War of the Ring: Volume I

[Yodaman]

This story has been planned since 2002. Now, this story will finally come to be. So please sit tight and enjoy the first episode of WAR OF THE RING!

WAR OF THE RING
VOLUME I
BY YODAMAN

The Fellowship has just made out from Rivendell. Saruman has just begun breeding his massive army of Uruk-Hai. The Witchking is beginning to mass his forces on the orders of Sauron. The War of the Ring is about to begin. Nobody in Middle-Earth is aware of the terrible events brewing around them. All except for Gondor, which is an easy target for Sauron, due to its close and strategic position from Mordor. Denethor, the steward of Gondor, is becoming more corrupt as the days go by. The army of Gondor, now lead by Faramir due to Boromir’s absence, isn’t making that much progress. Their main stronghold of Osgiliath is about to fall, and a massive army of Orcs has been ordered to destroy the city. But even though the hope for Middle-Earth’s survival seems dim, there is hope, even though it is in the least expected place.

CHAPTER I
CLIMAX OF LIFE

Ten years later

“Come on!” yelled a blue eyed, blonde haired, elf named Amanadan. “Old man Ang is telling another story!” Amanadan had fair skin and carried a bow and quiver on his back.

“COMING!” came the yell of Mîrien, his sister. She had sun-bleached skin, very light blonde hair and blue eyes that you could get lost in They both ran across the plains of Mirkwood to hear Ang’s latest story. He was a scraggly elf with deep blue eyes and a smile that warmed the room. Old Man Ang, or more commonly known as Anganca, was a veteran of the War of the Ring, and all the children loved to hear his stories. Amandan and Mîrien were his biggest fans, but practically every one of the Silvan elves in Mirkwood came to hear his stories. There had been no battles since the Battle of Moria, which ended 8 years ago. Just a few months ago, this dying elf came and told them stories that even rivaled the old tales of Numenor. But every time he told a tale, the people would notice he would be getting sicker and sicker. People from all over Mirkwood brought him gifts and nice food dishes they would make, but Ang just but them aside and never paid any attention to them.

“Hurry!” cried Amanadan. “He’s about to start!” They then ran in the hut that Ang always rested in. The second they busted in, Ang looked at them and smiled.

“I’m glad you came”, said Ang. “For this tale would be meaningless without you as witnesses. Welcome, all Elves of Mirkwood. For I have a grand tale for you. One that will shock you and enlighten you, for it is my best tale ever. It is the tale of the countless soldiers that fought in this War of the Ring. It is of how you are still standing here alive and happy. It is a tale of my friend Aralokë Sunshadow, who is the reason I am still alive today.” Amanadan and Mîrien were awed and afraid. Ang’s description of the tale made it seem like this could be the grandest tale they will ever hear. But somehow it felt like this would be the last tale from Ang they would ever hear.

“Now, where was I?” asked Ang. “Ah, yes. It all started in this very city. In the city of Menegroth.”

Please post all your reviews here. Also, please come here next friday for the second episode. Thanks

[Nurvingiel]

This looks interesting Yodaman, I'll check it out next Friday too.

This only thing I would change is this "She had sun-bleached skin" to sun-browned maybe? Unless she's a plant, the sun wouldn't make her skin lighter.

Cheers, Nurv

[Yodaman]

CHAPTER II
THE PROPHECY

This tale starts about ten years ago, right after the Fellowship of the Ring set out. I was a captain of king Thanduil’s personal army and I led a battalion of about 675 wood elves. Life was pretty busy for us back then, with armies of Orcs and spiders living right next door. We never got any news from outside our own realm, so we never knew about the war brewing behind us. I’ll begin this story with Aralokë, who is the hero of this tale. According to my source (Aráto Windrunner, who is Aralokë’s best friend), they skipped training and went deep into the forest with Aráto and two other friends, Hinilin and Duinrama, to spar. They were all fighting each other on top of a flat, green in no teams with no strategy and no rules.

“Watch my moves”, said Hinilin, one of the two comrades. He then spun around in a circle, hitting each friend’s armor, and then grabbing a dagger out of his pocket and pretending to stick it up Aralokë.

“You call that a move?” said Aralokë. He then pushed Hinilin, who fell down. “Now that’s a move”.

“Oh yeah?” teased the other two elves.

