boromir cried out when he saw Alw lying on the ground but he had no tears left to shed. She would live, only pain had overcome her, no wound had opened.

    That night Boromir looked up at the tower of Nargurthband, black against a navy, starless sky. Sauron looked back. In less than a year their final confrontation would come.

    So ended the Year 2998 F.A. The next would be last seen in Middle-Earth.

    Chapter X: 2999 – The Destruction of Middle-Earth

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: Black Powder

    Alw awoke cold and shivering. was the last day of Thrimidge (later known as May) and the wizards’ toil over the creation of the Black Powder would only just be ready to try out on the Gates of Nargurthband. It had to be ready for the world would end in two months time.

    Beside her Boromir stirred, ‘Is it morning?’ he asked.

    ‘Yes,’ she replied and at that moment they heard a voice from outside:

    ‘Sir, Saruman reports he is ready.’

    Boromir grumbled and said, ‘I’ll meet him in a few minutes,’ then to Alw he asked, ‘Can you see what is to come?’
    Alw closed her eyes and when she eventually reopened them she shook her head, ‘Nothing.’
    ‘As in you cannot see anything or that this world will come to nothing?’

    She closed her eyes once more and frowned, ‘There is something – someone. A terrible Lady, half her face is in shadow.’

    A horn blew in the distance, the soldiers were preparing to march upon the tower. ‘This is it,’ Boromir stated and he pressed his lips to Alw’s and not for the first time wished he and she were alone on some beautiful isle where war had never been heard of.


    Saruman inspected the kegs of powder prior to handing them to an Uruk to plant in front of the gate. When finished he looked back over the plateau far below, at the rivers of flame and the millions of soldiers. He wondered what would happen if they achieved their victory, if they killed Sauron. Would His minions die or would they unleash themselves on the forces of Light in a bloody massacre? Would the Uruk-Hai hold the enemy’s major force at the Pass of Nurn or would they fail that?

    Boromir appeared beside him, ‘Ready?’ he asked and Saruman nodded. Boromir turned to his army and shouted, ‘Today we storm the dark tower of Sauron and let this be the end!’

    An explosion sounded in the distance. ‘Steward, Nargurthband is open,’ stated Saruman and Boromir looked into the tunnel of Sammath Naur.


    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: Dagor Dagorath IX: The Storming of Nargurthband

    Boromir and Alw led the charge and the orcs at the gate quailed at their battle cries. They fought under the archway of the Great Gate, man and Uruk together and orc and troll routed from their fury and determination.

    The armies climbed up countless flights of stairs, and the orcs fled or were overrun. It was dark within Nargurthband, few candles flickered in brackets for few of its inhabitants needed light. They reached the penultimate storey and there waited Herumor, the Mouth of Sauron. He fought with determination, though he had little chance and under attack from all sides by Uruk and man alike it was a miracle he survived for as long as he did. Finally he was crushed under a cruel Uruk blade and was no more.

    Boromir, Alw, Thorin, Glorfindel, Merry and Isildur ascended alone to the summit where Sauron waited for them.

    ‘Heroes of Light, so it comes to this at last, then let it end swiftly.’ That said, Sauron swung his mace and only just missed Merry who dived aside easily. But Sauron’s mace continued on its arc and caught Thorin’s jaw, hurling him into a corner where a pool of blood spread out. Isildur rushed forwards but Sauron was too swift and brought his mace down on the man’s helm. Alw rushed forwards and her blade clashed against her foe’s weapon but before she managed to take a knife and thrust it into her enemy’s heart, Sauron thrust his foot into her abdomen and she fell back winded. He swung his mace once more and caught Merry’s chest and the hobbit fell to the floor, Glorfindel leapt at him but he too was thrown to the ground, Boromir raised his sword and thrust it at the demon and it pierced His armour but there was no wound. It would take more than steel to slay Sauron. The Enemy now knocked aside the blade and the disarmed Steward lay at Sauron’s feet and around them, covering the pinnacle of Nargurthband was the mix of the races’ blood.

    ‘See now, Steward. See how none can resist my might. Take my hand and you too shall be invincible as I am, take my hand and all shall obey you, all shall fear you, you will be Lord of all.’ It was not the offer but his words that could persuade any mind, especially the weakest. Boromir shivered as if cold. ‘Rise now Boromir son of Denethor and be Lord of all.’

    And Boromir rose.

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: The Terrible Lady

    Boromir seized Alw’s silver sword that lay in a pool of the races’ blood then rose to his feet. In a swift motion he passed silver sword through the monster’s neck. Sauron’s head, however, did not fall and Boromir watched in amazement as the skin melded back together.

    ‘That’s impossible!’ he exclaimed.

