The Coming Storm of Isengard

[MIDN Mainolfi]

Howdy! I'm actually not a follower of the Lord of the Rings, however, I am willing to give any mod that I can get working a try. And though I'm still not a follower of LoTR, I do have to say that all of the mods based on it for the Total War games are absolutely fantastic, and fun to play. I love to write, and have recently emerged from a hiatus due to RL, and am trying to get the creative juices flowing again. I do not know what will become of this, it might not make it past this entry, but I figured who better than to look it over than the fans of this mod, and of LoTR.

I felt the need to write something on this topic, so I would like to know how I've done. If you wouldn't mind leaving a comment on it's quality, I would appreciate it. I have also recently adopted different styles into my own, and would like to know if I have improved. Thanks!

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Prologue: Death at the Fold


Grey skies rolled over Foldburg as Theodred unblinkingly stared at the black mass of evil and corruption that stood before him on the horizon, slowly coming to terms with the destiny chosen for him that he hadn't a choice but to accept. A man with golden, shoulder-length hair ran up to him, followed by the rest of the Rohirrium Militia under his command. He tore off his helmet to reveal a tired, bearded face that couldn't conceal, with any amount of effort, the anguish that was filling the man's heart.

"M'lord," he gasped with the thick, burely accent of an experienced Sergeant, "We've slain a great number of the foul beasts, but our numbers are too few; we couldn't hold their advance."

Theodred nodded slightly, still wearing his grim look of uneasy acceptance. He gazed toward the oncoming horde, which had now erupted into a full sprint toward him; the cursed, cracked skin of the orcs, and the dripping, razor-sharp teeth of the horrid wargs were quickly coming into clear view. Theodred quickly shot a look to the Sergeant waiting on the ground, his horse becoming uneasy.

"Sergeant, I want you and the rest of your men to evacuate eastward with the people!"

"But, M'lord, I can't---"

"Those people need your guidance and protection, or they'll never make it! Go eastward, and take as many people who remain alive in Rohan territory with you as you can! When you reach Helm's Deep, tell Gamling of what has happened here! Tell him of the coming storm of Isengard!"

The ear-piercing screech of the orc's battle horns filled the air, "Go! Quickly!"

The Sergeant gave Theodred his silent debt of gratitude and eternal respect, and disappeared with his men amongst the chaos of the village, the sound of the horns stirring the people into a panic. Theodred looked ahead; the detailed features of the savages had now come into full view. It was time to meet with destiny.

"Men of Rohan," he shouted with a proud, unstinting voice, "We stand together today to defy the will of evil! To defend the first bastion of Rohan against a wicked plague of hate not born of this realm! Do not fear your destiny, embrace it! Welcome it with open arms! For we are the defenders of Rohan, the guardians of all that is good, and all that basks in the light! Our souls have nothing to fear!"

'Only a hundred yards away now', "CHARGE!!!"

Theodred and his congingent of Eored Lancers sprang foward on their majestic steeds, the earth trembled in their wake. A fierce, unified cry erupted from the core of every man, assuring their foe that they would stand to the last. They quickly closed the gap between they and their enemy. Their unnatural sounds began to fill their ears, their disgusting stench began to fill their nostrils. Theodred inhaled deeply as his eyes grew wide before the impact......

*****
Baldred trudged up one of the many eastern hills that made up the landscape, his entire people surrounded him, somberly marching to a land most had never been, and all had hoped was safe. Was this the action of an honourable man? Should he have stayed behind with Lord Theodred? A wail erupted from an older woman who had made it to the crest of the hill. Tears streamed down her face, and she quickly fell to her knees. Baldred rushed up the hill to her aid, but soon discovered that he could do nothing to sooth her as he gazed upon a thick cloud of black smoke rising up from Foldburg in the distance.

[SHaDoWxCrUsAd3r]

I liked it, i thought it was very detailed.

[Darth_Revan]

that was very nice I enjoyed it

[MIDN Mainolfi]

Thanks Shadow! Welcome to the forums! You as well, Darth! Thanks for taking the time to read it! I have decided that I might as well go ahead and see where I can go with this. I will likely continue until I get stuck in the story, lose the game, or just lose interest. Right now though, I am really glad that I have taken the step into this "realm". Here is the first (small) part of Chapter 1!

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Chapter 1: The Coming Storm of Isengard


A lone rider clad in white robes atop a white horse rode in silence along the gently flowing Emnet river, the sounds of the bugs, birds, and the trotting of his majestic steed's hooves were all that filled his ears. He had emerged from the dense, mysterious forests of Fangorn to the north, adjacent to the southernmost ranges of the Misty Mountains, home to the vile and treacherous hordes of the orcs of Isengard. The purpose of his re-emergence to this realm was perfectly clear, but the future was to be molded by so many, and so few of them possessed the necessary wisdom of knowledge, that even the oldest and wisest of wizards could not fortell what it would hold.