“Yeah”, said Aralokë. “You have a problem with that?” Then the two elves pushed Aralokë on top of Hinilin and then all four of them rolled down the hill. After a good minute of rolling, the foursome hit a large rock. Aralokë got up and realized that they were at the edge of a stream. And in the stream he saw a group of Elven girls bathing. One of them was Laurelin Bluecloud, a girl that he had been fond of for some time. His parents had been pushing him to marry her for some time, but Aralokë put his duties ahead of his personal feelings. But now, just staring at her, made him wish he could change his priorities. She was inhumanly beautiful. She must’ve been a Valar. Without thinking, Aralokë muttered “Tinúviel”, just as Beren had done to Lúthein all those years ago. Laurelin, who heard his comment, covered herself up with a towel. She then waved at Aralokë, who waved back at her.

“Tinúviel”, muttered Aralokë once again. Laurelin laughed at his remark. All of a sudden, Aralokë got dizzy and fell over. He saw his friends come up to him and ask if he was okay, but all he could hear was laughing. Cruel, menacing laughing that could scare even the bravest of the brave. He then realized that he was in King Thanduil’s throne room with Prince Faramir of Gondor and I.
“My lord”, said Faramir. “We were ambushed at Osgiliath a mere few days ago. We had no warning, no aid, and no way to defend ourselves. Will you help us?”

“I will depart for Osgiliath at once”, I said. Then, the laughing continued. The setting then changed into a burning Mirkwood, which was being swarmed by Orcs. While the screams from every man, woman, and child in the forest could be heard, the Nazgul were screaming as they rode strange fell beasts over the city, creating carnage everywhere they went.

“Please!” yelled King Thanduil. “What have I done to you?” Aralokë turned around and saw that a Nazgul in strange armor was holding Thanduil by the throat.

“Everything”, said the Nazgul, who then stabbed Thanduil with a small dagger. He then dropped both Thanduil and the dagger, which shattered a few seconds later.

“NO”, yelled Aralokë. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Then, the setting changed one final time…

[Yodaman]

CHAPTER III
THE VISIONARY

Aralokë woke up and found himself on a bed. He looked around and saw several elves tending herbs and treating the sick. He was in the healing houses. He jumped up but then an elvish healer walked up to him and forced him on the bed.

“You cannot get out of bed until your wounds are fully healed”, said the healer.
“Let me go!” yelled Aralokë. “This is a matter of dire importance!”

“Can’t the importance wait?” asked the healer. Aralokë found a cup of water right next to his bed and grabbed it. He threw the water in her face and he ran out of the room. And right out of the room was I.

“Oh thank the Valar”, exclaimed Aralokë. “Right before I passed out I…”

“You skipped training, played with your buddies, and watch some maidens taking baths”, I said to him. “I know”.

“No”, said Aralokë. “I…”

“What?” I said sarcastically. “Did you just deny your actions?”

“That’s not what I meant”, said Aralokë. “I have something of dire importance not just for you but for all of Mirkwood”.

“This is of dire importance”, I exclaimed. “You used to be such a good soldier- one of my bests. But ever since you’ve been having those visions you’re on the edge of darkness.”
“Speaking of visions”, said Aralokë. “I just had one. Lord Faramir of Gondor came to our aid and we helped him. Because of that, Mirkwood was invaded and the Nazgul took over.”

“Please”, I said to him. “I don’t have time for this”.

“But my last vision came true”, he said to me.

“Yes”, I said to him. “The one about Lorien being assaulted by Orcs. But what about the one about the Grey Wizard turning white? What about the one where the king of Gondor arose again? Have those come true?”

“Not yet”, said Aralokë. “But still…”

“My point is”, I interrupted to end the conversation. “You’re becoming worse and worse every day. You skip class and play instead of work. You even watch maidens taking baths, which is so uncharacteristic of you…”

“It wasn’t my fault”, said Aralokë. “I slipped down a hill and….”

“Sure”, I said. “Aralokë, just not do anything like that again, okay?”

“Okay”, said Aralokë. “But what about my vision?”

“Oh”, I said. “I can’t guarantee that it would become true. And by law we must help anyone who asks our aide.” Aralokë then just gave me a great, evil stare that made my bones chill. “You better get back to the healers. I won’t accept you until the healers say you are fit for duty”.

“Okay”, said Aralokë. He then walked inside and I just walked away. That was one of the most painful conversations I’ve ever had, and I knew more were coming. Oh well. I just walked away to have something to eat. Then, right after I left, Hinilin, Aráto, and Duinrama ran into the healing houses and threw a quilt on to of Aralokë.

“Guess what?”, said Hinilin. “Laurelin made this for you”. The other elves made a bunch of “oooo” and “ahhh” noises, but Aralokë just ignored them.

“Guys”, said Aralokë. “I’m serious. I had a vision where we helped Lord Faramir of Gondor and because of that decision, all of Mirkwood burned to the ground. Anganca refused to accept this vision, so I’m worried that we’ll be doomed because of this. I have a plan to prevent this. Do you agree to help me?”