    But within the veins and arteries in Sauron’s neck a new substance spread out and it flowed swiftly and every vital organ it passed expired. The blood of the races, elves, dwarves, men and hobbits, was poisoning Sauron. The Once Lord of the Rings fell to the ground and screamed and from his cruel mouth emerged a black spirit, Melkor and Sauron’s souls bonded together. It did not dissipate but instead flew away, north-eastwards.

    Boromir fell to his knees beside Alw who seemed well enough, only winded. ‘Are you alright?’
    ‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘but what’s that?’

    Something was forming out of the air and at that moment Gimli and Saruman emerged on the pinnacle of the tower. ‘We must go, the foundations are breaking!’ Saruman warned but no one else was heeding him. Gimli stared aghast at the woman’s spirit that was forming.

    Her hair was golden, the right side of her face was beautiful, pure, but that was not the side Gimli saw. The left half was charcoal in colour from the flames that had ravaged it, the eye was black with a pupil of raging fire. ‘Galadriel?’ Gimli murmured.

    The Terrible Lady ignored him and stared into the eyes of Boromir and Alw and said, ‘This is the end, Parents of Mankind. Your task is simple but hard, you must abandon the war to come, ride as if the Nazgl themselves were on your tail and get to the Shire before the 1st of Lithe. You have little time. There you shall find a henge of stone and in it awaits the beings that will endure, make sure you take the Book from Bilbo then the two of you must stand beside the altar stone in the heart of the circle and endure the long wait whilst the world tears up around you. Stay within and you shall be safe. For the sake of all, you must survive. Ride now, ride swift, stay together. Good luck, Boromir and Alw, and Namri.’

    Part IV:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part IV: The Dagor Dagorath

    As Alw and Boromir mounted Arcel and rode into the night, the Uruk-Hai at the Pass of Nurn were destroyed and all the evil that was created by Sauron spilled onto the Plateau of Gorgoroth and there they met the armies of Light for the Battle of Battles, the Final Battle, The Dagor Dagorath.

    It began with the charge of the Rohirrim and mighty Thoden led his people to glory and the swiftest destruction. omer fought bravely until an orc spear brought him to his End. The Lady owyn slew many but when her steed as overcome by the multitudes of orcs around it she was thrown from her saddle and the orcs slew her in the ash. Thoden saw it all but he had had much despair in his lives and in one last heroic deed he felled the mightiest of Attalyangulce with a sharp spear before under a rain of black darts he fell.

    The Dwarves fought the longest and at last only Gimli and Gloin remained but when Gimli saw his father die he entered a rage and his axe caused more deaths than any other Hero could be accounted for. But at last, surrounded on all sides, Gimli was slain.

    The Elves fought leaderless for their true heroes had been lost. But long they fought and as beacons of light they were. The Hobbits too had no true leader and they being the weakest were all lost first.

    The men fought under Elendil and they brought down the orcs and all around them was the ruin of the races but they were last ones present until the Seinangulce overran them and Elendil was battered to death in the hands of an Attalyangulce. And it was over.

    But as the triumphant Seinangulce looked upon their world the fires of Orodruin raged and Nargurthband, its foundations broken, exploded and the fires raged across the entire world and none survived. The day that happened was the Eve of the New Year.

    The World then was remade but the future relied on Alw and Boromir and here follows their tale and it shall be the last I tell:

    Part V:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part V: The Ride of the Parents of Mankind

    A screech sounded behind the riders and Alw looked back over Boromir’s shoulder and saw a great black beast, ‘Oh Galadriel really was tempting fate by saying that!’

    The Nazgl were upon them.

    ‘Are you any good with a bow?’ Alw asked but Boromir shook his head. ‘Let me have a clear view then.’ And uneasily she took her bow from her shoulder and notched an arrow to the string. Awkwardly she stared down the shaft and released it, it soared through the air and struck the leading Fell Beast’s eye. It screeched and fell back.

    ‘Good shot,’ Boromir observed.

    ‘I was aiming for its heart,’ Alw stated, ‘I can’t take them all down, faster Arcel, haste has never been needed so much.’

    One Nazgl swooped downwards and its steed’s claw lunged at Alw but Boromir’s sword obstructed it and the limb severed. ‘Behind us, horsemen!’

    Alw glanced back, ‘The Istari!’

    Gandalf the White led his companions and he held his staff aloft and the Nazgl quailed as the light reached them. Arcel slowed but Saruman shouted at them to ride swiftly and not to stop save for a few hours of rest.

    Thus Alw and Boromir continued to the Gap of Rohan and then to Tharbad and at last they crossed the Brandywine and entered the Shire. They stopped first at the Green Dragon where Bilbo waited. He handed Alw the Book, this Book, and bade them farewell. Arcel came to a halt for he was tired and could no longer continue so alone Boromir and Alw continued to the Circle of Doom.