A soothing breeze rolled in from the west, gently caressing what litte of the rider's face wasn't covered by his thick, bushy, white beard. The breeze intensified, and his silky, white hair began flowing furiously behind him. A thick bundle of black clouds had built up in the distance to the west, far beyond that of a few days' journey. A storm was coming, but the lone rider knew this storm was made up of nothing of nature, nor was it a creation of the Gods' will, but the twisted by-product of the most corrupt minds, of the blackest hearts.

The rider's gaze was drawn to the menacing clouds; he tried desperately to avert his eyes, but to no avail. An agonizing pain shot through his mind and body, as though he had fallen into the endless fires of Mordor! Countless images of death, suffering, famine, and plague played over and over again in his mind! The black smoke of a thousand burning villages began to overcome him!

The rider grunted as he slumped over his horse, which had continued on it's path. His heart was racing, his mind in shock. It had felt as though the hand of evil, itself, has clasped it's cold, stinging hand around his soul. The rider took another hesitant look to the skies ahead. Lighting had begun striking fiercly and repeatedly as the booming of thunder echoed throughout the land. Something terrible was soon to happen...........

[Darth_Revan]

hey! its Gandalf!! I wonder where he is going

[MIDN Mainolfi]

[RoyalGhost]

It's nice, but i think that little pictures will take me more active reading (dont like to read very long text after each ofter)

[Darth_Revan]

maybe he wants us to use our imagination

[MIDN Mainolfi]

Indeed, I don't like to use screenshots. Thanks for taking the time to read it, Royal, but this will be a strictly text aar. Unfortunately, I hit a bit of a snag. I had this whole write-up that was ready for posting that would be based around the orcs besieging Helm's Deep, but when the reinforcements arrived from the script, the orcs retreated.

Now I have to see if I can reload the game enough times to get them to stay, or somehow manage the last-minute withdrawal from a couple of pages of build-up!

[MIDN Mainolfi]

I've got it figured that I should be able to get away with this entry regardless of what happens with the story.......I hope.......
Anyway, here's the continuation of chapter 1:

______________________________________________________________

Thousands of cruel feet simultaneously struck in the ground, clad in armour forged in the bowels of the deepest mountains of Isengard, in a world of unspeakable evil where the wicked flame never died, and the production of industry eternal. A shockwave ripple through the earth with each passing step as the horde of incalculable evil marched unhindered with but one sole purpose: to destory the realm of men, to cast an eternal shadow over the lands that grew green, to replace the gently warming rays of the sun with the smoldering heat of molten rock.

They had emerged from the west, where the land was emerged in a veil of shadow, where the future of the new world already existed. Where barren earth and jagged rock had replaced lush grass and rolling hills, where deforestation helped to fuel the undying fires of the new industrial order. Bagapur grinned at the thought of gutting another human like a pig, their squealing in their moment of death was like sweet music to his ears.

His warg snarled at another that had drifted too close. It, too, had already soaked it's tongue with the flesh and blood of man and horse in the last grand feast, and had developed an insatiable craving that had tended to make it a little more......hostile.

'Don't worry, sweet thing, you'll drink the sweet nectar again soon enough!'

The last defensible bastion of men in this realm lay just ahead over the horizon, amidst the valley and the mountain. It wouldn't be long now.........

[KaRoU23]

You really know to write well!!! Keep going!!!

[Darth_Revan]

damn good writing friend!

[Spike]

I hope you don't meet Eowyn and forced to gulp any horrible food she made

[MIDN Mainolfi]

Sorry for the lack of updates guys, I was out of town for a little while, and I've now fallen ill. I'll try to get another post up A.S.A.P.

[Darth_Revan]

Sorry for the lack of updates guys, I was out of town for a little while, and I've now fallen ill. I'll try to get another post up A.S.A.P.

get better buddy take ur time

[MIDN Mainolfi]

Okay, I've mostly recovered from my summer flu, not fun

This is the end of chapter 1, it's very dull, and I don't believe as well written as the other entries, but I just needed to close the chapter. So, here is the not-so-thrilling end to chapter 1!

_____

The sun had barely risen above the eastern mountains as Baldred gazed upon the ancient architecture of Helm's Deep. Countless stories had been passed down through generations long gone of the Sea-Kings and their legendary construction of this pillar of Gondor that unwaveringly protected the lands within it's eternal gaze. The Deeping Stream flowed gently beneath his feet as he began the humbling approach up the long, crescent path to the gates, and the Hornburg Tower stood radiantly against the morning sun as it pierced the heavens. As a child, Baldred had often fantasized of being amongst the ancients manning the Deep's unfaltering walls against the endless tide of evil against her gates. He had never before been here, but it was as magnficent as he dreamed.

His mind was quickly reverted back to reality as the somber procession of his people continued to quietly parade past him. Walking the upward, crescent path to Helm's Gates wasn't as glorious as he'd hoped........

******

An elf, a man, and a dwarf dashed across the flat, open fields of Eastemnet toward the Emnet River. A red sun rose on their backs.