“Yes”, said Aráto. “But what do we do?”

“Okay”, said Aralokë. “This is what you must do…”

[Yodaman]

Does anyone want RPG and Games Workshop stats for Aratloke? I made some a while back.

[Elf Girl]

I don't want to be too harsh, but at the very least could you spell the canon characters' names right? Who is Thanduil? I know of a Thranduil.

[Yodaman]

I don't want to be too harsh, but at the very least could you spell the canon characters' names right? Who is Thanduil? I know of a Thranduil.

Jesus Christ. It's just a spelling error.

[Elf Girl]

A repeated spelling error. Not just a typo, but one that shows you don't care enough to get it right. That does not bode well.

[Yodaman]

CHAPTER IV
BIRTH OF ADVENTURE

Aralokë, Aráto, Hinilin, and Duinrama all went out onto the west road in the middle of the night when no one but the fell beasts of Mirkwood were awake. According to Aráto, Aralokë’s plan was that they would first steal some Haradrim armor from Aetier’s (and as you all know, Aetier loves to collect enemy armor). Second, they would go out on the west road and watch out for any travelers. Aralokë did this since the west road was the only way to travel from Gondor to Mirkwood, so Faramir would have to travel through here. They disguised as Haradrim so they can pretend to rob Faramir to drive him away from Mirkwood. They all knew this was a risky and dangerous plan, but it was one step that must be taken to save Mirkwood.

“Why don’t we go up this tree?” asked Hinilin. “We can watch the people from the top.”

“Yeah”, said Duinrama. “Sounds perfect to me”.

“Okay”, sighed Aralokë. “We go up the tree.” Then the foursome climbed up the tree and sat on the top. Every hour, a different elf would sit on the topmost branch to look out for Faramir and company. Finally, three hours later, it was Aráto’s turn.

“Why are we still here?” complained Aráto. “Face it, we’re never going to catch them. And it’s daylight in two hours.”

“We’re going to stay here until we find Faramir and drive him away from Mirkwood”, said a stubborn Aralokë.

“Yeah”, said Aráto. “But Anganca will know that we are gone once training starts. And he wasn’t too pleased with us last time, remember?”

“I don’t care about Anganca”, yelled Aralokë. “You are going to do your job until I say it’s done. Understood?”

“Yes”, said a saddened Aráto. He didn’t want to do this, and he absolutely hated it when I scolded him. But he knew Aralokë knew best. So he just looked out and waited to see if anything out of the normal would pop up. After a while, a loud, screeching scream was heard all over Mirkwood.

“What was that?” asked an asleep Duinrama.

“NAZGUL!” yelled Aralokë. “GET OUT OF SIGHT” Then the foursome hid and the bushes to see what was going on. A second later, they saw a Hobbit running across and two black riders were chasing the hobbit on strange winged beasts.

“I’ll get them”, said Hinilin. He then jumped out of the trees and onto one of the winged beasts.
“HINILIN, NO!” yelled Aralokë. But Hinilin ignored Aralokë and continued his quest. He then climbed to the top of the beast and drew his sword.

“Die, you creature!” yelled Hinilin. He then slashed it at the ringwraith but the Nazgul drew his sword and blocked his blows. Hinilin then tried to stab the wraith, but his blade shattered when it touched the wraith. Hinilin cried out in pain, but the wraith didn’t care. The wraith then stabbed Hinilin and fed him to his winged beast.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” yelled Aralokë. He couldn’t believe it. One of his best friends of all time was gone forever. He had to get revenge on the wraiths without getting anyone else killed, and there was only one way to do that

“Guys”, said Aralokë. “We must save the hobbit. He’s getting fatigued and will die soon. Then we leave for home. Understand?” The two elves shook their heads. “Okay, we’re going to jump down on one, two, three, NOW!” The threesome then jumped off the tree and sped for the hobbit. Aralokë and Duinrama drew their swords while Aráto raced to get the hobbit.

“It’s okay”, said Aráto. “I’m brining you to safety.” The Hobbit was speechless. Once Aráto had the hobbit, Aralokë knew what to do.

“GO NOW!” yelled Aralokë. The elves then ran as fast as they could toward the city, which was about a three minute run. The two beasts were in pursuit, grabbing trees and throwing them at the elves with their talons. After a few minutes of running, the wraiths gave up pursuit of the hobbit and left them alone. But then, out of nowhere, a blade came flying down from the sky and hit Aráto in his left arm.

“AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!” yelled Aráto.

“Duinrama”, said Aralokë. “Get Aráto to the healing houses. I need to talk to the hobbit”.