    Part VI:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part VI: Stonehenge

    Here the hand of Alw takes up the tale.

    It was before sunset on the first of Lithe when Alw and Boromir reached the Circle of Doom: the circle of erect stones that had stood for millennia without reason. It was said that at dawn on that day a peculiar event occurs but this time it would be different.

    Within the circle rested cattle and swine, dogs and cats, there was even two baby Mmakil. There was two of everything and a peculiar scene it was. With great difficulty Alw and Boromir moved to stand beside the Altar Stone and there they waited, clasping the Book.

    That day only one Lamp lit and that was in the east and it shone its light in between the Heel Stone and onto the Alter Stone at the centre of the ring of stone and the light exploded and acted as a shield around the Henge of Stone and that moment was counted as the New Year and in distant Mordor Orodruin and the tower within exploded and the torrents of flame engulfed Middle-Earth and within the Circle of Doom Alw and Boromir and the animals to survive watched all the world rage outside the pillars of stone. They saw trees be uprooted and dissolve into the air, stone cracked under pressure, a Seinangulce’s bones were scattered, fossils were created and others destroyed, all trace of orcs, Ents, Balrogs and the like were obliterated but the fossils of the Sauron’s mightiest creations survived.

    All the History of Middle-Earth was wiped out save for the Book that Alw held onto in a sweaty but firm grip.

    But at last the winds reached inside the henge and dragged beasts and birds across the new world, the Mmakil were taken south, the creatures of the sea taken to water, beasts of the cold taken to the poles. And at last the winds stopped and Alw and Boromir opened their eyes and surveyed their New World.

    In all directions stretched fair green pastures, a few forests were on the horizon. Nearby two sheep bleated but then took a few bites out of the lush grass. Boromir laughed for he and Alw were alone on some beautiful isle where war had never been heard of.

    But then they shivered and turned around and Boromir asked, ‘What is that?’ as a black shape escaped from Stonehenge.

    ‘Evil,’ Alw replied weakly.

    And so began the dwelling of Alw and Boromir in their Earth but the spirit of Melkor-Sauron would endure.

    Continued at Post 9
    Last edited by Inarus; February 07, 2012 at 06:25 AM.

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    Default Re: ***** ******** - The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus. BOOK 1: CHAPTER 2

    I like demons, great start for the dwarfs. Let the Battle begin.

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    Inarus's Avatar In Laziness We Trust
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    Default Re: ***** ******** - The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus. BOOK 1: CHAPTER 2

    Book IV: Earth

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Chapter I: The Dawn of Time

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part I: The Beginning

    It was coming nightfall on the isle, yet to be named, in a world that was Middle-Earth, but was not. One would remark in millennia to come that the geography was similar but all else was lost, all the splendour fashioned by the dwarves, elves and men.

    Alw shivered again and looked down at herself. ‘We’re naked,’ she stated bluntly.

    Boromir looked at Alw and nodded appreciatively.

    ‘I had the Silmarils; did they play any part in this war and creation at all?’

    Boromir looked west and said, ‘They would have given Melkor and Sauron immortality but instead they gave this New World three great beauties. In the End – or be it the Beginning? – did you not see? They were torn from your pocket and rose into the sky above, one shattered into a million stars, one grew into a far greater Ithil than the one that graced the Old World and the last burst into flames and became a far greater star, far greater than fair Anor, a New Sun that now sets over there.’

    And together they stood shivering in the golden glow of the setting sun whilst overhead a ceiling of stars was appearing and it is said that they formed patterns to guide the lonely couple as they searched the beautiful island in search of a new settlement.
    ‘But why are we naked, where are our weapons?’ Alw then looked at the ground, ‘Why do we still have the book?’

    Boromir picked it up and flicked to the final page containing writing: ‘The Ride of the Parents of Mankind, that is us,’ he laughed but then he realised its true meaning, ‘we... we are the only survivors, we are the parents of a new race, just us.’ He paused for a moment, considering the meaning of their new task, then he answered Alw’s question, ‘We are naked because we must start again, a new world,’ he picked up a large stone, ‘new tools, new lands to discover and populate and make magnificent. We shall make cities, more beautiful than Minas Tirith... but we cannot do all that, I guess we shall never see the world in all its beauty.’

    Alw walked over to the heel stone of Stonehenge through which the sun shone on the 1st of Lithe to cast its light on the altar stone of the henge. She knelt down and took up a rock, ‘This is sharp, we shall need such tools, but I have nowhere to put it. Where now?’

    Boromir approached her and looked around, the flat fields stretched out for miles and on the horizon low hills rose up, the former Steward guessed he should make for one of them for a clearer view of the land around them, ‘There, to the west, I would say that is the tallest hill, we should make for that and hopefully we will find a river for water and food.’

