Not sure how this will be taken by people. It may be that you all consider it the utmost blasphemy etc. etc. but I shall try it out anyway. What I would like to do is create a selection of writings related to LOTR, made by players of this game, for other players of the game. They can be about anything you like, whether in sequence with something Tolkein wrote or as an alternative to what was written (My first writing will be an example of the latter.) Anyone unsure how this will work just ask your question
Okay, now on with my first. It takes place at the Battle of the Morannon, and well....I'll let you decide your opinion:
"Down from the Ashen Mountains in the East there poured a vast horde of Men from the far lands in the East. From hundreds of caves bored into the mountains, an endless host of Uruks spilled down into the desolation before their Master's realm. Horns blew, drums boomed. The Black Gate opened ponderously, as the Lord of Mordor sent forth his vast forces, emptying his land for this final destruction of his hated foes.
The host of the West looked out upon the hordes that now surrounded them, and were struck silent in their horror. Not for the certainty of death that they saw were they silenced; their venture had been doomed to fail from the start. But there, at the forefront of a host of Men all armoured in crimson and black with proud but evil faces, strode the Enemy. The War was drawing to its' end, and the Lord of the Rings had come to claim what was his.
Upon a mighty steed he rode, even as his servants the Ringwraiths in the North. But dreadful and corrupted was the wretched beast; dark as the Void into which the Great Enemy was cast, with eyes that burned with hatred and malice, as if the flames of Thangorodrim were ablaze once more. Terrible as the creature was, it was but a passing thought to the Men of the West who gazed in horror; for the Dread Enemy had come at last, and all hope had fled. A blackness was behind him, that no light could touch; but He walked in full sight, the more to put terror in the hearts of his foes. Taller than any child of Men even in the Elder Days he walked, shadow taken form in a dreadful armour of some long forgotten metal. Clothed at last in his dwarf-forged armour he walked, a cloak of sable flying in the dread wind he cast about himself. And upon the emptiness above the neck was a mighty crown, made by long labour and terrible cruelty as a mockery of the Kings of Gondor. Red as blood and hard as mithril, it was cast in the likeness of the crown of the long forgotten Kings of Numenor. Upon the dreadful crown was scribed, in the foul language of the Black Land:
'In Shadows I was forged. In Shadows I shall rule. The West will fail, and Darkness will cover All.'
As the dread figure approached, his vast army arrayed behind him, hope left the Host of the West, and many cast themselves down in a fearful despair. Even the light of the White Rider was dimmed in that desperate moment, and the mockery of the vile maggot-folk rang in the ears of all.
Yet even as hope failed and strength fled, the bowed head of King Elessar lifted once more. A cool breeze stirred his hair, and in the midst of the darkness that had fallen he smiled and cried aloud:
'A wind from the West! A wind from the West! We are not forsaken, do not despair!'
And as he spoke, all became aware of the stirring breeze. The darkness about the Enemy was blown away in tatters, and a smell of wholesomeness and goodness was carried on the Wind. Raising the Blade that was Broken before him, Aragorn, King of Gondor and Arnor, Lord of Minas Tirith and descendant of Numenor, cried aloud a challenge to the Lord of Barad-dur. And his challenge was answered.
In fury at the renewed hope of his foes, the dreadful Lord of Mordor order his forces to strike, and he himself entered the fray. Where he walked, no man could master their fear, and their bodies was struck down by his mighty black blade. Before him a path was carved, and soon he and King Elessar stood before each other.
"So, thou art the fool from the North who claims the title of King and leads this rabble I see before me. It is thou who has stolen what is mine by Right, and seeks to overthrow me!" spat Sauron in his corrupt and terrible voice. "Yet I perceive that thou art only a puppet of the Grey Fool. Can you dance, little Puppet?"
So saying, he swung his dreadful blade, and darkness seemed to follow its path. The blade of Aragorn caught it, and parried it with great effort.
"I am no man's puppet, oh Lord of Maggot-Folk. Fall now into the Abyss that awaits you!"
Again the blades met, and shadows seemed to flicker down their length. For a moment Aragorn was blind, and darkness clouded his vision. With great strength of will, he mastered himself, calling up all memories that remained of his joyful days in Imladris. The blindness lifted, and the blades met once more. Long and fierce was the duel between those two who were bitter enemies, and the forces of both sides around them paused in their awful battle to watch their leaders fight. Long did they fight back and forth, but at the last, overcome by fatigue of body and mind, Aragorn tripped forward, and fell at the feet of his hated Foe.
Cruel laughter echoed from the emptiness beneath the crown, and red fires flashed where there should have been eyes. "And so thou falls. Let all bear witness to the ending of the Kings. Let all see that there is but one King in Middle-Earth, who is mightier than all. Now die, beggar of the North. Die and know that thy people will suffer great torment and slavery for your insolence. Die, and know that she who you called Arwen Evenstar shall sit in servitude and torment by my side until the end of days. Now die in despair!"
With that, the blade of flickering shadows was raised above his head for the final killing blow. But even as he raised his great sword, a great terror fell upon the Lord of Mordor. At last he saw how he had been deceived. At last he understood the actions of the Host of the West. In a madness and terror, he turned from his quarry and dashed in blind fury to his terrible steed, calling his Nazgul as he fled. Even on the brink of total victory, at this last moment, when all had been won, some hateful creature had carried His Ring to the heart of His realm. In fear and rage, he mounted his awful beast and with haste greater than that of the North Wind he rode towards Mordor, and the peril that awaited him there."
Well, there it is. The idea was that it is an alternative to the battle of the Black Gate, showing that Sauron was superior to Aragorn, but was defeated at last by his own arrogance/ignorance....
Anyway, not by any means perfect, and the writing leaves much to be desired, but I tried.
Dare I say it but..... any thoughts? *takes cover behind overturned table*