“Okay”, said Duinrama. Aralokë then walked up to the hobbit and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I know this might be a stressful time for you”, said Aralokë. “But can you just answer one question- why did the wraiths pursue you?” The hobbit then reached into his pocket and took out a ring.

“Because of this”, said the hobbit. Aralokë then knew that this was another matter of dire importance.

[Elf Girl]

Er... you don't think your diaglogue is a bit over-modern? 'Okay'? 'Guys'? 'Yeah'? Where's the finesse of Middle-Earth speech?

Also, you don't seem to know how to punctuate quotations. The commas go inside the quotation marks.

Note: When I have the time I'll read it thoroughly and give it a full critique. But this will probably not be for another week or so. Blegh, life has gotten busy.

[Yodaman]

I think you've critiqued enough.

[Elf Girl]

Goodness, you're sensitive. Do you not want to improve it? If it's just for your own gratification, how 'bout you keep it to yourself. In general, people posting to this forum want criticism. If you don't care about becoming a better writer and only want mindless praise of your work, I doubt this is the place for you.

I suggest you read the sticky thread at the top of this page.

[Yodaman]

1. It's too late to change it.
2. You're going way too overboard.

[Elf Girl]

Why is it to late to change it? Even if it's already sent to whoever it was intended for, you can at least edit the one put up on the Moot for us.

How am I going overboard? I just want to help you improve your writing, what's the matter with pointing out problems?

[Nurvingiel]

Don't be put off by a lot of comments, it does not for one moment mean that your story isn't good. It just means that tweaks here and there would make a good story great. You story has a lot of potential, but I agree with Elf Girl's comments. Her suggestions would make your story even better if you followed them. She was not being anal or mean or flaming at all, so no worries.

[Yodaman]

CHAPTER V
THE ROAD TO RUIN

Not to long after the threesome came back to the city after their encounter with the Ringwraiths, a counsel of elves was called. All though only Elves from Mirkwood and Lorien attended, it was a counsel of dire importance. The reason so was that it would decide the fate of the Hobbit (who’s name was Bungo Harfoot) and his supposed “ring of power”.

Before I get into what happened during the counsel, I’ll tell you what happened right before the counsel. In the middle of the night, I heard screams coming from the healing houses.

“Help!” yelled the voice. “There’s a poisoned blade in my friend’s arm! HELP!” I then jumped right out of bed and ran down there. Right when I got there I saw Duinrama dressed up as a Haradrim holding Aráto, who was also dressed up as a Haradrim.

“Why in the name of Mandos are you dressed up like Haradrim?” I asked them.

“Now’s not the time”, exclaimed Duinrama.

“Okay”, I said. I then carried Aráto to the nearest bed and turned on some candles for light. “How did he get the blade in his body?”

“Nazgul”, said Duinrama.

“Nazgul?” I exclaimed. “What is going on here?” I then heard a loud scream from Aráto and I knew I had to keep my mouth closed for the moment. I then put on some gloves and took out the blade very slowly, trying not to hurt Aráto. Even though I was as gentle as I could be, he cried like a baby. I then lifted up the blade to the light and saw the blood that covered the blade. The blood was red with a tint of very dark black.

“He’s been poisoned all right”, I said. “How long ago was he poisoned?”

“A mere two minutes, sir”, said Duinrama.

“Normal poison wouldn’t travel that fast”, I said. “But Nazgul poison sure will”. I then lifted up his bloodied left arm. It was very limp. I then lifted up his right arm. It was extremely strong.

“I need to remove his left arm”, I said. “So the poison won’t spread throughout his body”. Then, Aráto gave me a look of pure terror. I have never seen a face so terrorized and I don’t think I ever will again. This was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I knew I had to do it. I then drew out a sword and was about to remove the arm when Aralokë ran in and held Aráto’s right hand.

“It’s going to be okay”, said Aralokë. “If you can just withstand this pain for one minute, you will be able to see the spring again. Do you remember how you used to love the spring?”

“Yes”, said Aráto. “And I still do”.

“Stand back”, I said. I then lifted up the blade and began to remove the arm. As I gently moved the blade down to get rid of it, Aráto was screaming bloody murder while Aralokë and Duinrama stood by his side and cried to see their friend in pain. After a mere minute, the arm was removed. I then put the arm into a special container (where we put all amputated limbs), and washed the stub that used to be Aráto’s left arm. I then cleaned the blade and wiped all the blood off the table.

“There’s nothing you can do now”, I said to them. “Except stand by his side”. Then I left the area. I didn’t even bother with how Aráto got poisoned or why they were dressed up as Haradrim. There was too much pain to think about those trivial things.