    ‘Pity we cannot eat any meat until two cows become a prospering herd, and what about those sheep? We’ll need them at some point and a long trek back here for wool won’t be much good.’

    And in reply the two sheep finished their mouthfuls of grass and approached the two humans.

    ‘They surely will not follow?’ Alw laughed but they did.

    And so the four beings departed from Stonehenge and made their way eastwards towards the hill that over twelve thousand years later was known as the Beacon Hill.

    Part II:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part II: In Search of Settlement

    They passed through dense forests and fertile fields. Two cows came from a field and followed them, as did two pigs later on. About two miles from Stonehenge they came to a river (The River Avon as it is later known).

    They examined the width in either direction but it did not grow narrower, trees lined the banks and Alw observed the long branches as they stretched out far into the middle of the river, some branches managed to touch others from the opposite banks. ‘We might be able to climb them, I would rather not get wet when there is the threat of a cold wind or heavy rain.’

    They proceeded to do so and instantly Alw plummeted into the depths of the river, she screamed, cursed and cursed again. Boromir had the same misfortune and together they swum to the other shore followed by the animals. Alw pulled herself onto the bank and stepped in soft earth, ‘Clay,’ she observed before going on to washing her feet in the water. ‘I guess we shall need such materials, but how would we carry them? We could camp here.’

    Boromir hesitated and walked a few feet to where the trees thinned and he had a clear view of their destination in the distance, ‘I would say it is two miles at the least and there appears to be a waterfall on this side – possibly leading here. We must continue.’

    Alw nodded and cursed as she stepped on a twig, ‘I wish I had the feet of a hobbit.’

    They continued walking for a mile and then stopped for they had come to a field with a herd of at least twelve cows. ‘How did all of them get here? Have we arrived late in this world to allow them time to breed?’ Alw speculated which was all they could do. How long they had been kept frozen in time whilst the animals of Earth spread across the continents none know, perhaps a time will come when archaeology reveals all but so far the tricks of the Creation Storm (as the making of Earth from Middle-Earth is called) have fooled every man who would rather believe fossils than eyewitnesses.

    The two cows that had been following us went to join this herd and completely bemused we continued towards the rising hill.

    They adjusted their route to ascend up the southern side rather than take the more direct but far steeper western face of the fell. By the time they reached the peak the sun was casting its final orange glow that was beautiful from the hilltop. The lands stretched out in all directions, mainly covered in trees but there were some stretches of open fields, plains of grass that were a perfect shade of emerald.

    Alw expressed a feeling of awe, stepped forwards and suddenly the ground collapsed beneath her and she plummeted into darkness.

    Part III:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part III: Shelter

    To say Boromir was worried would be far from an understatement. What if she had fallen too far, he asked himself. What if she could not get out? What if she had broken something? What if... what if... the questions kept coming but Boromir could not see into the hole for an answer: a cloud of dust still climbed from the dark spot.

    ‘I’m okay!’

    Boromir almost laughed in relief. Alw’s voice was not far down and it was steady. ‘Are you hurt? Can you get out?’
    A pause then, ‘I seem to be fine, my ankle’s a bit sore, possibly twisted. There’s a light ahead, from the west, I’ll try to find a way out.’

    Boromir nodded though he was not sure if she could see him, he carefully walked towards the setting sun and soon was descending steeply. Ahead of his course he heard the flow of water and he climbed down to where the grass-strewn hillside gave way to an almost vertical patch of scree. However above the fragments of rock, a ledge wide enough for single file movement led from the gentle southern slope northwards and it was the latter direction that Boromir took. Eventually the path stopped at a rocky outcrop around the mouth of a deep cave from which ran the river Boromir had sighted earlier.

    It was bright inside for many feet but soon the light of the setting sun faded and somewhere in that darkness was Alw. He slowly entered the cave and with great caution proceeded into it depths. He noticed veins of copper and silver in the rock, jewels sparkled in the floor, this was the dawn of time and such luxuries were abundant, even on the surface of the earth. At last Boromir saw a figure ahead, standing and he made to embrace her but then realised it was not Alw but the Terrible Lady. ‘Galadriel?’

    The scarred face moved into the dying sunlight and the Gondorian thought it looked far worse than before, ‘I am here to remind you of what must come, of why you still have the book, and of something you have yet to realise. You are here to start a race and the Valar will aid every one upon this world for this is still something it created, just remember there are very few animals in this world, do not cause any extinctions!

    ‘Alw must take up the writing of the tales to come and those from your arrival in Stonehenge, much will happen, Melkor-Sauron exists somewhere in this world and even now spreads evil into the hearts of animals, beware the possessed and guard you children from the spirit – but eventually some will succumb to the Enemy’s malice.

