Chapter 1: The battle begins.
On the last day of the great siege of Minas Trinith, the orc commanders decided to launch an all-out attacked on the city. "Grond, Grond, Grond.." The orc hordes chanted, as the great ram moved into position and began to batter down the massive gate of the city. Easterling regiments stood on either side of the ram, ready to swarm in behind the 10 heavily armored assault trolls. As the ram battered down the gate, siege towers began to move up towards the walls. Volley after volley of fire arrows were fired at the towers, each doing little damage to it. A Gondorian commander, by the name of Whittaker, readied his guard for the attack. "Do not show mercy, for you will be shown none. If you go down, take at least two with you." Meanwhile, behind the main gate, a Gondorian captain named Vuras set up some last minute defences. "Bring up those last few arrow bundles and place them by the statue! Archers, form a firing line and prepare for the breach. Warriors, form a line in front of the archers." Meanwhile, at the Citadel, the final preparations for the battle has begun. The King of Gondor, a great warrior named Tamiandrar, began to assemble the Citadel Guards in the courtyard of the White Tree. A lowly guard from a small village by Erech, Kiieis was known for his exceptional skill with the sword and bow. Little did he know, he would forever change the course of the war...
The first siege towers reached the wall, and as the orcs charge forth from the towers, the great gate open. A few seconds after it opened, the trolls charged in, sending men flying left and right. A group of archers open fire, bodkin arrows piercing a troll's skull, killing it. The trolls, instead of destorying the remaining resistance at the gate, instead began to charge up the street heading towards the second gate. As they began to move, Easterlings began to charge towards Vuras' position. He drew his blade and began to charge towards the first few soldiers. The first soldier attempted to stab Varus in the chest, only to have his attack sidestepped and a sword brought down right on his neck, beheading him. The next soldiers saw this and instead took a more defensive posture, shields forming a wall. Varus picked up a fallen soldier's spear and slipped it right through a gap in the wall, striking a soldier's hip. The wall fell apart, allowing Varus to massacre the remaining soldiers. Meanwhile, on the wall, Whittaker moved his men back into a shield wall. The orcs, armed with various different weapons, slammed against the shields. The defenders began to thrust there swords into the guts of the orcs. The first wave fell down, with the few wounded orcs being finished off by the soldiers. "Drive them back! Fight your way to the first tower!" Bellowed Whittaker, pointing his sword towards a nearby tower, where orcs surged out. A few men with bows ran forward and fired a barrage of arrows into the unprotected side of the tower, setting it ablaze. Suddenly, a piecing scream was heard from the east. "NAZGUL!" cried a soldier, right before a black arrow punctured his neck and sent him falling off the wall. "Fall back to the second gate! Fall back!" The soldiers began to fall back, hacking there way to the gate, where they met a pile of dead trolls, filled with arrows and spears. "We've got you covered! Get up here!" said Varus. The soldiers ran through the open gate. When the last soldier got past the safety of the gate, the gate closed. There would be no breakout now.
Chapter 2: The Withdrawl.
As the orcs regrouped and began to head towards the second gate, the commanders made a quick check of the troops. "506 men lost, 237 wounded. We need to hold the second gate for as long as possible." Said Varus, observing the troops as they braced the gate. The third gate was already open. If the second gate fell, they would have to defend the third, fourth, and fifth long enough for help from the north to arrive. "How many arrows do we have? Our archers nearly completely exhausted there supply." Whittaker said, cleaning his sword as he spoke. "My guard have very few bolts left in for the crossbows." The situation was truly dire. Almost a fourth of the defenders were already lost. Nazguls had arrived on foot, and were rallying the trolls and orcs at the bottom of the stairs. Easterlings were moving in behind the orcs, spears and swords blinding all that looked upon them. "What of the King and the Citadel Guard? Will they help?" asked a soldier. The commanders didn't answer. It has been long since the King has tasted combat. The last time something like this happened was during the War of the Ring, nearly 500 years ago.
A orc horn is blown. The host of Mordor began to climb up the stairs to the second gate, every step echoing through the city. The trolls had began to move forward, with great iron hammers that seemed to radiate a sense of bloodlust. A Easterling regiment with massive ladders moved forward, ready to climb them and seize the gate's flag. The Nazgul marched forward, wielding large swords and flails. The Witch-King, armed with a massive axe and sword, pointed towards the gate. The trolls moved forward. "Open fire on the trolls! Bring them down!" cried Varus. Whittaker grabbed a crossbow and climbed to the top of a nearby tower. He pulled out a small flag of Rohan, tied it around a bolt, and fired it right at the head of a troll. The troll died, the blot piercing it's tough skull and right into the brain. The flag blew in the wind. "The West still stands!" he cried. The trolls charged forward and brought there hammers down on the gate. The archers open fired on the trolls, killing two. A few bashes later, the gate broke. Wave after wave of Orc charged through the gate, crushing the defenders. A troll ran in and began to climb the stairs, with orcs and Easterlings trailing behind. The Nazgul came through, slicing Gondorians in half. Varus and Whittaker rallied the remaining troops and fell back to the third gate.