Now, back to the counsel. While I was amputating Aráto, Bungo supposedly woke up Thanduil to tell him about his ring.

“We need a counsel”, said Bungo. “All of Middle-Earth depends on it”.

“Yes”, said Thanduil. “I agree. I will send riders out to Lorien, our sister land. There will be a counsel in two days. No more, no less”.

“Thank you, my lord!” exclaimed Bungo, who happily left the area.

“You are certainly most welcome”, said Thanduil. Then, two days later, a counsel was held. Three lords from Lorien and three lords from Mirkwood were present, along with the witnesses (Aráto, Aralokë, Duinrama, Bungo, and I) and Thanduil. We sat in a middle-sized courtyard, which was place behind some very beautiful trees that was about to bloom.

“Citizens of Lorien, Mirkwood, and the Shire”, said Thanduil. “We have a crisis on our hands. This hobbit told me himself that he holds in his hand a fake One Ring. He was sent on a mission by the Blue Wizards to draw attention away from Sauron and his minions while the Ringbearer attempts to destroy the ring in the fires of Mount Doom. But the aura of this fake One Ring wore off after a while, and the Ringwraiths found him and captured him. He was sent to Saleme the Huntress, who supposedly is sitting right here in Mirkwood with a massive army of Haradrim, waiting to strike at the heart of us. But Bungo escaped with the ring, and was rescued by Aralokë and his friends. Bring forth the ring, young hobbit”. Bungo then walked up and put the ring in front of Thanduil and then sat down.

“Now”, said Thanduil. “I call upon Aralokë, who supposedly rescued this halfling”. Aralokë then walked up and stood in front of everyone. I knew he was nervous. He had to be. He did something wrong that led to the rescue of Bungo, and he had to tell the top officials of two cities. But Aralokë was an honest soul, and he would rarely lie.

“My lords”, said Aralokë. “One day, I was sparring with my friends when I tripped and fell off a hill. I hit my head on a rock and suddenly had a vision. In that vision, I saw Lord Faramir of Gondor. He needed help and we responded. Because of those actions, Mirkwood was burned to the ground and the Witchking murdered Thanduil. I then told my vision to Captain Anganca, who refused to believe that it was true. So my friends and I stole some sets of Haradrim armor and went out to the west road to drive off Faramir and his company. But instead of Faramir and his company, we found two Nazgul chasing Bungo on strange winged beasts. I lost one friend and one of my friends lost an arm is this chase. But we rescued the hobbit, who is alive and well today.”

“Thank you Aralokë”, said Thanduil. “You may now sit. We will now…”

“MY LORD!” yelled a voice from the distance. “LORIEN HAS BEEN ASSAULTED A SECOND TIME!” Then everyone gasped, but I stood up.

“I will depart with my regiment at once, Arash”, I said to him. Aralokë jumped up and stood in front of me.

“But what of the hobbit?” yelled Aralokë. “He was sent by the Blue Wizards to lead the Wraiths away from the ring bearer!”

“I don’t care”, I responded. “You will stay with me and leave the Hobbit behind. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir”, said Aralokë.

“Are you sure all the soldiers are ready?” asked Thanduil.

“Every since one of them” I said. “But there is one I’m afraid of”. I then gave an extremely dirty look to Aralokë. “Get ready for battle, except you, Aráto. You have been too wounded for battle. And Bungo, stay with Thanduil at all times. LET”S MOVE!” Everyone then left except Aralokë, who went to Bungo.

“Come on”, said Aralokë. “There must be some battle armor that could fit a hobbit”. Bungo’s face then lightened up and he followed Aralokë with the utmost glee.

[Elf Girl]

Yodaman, do you want me to critique it or not?

If not, why are you posting it?

Sorry if that sounds rude. I guess I'm just not used to criticism being refused. Or at least, I'm used to it, but only in the sense of getting flames, which are funny.

[Nurvingiel]

I will hesitantly offer one edit:

“NAZGUL?” I exclaimed. “WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?”

Typing in all caps is unnecessary. Since you said "I exclaimed", the reader knows you're surprised, and speaking loudly.

Elf Girl and I both are offering constructive criticism. This means we're giving you suggestions to help you improve your writing. I feel it's only fair, since I want people to do this to my own story.

Cheers, N.

[Yodaman]

Sorry. It just makes it actually seems like he's yelling. But I'll change it, not like it matters that much.

[Nurvingiel]

I'm not saying that not changing it will bring ruination to the universe, but I believe from a writing point of view, even the smallest edit (if it's appropriate) increases the professionalism and readability of the work. That's just how I feel about editing and writing.