    ‘Finally, in order to explain your unrealised... situation: once your children are prospering about you, you must retire and as civilisation grows you must seek places in high society but hide. You are the Keepers of Knowledge, the Tristya, and the Book of Knowledge, The End of All Things, must be guarded. You alone saw Middle-Earth, you alone know that it is the truth and this now is your second task, to cloud all that has happened, to shroud in secrecy all that was Middle-Earth for things existed there that should not be known and if magic ever returns to this world it shall be as damaged as was the Arda. When the technology is powerful enough to prove every creation myth wrong, reveal the tale.’

    Boromir did not know what to say as he contemplated her words but he suddenly realised, ‘You did not say what our “situation” is.’

    Galadriel smiled and dissipated but her voice remained to say, ‘You are immortal but beware cold steel and deadly bullet.’

    For a moment there was silence but a noise disturbed his confusion and he immediately wished he had a sword. However it was only Alw, hobbling towards him, ‘Did you just see..?’ she asked.

    They delved deeper into the cave for in their mind, although they had found shelter, they had not found what they truly sought. Finally in the utter darkness they discovered light as the ceiling was once again broken and through cracks the dying light of day reached them and under the hole in the ceiling, stabbed into the stone by an unknown force, crossed at an angle, were their two swords and their clothes. Alw murmured, ‘Why?’ but her question would never be answered.

    And so they settled there until the rise of the powers in the east.

    Part IV:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part IV: The Art of the Hunt

    Alw disentangled herself from the arms of her lover and, snatching up her clothes from the floor as well as her sword, she moved through the cave.

    Where they slept it was wide with a large expanse of dry ground but there the cave ended except for the small crack in the wall that was the source of the river. The slowly flowing water travelled to the mouth of the cave where it finally cascaded to the ground, many feet below, from a lower angle it was beautiful but from the cave mouth it provoked vertigo. Alw looked calmly from the peak of the waterfall though for she had never been a fearer of heights. A forest stretched out below her and then ended abruptly as a sea of grass took over and she gasped in awe as she saw great beings upon them and there were many; they were like elephants but with thick brown fur and far greater tusks. They appeared to be feeding on the surrounding vegetation, curious beasts, she considered going down to see whether or not they were aggressive.

    She felt Boromir brush against her and she turned and kissed him briefly, ‘We need food, at least water won’t be a problem.’

    Boromir surveyed the valley and his eyes fell on the elephant-resembling animals, ‘Do you think they’re edible?’

    Alw shook her head, ‘How in Elendil’s name would we haul a carcass that size up here? And besides, one of those things would feed us for weeks but would be inedible in a few days. There were lots of cows, could maybe find some deer. Let’s hunt.’

    They carefully traversed the ledge to a safer slope then descended into the valley. They severed branches and attached flint to them to create axes and spears, weapons and tools; then they descended further to where Alw had seen the Great Beasts.

    ‘They’re massive!’ Alw exclaimed.

    ‘Mammoth in size,’ Boromir said, awed.

    Alw moved approached the closest; it regarded her with indifference then broke off a large branch from a tree with its trunk. Alw ran a hand through its fur and found it was wool, several strands broke off in her hand, she spoke her thoughts, ‘Wool, so thick the beast must be burning! Do you think there was a strong period of cold? I mean, there’s ice in the cave, I thought I saw snow earlier on the distant hilltops, its hardly warm but I was putting it down to a lack of decent clothing.’

    They continued northwards to where they found a group of deer grazing. They hid in bushes near their prey, Boromir raised a crude spear and launched it into the air, it fell short and clattered into a tree, the deer raised its head, searched for an enemy, saw nothing then lowered its head. Boromir tried hard not to swear audibly, he glanced at Alw who seemed to be surveying the animal with sympathy, then hurled a second spear. It obviously would go wild but the deer had sighted the man’s movement and darted away from the trees, into the path of the spear. It fell dead.

    Part V:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Part V: The Infection Begins

    Alw crouched in the undergrowth and watched the beast carefully.

    It had two long fangs from its upper lip that curled down at a length of at least ten inches! It prowled between two trees ahead, watching a distant mammoth, waiting to strike; unaware that it too was prey, my prey.

    I stepped forward and immediately regretted it as my foot fell upon a twig and the sabre-toothed tiger looked into my eyes and growled.

    ‘Nice pussycat,’ I said timidly and it snarled once more and approached. I lowered my spear.

    Suddenly there was the sound of a stampeding beast and both our heads turned to see the vegetarian mammoth charging towards us with a look that told me two things: it was no longer vegetarian; it was possessed and thirsting for our blood.