3 hours laters, at the fifth gate. "Brace the gate! Varus, get to the Citadel and warn the King. We must get him out of here." Whittaker said, his armor dented and scratched from the constant fighting. The remaining 400 Gondorians were holding the last line of defence between the gate and the Citadel. The few remaining archers fired the last arrows they had, killing many but they kept charging forth. The gate was near it's breaking point. "We have to fall back! We can hold them at the Citadel!" said a soldier, his comrades looking at him as if he was a prophet. "We need help... Rohan and it's allies will come." Whittaker said. A few minutes later, the gate broke and the men were forced to retreat the Citadel.
Chapter 3: The Citadel.
The Citadel, a great quartz castle where the final stand against Mordor toke place. Here is where the Citadel Guard will make they're last stand with the few remaining soldiers from the fifth gate. Varus and Whittaker disappeared during the chaos of the battle, and the king has felled into the hills, leaving the Guards by themselves in front of throne. The captain of the guard, a brave, tall, and strong man named Sylduin, sat in the Steward's throne, listening to the orcs bash down the massive, iron doors to the Citadel. "It's over, lads. Not even the greatest of warriors couldn't withstand this. Flee, flee from your posts!" he said, despair and madness heavy in his voice. The Citadel guards immediately dropped their weapons and began to run towards the hills. Kiieis was the only one that didn't withdraw. Instead he took a torch, extinguished it, and knocked out the captain. "Return to your posts, men of Gondor! Hold them here, for Rohan is near!"
The Guard began to reassemble, picking up weapons and shields. "Get to the back exit, all of you. We have to hold this area till Rohan arrives." Kiieis picked up a ceramic pot, filled it with oil, and placed it by a column. He prepared the throne room for the battle, making small barricades to help slow down the orcs. Meanwhile, the Guards behind the throne were being attacked by the first orcs. The first few were easily chopped down, but over time, they started to take their toll. A few men were killed when a Black Uruk charged the line, crushing four men with a battle hammer and killing another with a single blow of its fist. Meanwhile, Kiieis ran to a window and began to fire arrows at the bashing orcs, forming a small barrier of dead bodies.
As the brave last stand continued in the Citadel, on the fifth level, Varus and Whittaker were hacking their way through a Easterling division, leaving a trail of golden bodies in their wake. “Get to the Tree! The Citadel Guard is making their last stand there.” Called Varus. Whittaker’s armor was practically destroyed, his sword broken in half. Half way up the stairs, Varus felt a sharp pain in his leg. He looked down and saw an arrow in his knee, causing him to nearly collapse in pain. Whittaker simply picked him up and carried him to the nearest building. He slammed shut the iron doors and ripped some cloth off a hanging tapestry. As he tended to his comrades’ wound, a Nazgul on a fell beast landed on a balcony nearby. It screamed, silencing the battlefield. Whittaker picked up Varus’ sword and stood in front of Varus. A battle of two great warriors was about to erupt. Varus had only an old, elven dagger to defend himself. The Nazgul slashed at Whittaker, his sudden attack catching the defender off guard. Whittaker ducked and attacked the beast’s knees. The sword cut it, causing it to stumble back and giving Whittaker a chance to stab it in the chest. The blade was stopped by a strange force, sending Whittaker flying backwards into the wall. The Nazgul moved towards the confused commander, still trying to get to his feet. It stepped over Varus, thinking him to be dying and beyond help. The Nazgul picked up Whittaker by the neck and prepared to stab him with a small Morgul dagger. Right before it stabbed Whittaker, a dagger went right into its back. Varus, as weak as he was, managed to get up and stab the Nazgul with his last line of defense. Whittaker then fell to the ground, picked up his sword, and stabbed the nazgul right in its neck. So passed the Nazgul, and right after it died, a great horn was sounded. Rohan and the Lords of the Free People of the west had arrived. The battle of Pelenor Fields had begun.
Chapter 4: The Battle of Pelenor Fields.