"Blood was spilled this past night." The elf commented as he gazed back over his shoulder. His tone was soft, as always, but worried; his proud, unflinching brown eyes were not blind to the danger that surrounded them.

"Rarely does a night pass when it is not." The man called back to him. His voice was often filled with an uneasy acceptance of the coming tide, but it was always lined with a fierce determination to overcome it.

The short-legged dwarf gasped for air through his thick, overgrown red beard, breathing cursed to the Gods, and motivational wisdom to himself. He stood only a few feet from the ground, and bore a few feet around his mid-section, characteristically of his kind; a deadly race it was.........over short distances.

"Hurry up, Gimli," the elf shouted back, "You don't want to get left behind!"

"Yes, madam!" He shouted in a deep, booming, burely voice, "Oh! My deepest apologies, Legolas! With your pretty blonde hair, I mistook ya' for a woman!"

"What a coincidence," Legolas chuckled, "I was just thinking you looked adorable in your little iron skirt!"

"Damn long-ears......."

The Emnet river had finally come into view, the red sun eerily reflected off of the gently flowing water. The man stopped suddenly, and began wandering around in circles, carefully studying the earth.

"Aragorn," Legolas called out, "What do you see?"

"Riders have come through here recently," He replied while moving away a few blades of grass, "Many hundreds of them. They are riding north, fast."

"Let's move on to the river," Gimli gasped, "I could use a drink!"

Gimli nearly fell in face-first when they reached the river. Legolas ran ahead to the crest of a nearby hill, and began carefully scanning the horizon. Aragorn poured a handful of water over his head. As he reached for another, he spotted hoove prints in the river bottom through the crystal clear water of the Emnet. He began following them down river.

"What is it, Aragorn?" Gimli asked as water dripped from his beard.

"A horse walked along this river. A different breed than the others. It was alone. "

Aragorn studied the indents more closely, "It had a rider."

"A single rider?" Gimli gawked, "Who dares ride alone in these parts?"

Legolas ran in a full sprint back to the river, "Black clouds loom in the west. They move south!"

Aragorn washed the mud from his hand, "We must hurry!"

[Darth_Revan]

lone rider..hmm who could it be.. nice how you incorporated aragorn, legolas, and gimli running through the plains of Rohan like in the film Two Towers

[timpi]

you should write a book, you already have a few dedicated readers!

[Darth_Revan]

you should write a book, you already have a few dedicated readers!

[MIDN Mainolfi]

Well, I'm glad you think so. Thanks for reading! A battle scene is coming up pretty soon, just have to do a couple of more character introductions, and pre-battle build-up. Here is the beginning of chapter 2!

Chapter 2: Westward March

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

King's Land was mere hours away from being submerged in the shadow of the mountains of the Deep as the white rider passed through the gates of Edoras. People immediately fixated their unblinking gazes upon him as he began his slow ascent up the winding dirt path that led to Meduseld at the crest of the hillside royal town. From this point, the Golden Hall was allowed an unhindered gaze into the farthest depths of the lands of the Rohirrim.

A slight smile crept across the white rider's face as he gazed upon the face of the stone arches of the Golden Hall. The slowly dying sun in the west still magnificently reflected off of the outer walls of the great hall. He began gingerly climbing the great stone steps to a familiar face awaiting him at the top.

"Well, if it isn't a rider of Rohan," he spoke in a soft, gentle tone. "Standing like a pillar of stone to greet a crumbling old man, are you?"

"It's good to see you again, Gandalf!"

The man had brown, well-groomed hair in a similiar length to Gandalf's, and spoke with a light, burely tone that rang out with an abundance of steadfast self-confidence. His beard was a much darker shade of brown than his hair, and he bore a smile that instantly charmed anyone who saw it.

"You've come to call on my father?"

Gandalf nodded. "Indeed, I have. A grim tide is soon to befall Rohan that will cast the land in eternal shadow. The Rohirrim will soon be tested, Eomer."

"We will be ready, Gandalf!"

Gandalf presented Eomer with a kind smile, and a gentle pat on the shoulder before walking through the large wooden doors of Meduseld. Long rows of columns lined either side of a long central walkway that led to the throne sitting atop a raised platform. Rows of candles were already lit, prepared for their nightlong responsibilites, but the windows of the western wall were still taking in as much as they could of the fading sunlight.

Gandalf his walk down the long corridor toward the throne, his elegant white staff echoed as it struck the floor. A man rose from the throne, a smile adorned his face. He was an elder man, and his sandy-blonde, shoulder-length hair and goatee had begun greying years ago. Even through his smile, it was obvious that his aging, green eyes were constantly gazing upon memories of old, of a time long gone, although they hadn't lost the pride of a king.

"Gandalf, my friend, it has been too long since you've walked my halls!" He announced in a high, proud voice that seemed to be permanently coated with exhaustion.

"And, my dear King Theoden, it has been far too long since I have kept a King as my company! But, I'm afraid I've not come to correct this injustice this day. Rohan, and your people, are in danger!"