    For a second I considered standing before it with my spear but as it tossed aside the sabre-toothed cat like it was a fly I chose the more sensible option, and ran. I saw a figure ahead and shouted, ‘Boromir, run!’ Boromir turned, saw the beast and retreated a few paces, raising his spear. A second later it whooshed through the air and I gasped as something prodded my back. I slowed down and looked behind me, the mammoth had fallen to the floor and skidded to a halt, the spear emerged from its shoulder. I moved closer and ran a finger across its tusk, my finger came up wet with my blood; I massaged my back, it had left a bigger mark than I thought. My hand moved to my abdomen and rubbed it gently, no pain, good.

    ‘Are you alright?’ Boromir had come over and I felt his arm around my waist but I was still cold, something was in the air. Finally the light in the mammoth’s eyes died and from its corpse a black spirit rose, it towered above us, taking the form of Sauron as he was when he faced Isildur and lost the Ring.

    ‘This is not over, Parents of Mankind, my evil is just beginning, look it is already spreading,’ that said Melkor-Sauron dissipated into black sparks that parted in the wind, spreading, IT was always spreading, IT was Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, Pride, above all IT was the Need to Murder and there was plenty of that yet to be attributed to the combined Spirits of the Dark Lords.

    We decided to prepare both animals as food and from the mammoth there was much to salvage, particularly the wool in preparation for the winter to come. We ascended to the cave but it took several trips to haul the divided pieces of mammoth to our shelter – no complaints at the amount of meat though, I was ravenous. However I had to collapse exhausted after carrying my first load of meat to the cave, Boromir asked if I was alright but I was not sure what to say. I was excited but concerned, it would have been better if it had happened when we were settled.

    Finally, as we sat down with mammoth meat (surprisingly delicious, I must say), I announced, confident for all the signs were right, ‘I’m pregnant.’

    And so ten months later I lay restlessly beside Boromir, knowing that the pain and sleepless nights had only just begun. But I had a boy and a girl and so the human race had a future.

    Chapter II: Of Civilisation and the Cult of Tristya
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Of Civilisation and the Cult of Tristya

    It was Arelus and Ela, the Great Grandchildren of the Parents of Mankind, who were the first to migrate to the continent; back then Europe was still connected to England as was Scotland to Ireland. The two travelled far but eventually settled in the east, their settlement would in millennia to come give birth to the founder of the Persian Empire.

    In the thirteenth century B.C., after the City States of Greece were founded, Alw and Boromir moved to live in Athens after despairing at the corruption in wealthy Persia. They saw Greece as a haven of knowledge over gold but they knew that if Greece was to prosper it needed military might and so for the first time Alw opened the Book of Knowledge to outside eyes.

    The Greeks were astonished and their religion grew from their knowledge of the Ainur but many of their tales such as their creation myths and stories of the Gods were twisted to accommodate the Parents’ need for secrecy. Five nobles of great intellect then pledged their allegiance to the Parents and together they became the Cult of Tristya and hid themselves from society. After aiding in the Trojan War and teaching the Greeks the art of the Phalanx as well as other military techniques, the Cult of Tristya moved to where arose the Etruscan Civilisation and, after its fall, Rome.

    The Cult established places in the Senate and aided in the assassination of corrupt and irresponsible Emperors, notably Caligula, Nero and Gaius Julius Caesar himself. However when Christianity became the dominant religion in the Empire the Cult of Tristya left the Capital for Britannia and above the cave where Alw and Boromir had first dwelt they settled and when the Legions vacated the province they raised a great castle and it was named Camelot.

    The year after the founding of the castle, Alw and Boromir travelled to the Highlands of Caledonia where they had heard rumours of orcs but they return satisfied that there was no threat. During their absence they left a Romano-British man named Arthur as King and he fought many wars against the invaders from the across the sea. On the eve of the Parents’ return to Camelot the castle was overrun by Saxons and Arthur slain. The Tristya fled into hiding and when England became a dominant Kingdom they migrated to the capital and there remained secret until the present day.

    It was the Twenty-First Century and it was time.

    Chapter III: The End of All Things
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    The End of All Things

    ‘At six o’clock: Archaeologists have authenticated an ancient manuscript that threatens the existence of religion and the stability of modern civilisation as we know it. Also...’

    That was the news began on the afternoon of that revolutionary day. It was the twenty-eighth of June, 2010. The woman rose from the couch and moved into the kitchen, ‘Come on love, its starting.’ She heard the introductory theme begin and sat down again, her husband beside her, holding her in his arm.

    ‘Good evening and welcome to the BBC News at six.’

    And so it told the tale of how two walkers had discovered the Book in a cave under Beacon Hill near Stonehenge in late January, then how it was identical to the novels of the famous author of the 20th Century, J.R.R. Tolkien (The Cult of Tristya allowed prints of the Book in order to stir up events in preparation of the Great Revelation). Then the News told of how the Book had been certified as a real historic document. By half six the other stories had only been covered in five minutes, but the couple weren’t watching.