The city began to empty out, first starting with the few orcs and Easterlings remaining on the first, second, and third levels. Kiieis, seeing that the bashing orcs had suddenly became focused on something else, opened the doors of the Citadel and charged out like a bat out of hell. Whittaker and Varus limbed out, each with their own wounds. They witnessed Kiieis chop down 50 orcs without stopping. Other survivors came out of hiding, among them being a great elven healer. He spotted the wounded commanders and ran over. As the elf tended the men’s wounds, Kiieis rallied some warriors and began to clear the fifth level. The gate’s banner was riddled with holes from arrows. As Kiieis approached it, a couple of Uruks with weapons drawn charged at him. The leading uruk stabbed at him with a spear. It’s spear was grabbed and pushed right back at him, the unexpected attack throwing him right into its comrades’ sword. Kiieis took advantage of the shock and beheaded two more uruks and cut another uruk’s stomach open. About 50 minutes later, the unexpected counter-attack drove the orcs all the way to the main gate. Varus and Whittaker, mounted on two chargers, approached a small command post set up by a statue. “Hail commanders, I was just about to lead another counter-attack. Care to join me?” asked Kiieis. The commanders dismounted, picked up some new swords, and nodded.
Meanwhile, on the fields on Pelenor, the king of Rohan, Fasterd the Strong, and his allies, Amaras, lord of Rivendell, and Gamil, lord of Moria, amassed the armies of the west for a great charge on the orc lines. “We have three major objectives, Harlond, the main gate, and Ramas Echor. Each is heavily defended by thousands of orcs, Easterlings, and other beasts. Rohan will make for Harlond, using our heavy cavalary to smash through their lines. Gamil, you head towards Echor. The Easterlings are the main force there. Amaras take your men and meet up with the Gondorians there. Any questions?” said Fasterd. The lords of the west didn’t speak a word. Instead, they nodded and left the area, each running towards their troops. Fasterd walked towards his captains and told them the plan. He picked up his sword and shield, mounted his charger, and got out the horn of Rohan. He blew it, signaling the attack had begun. Heavy calvary, with horse archers following close behind and light cavalry on the flanks began to thunder down towards the orc ranks. The dwarves, riding great armored boars and bears, charged down, axes and battle-picks ready to taste their ancient enemies’ blood. The silent and deadly elves marched towards the gate, their old swords and spears still sharp from years of combat and their bows and arrows still ready to end the lives of the fell mockeries of Morgoth. The battle was about to begin.
In the city, when the horn was sounded, the men of Gondor began their attack. The orcs, trained for attack and not defence, were cut down by the swords of the western lords. Varus, Whittaker, and Kiieis fought as one, each man cutting down 25 orcs every 30 seconds. The base of Grond was overrun by Gondorians. The first elves reached the main gate, slicing a path straight to Whittaker. Amaras’s armor was covered in orc blood. “Hail Gondorians. We bear a message from the elves of the north. An Alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago we fought and died together. We come to honor that allegiance.” Said the lord, each word seeming to echo with elder knowledge. The commanders were clearly caught off guard by this. As the dwarves charge into the Easterling defenses, their steeds became deadly warriors. Bear and boar alike decimated the Easterlings, their master’s axes chopping off arm and leg off. The shock of the attack echoed through the Easterlings. Gamli charged right towards the leader of the Easterlings. Using his hammer to crush and bash his way towards the leader, Gamli was like a great dwarven lord of Belegost. When he reached the commander, he simply took out a throwing axe, drove it into his enemies’ torso, and brought his hammer down into his head, the skull and brain exploding into a mush of brain and bone. Rohan’s charge cut right through the heart of the orc host, killing hundreds and decimating the morale of the dark lord’s army. The orcs began to retreat towards the safety of Mordor, but only met the axes, hammers, battle-picks, and crossbows of the dwarves. Rohan spilt into two spears, one heading towards Minas Trinith and the other heading towards the dwarves. The elves and Gondorians cut their way towards the Rohhirim, leaving death and destruction in their wake. By the end of the day, the orc host had been destroyed. So ended the battle of Pelenor Fields.
Whittaker, Varus, and Kiieis met up with their fellow commanders. “So, what now? The host of Mordor has been destroyed, the siege has been broken, and we have driven them to Minas Morgul.” Asked Varus, looking at the massive slaughter around him. “I say we take the fight to Morgul and the Black Gate. This battle has decimated Sauron’s armies and left him practically defenseless.” Said Gamli, his rage still not completed subsided. “No, now we rest and recover. We have a city to rebuild and a field to clear. The battle of the west is over, the war in the east has begun.” Said Kiieis, the new Captain of the Citadel Guard.
THIS IS NOT MY BIG STORY. I CAME UP WITH ALL OF THIS A FEW DAYS AGO. Anyway, big story should be up in about a week or so. My fingers grow tried from typing.
Causalities for dwarves: 1,500
Causalities for elves: 1,000
Causalities for Rohan: 2,500
Causalities for Gondor: 5,000
Causalities for orcs: 130,000
Causalities for Easterlings: 50,000
Total losses: 190,000 men lost. Countless wounded.
go write lord of the rings 10