    Alw and Boromir stood on the balcony, overlooking the Thames. Not far away were the Houses of Parliament and London Eye. There was a knock on the door, ‘Hold on!’ Alw shouted before nodding at her husband, ‘ready?’

    They rushed to a locked cupboard but today it was open, waiting. ‘We’ve destroyed every religion,’ Alw said as they pulled out a machine gun each, ‘thus we’ve destabilised countries,’ they checked they were loaded properly, ‘We’re now in more danger than Gordon Brown,’ we moved to the door and targeted the people on the other side, ‘These are either our escorts or our enemies,’ Alw glanced through the peephole, ‘assassins!’ that said they squeezed the triggers and hell ensued.

    When their foes’ corpses lay bloody on the floor outside they wasted no time and rushed to the window and jumped. This leap had been practised for such an occasion and it went as planned, they dived into the river and surfaced in time to clamber aboard a waiting boat which transported them downriver. So began the rest of their lives and it was not promising, new homes, new identities waited and every religious fanatic was after them.

    Where they went no tale tells, not even this one.

    So ends the writings of Alw, Dnedain, and Mother of Mankind.
    The End
    Last edited by Inarus; February 07, 2012 at 06:27 AM.

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    Mar 2009

    Default Re: ***** ******** - The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus. BOOK 1: CHAPTER 2

    The Dagor Dagorath (Sindarin for Battle of Battles or Final Battle) is a fictional battle described in the legendarium of J. R. R. Tolkien. As Tolkien's works were conceived as a fictional "forgotten history" of the world, the Dagor Dagorath represents the coming End of the World, and is often referred to as simply "The End". As Tolkien originally wrote it, The Silmarillion ends with a prophecy by Mandos about the Dagor Dagorath. The published Silmarillion ends instead with the recounting of the voyage of Erendil the Mariner, but this is due to an editorial decision by Christopher Tolkien. The remaining clue to this prophecy is found at the end of the Akallabth, where Ar-Pharazn and his mortal warriors who had set foot on Aman were buried by falling hills, imprisoned in the Caves of the Forgotten until the "Last Battle and Day of Doom". Some see the account as similar to the Nordic legend of Ragnark, while others rely on the context of Tolkien's Christian worldview to recognize more consistency with the apocalyptic Battle of Armageddon preceding cosmic renewal.

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  11. #11
    Inarus's Avatar In Laziness We Trust
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    Default Re: Dagor Dagorath - The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus. BOOK 1: CHAPTER 2

    Quote Originally Posted by Maca View Post
    Man you get through a lot of FF's, but that's a good thing, and this one is looking very interesting already.

    Just to clarify, is this in the fourth age, or will it be a fifth age of sorts?
    I was considering but I decided this will define the change between the Fourth and Fifth. I forgot to put the map on, hold on a sec.


    Quote Originally Posted by Borissomeone View Post
    I'm trying to picture this and all I can picture is some guy riding his horse and losing it on a sharp bend...anyway sounds interesting.
    The Rohirrim pride themselves on their horse-craft so what should go wrong? The beasts go wild.

    The Hobbits daren't go outside of the Shire, so what goes wrong? They leave to mingle with the people they hate.

    The Dwarves fearing the Dark?

    The Seindorians vacating their homelands?

    This is gonna be bad.


    And one million Free Peoples aren't gonna win this.

    This needs the dead to be undead.

    The Children of the End shall return for the End of All Things.

    Chapter 1 coming within the hour.

    No guesses yet? Tis pretty obvious.


    Quote Originally Posted by Borissomeone View Post
    Part 1 - short and sweet like a Hobbit.
    and Chapter 2?


    Quote Originally Posted by Borissomeone View Post
    I like demons, great start for the dwarfs. Let the Battle begin.
    Okay I have decided. No one is guessing so here it is:

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    The battle of battles:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    The Final Battle:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    (Google it if you want to know how it ends)
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Dagor Dagorath
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    They all DIE!


    Uhhuh? Thanks for the info Borissomeone, just don't post how it ends.

    Chapter 3 is out!

    The Black Speech translates very roughly as Sha [With]-fli[Sacrifice] Armauk[Enemy] ob [Of] draut[Light] hu-na [Enters] Bot [World] - With sacrifice the Enemy of Light shall enter the world. (Guess who?)
    Last edited by Inarus; December 21, 2009 at 02:19 PM.

  12. #12
    Adamanek's Avatar Libertus
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    Default Re: Dagor Dagorath - The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus. BOOK 1: CHAPTER 2

    very nice Looking forward to the next chapter

  13. #13
    Borissomeone's Avatar Citizen
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    Default Re: Dagor Dagorath - The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus. BOOK 1: CHAPTER 2

    Quote Originally Posted by Inarus View Post
    Uhhuh? Thanks for the info Borissomeone, just don't post how it ends.

    Chapter 3 is out!

    The Black Speech translates very roughly as Sha [With]-fli[Sacrifice] Armauk[Enemy] ob [Of] draut[Light] hu-na [Enters] Bot [World] - With sacrifice the Enemy of Light shall enter the world. (Guess who?)
    Sorry about that.

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  14. #14
    Inarus's Avatar In Laziness We Trust
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    Default Re: Dagor Dagorath - The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus. BOOK 1: CHAPTER 3

    New part!

    This is the picture of the Doors of the Night, I am treating the beasts as those that the Nazgul flew

    MUST have answers to the following:

    Do I refer to Melkor as Melkor or Morgoth?

    WHAT HEROES DO I REINCARNATE? (Apart from those stated by Tolkien).
    Last edited by Inarus; November 10, 2009 at 03:30 PM.

  15. #15
    Inarus's Avatar In Laziness We Trust
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    Default Re: Dagor Dagorath - The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus. BOOK 1: CHAPTER 4

    Here follows the ending of Dagor Dagorath that I am writing in "Full Form". I decided that it was okay for me to post this as it is not how the battle shall end. There will be a twist, like a parallel universe where the outcome is far more worse and shall ultimately be Melkor's act of Genocide of not one race but three (at least)

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Yep there are some spoilers.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Okay you last chance
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    There the forces of the Valar shall fight against Melkor [CENSORED AS THIS MOST LIKELY WILL HAPPEN thus avenging the Children of Hrin (Sindarin: Chn Hrin) and all Men. Then the Pelri Mountains will be levelled, the three Silmarils will be recovered from the Earth, sea, and sky, and Fanor's spirit shall be released from the halls of Mandos to give them to Yavanna, who will break them and rekindle the light of the Two Trees. The battle will end and renew Arda's existence: all the Elves shall awake and the Powers will be young again. Also, according to Dwarven legends, they will help their maker Aul recreate Arda in all its glory again. It is also thought that at that time, the substance that was used to create the Silmarils will be revealed.

    Damn, among many problems: What on Middle-Earth would the Silmarils be made of? Maybe it won't be revealed in this tale.

    MUST have answers to the following:

    Do I refer to Melkor as Melkor or Morgoth? (Favouring Melkor currently)

    WHAT HEROES DO I REINCARNATE? (Apart from those stated by Tolkien)

  16. #16
    Jaguar6's Avatar Campidoctor
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    Default Re: Dagor Dagorath - The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus. BOOK 1: CHAPTER 2: PART ONE

    Shouldn't all the heros be reincarnated, an army of heros

    The Unfinished Tales submod for Third Age: Total War

  17. #17
    Inarus's Avatar In Laziness We Trust
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    Default Re: Dagor Dagorath - The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus. BOOK 1: CHAPTER 2: PART ONE

    Quote Originally Posted by Jaguar6 View Post
    Shouldn't all the heros be reincarnated, an army of heros
    yeah but it's hard to write about them all, I can only focus on a few SO WHICH HEROES DO I FOCUS ON CHIEFLY?

    Hmmm... what part could Smagol play in all this? (Smagol not Gollum (Good not bad))

    Ahh Gimli... He will be welcome.

    Any favourites guys?
    Last edited by Inarus; November 11, 2009 at 05:32 PM.

  18. #18
    Maca's Avatar Decanus
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    Default Re: Dagor Dagorath - The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus. BOOK 1: CHAPTER 2: PART ONE

    Well, because I've only actually read the Lord of the Rings, I'd have to say the heroes from that. But I have heard that the heroes from further back (canonologically (sp?)) were more powerful so...

  19. #19
    Inarus's Avatar In Laziness We Trust
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    Default Re: Dagor Dagorath - The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus. BOOK 1: CHAPTER 2: PART ONE

    Quote Originally Posted by Maca View Post
    Well, because I've only actually read the Lord of the Rings, I'd have to say the heroes from that. But I have heard that the heroes from further back (canonologically (sp?)) were more powerful so...
    But which of the LotR heroes? I cannot write about them all.

    Mmmm yeah I have a problem here. If you have not read the Silmarillion then congratulations, you have sense. I read it not long ago so its slightly fresh in my mind but I guess I should summarise it. Moved to first post.
    Last edited by Inarus; November 14, 2009 at 01:52 PM.

  20. #20
    Adamanek's Avatar Libertus
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    Default Re: Dagor Dagorath - The End of All Things - A Doomsday FF by Inarus. BOOK 1: CHAPTER 2: PART ONE

    Are you going to involve Tom Bombadil in the End of the World? It would be nice to see his superpowers against Balrogs

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