Prologue: Forging of the Ring
I amar prestar aen…
(The world is changed)
Han mathon ne nen…
(I feel it in the water)
Han mathon ne chae…
(I feel it in the Earth)
A han noston ned gwilith.
(I smell it in the air)
Much that once was is lost. For none now live who remember it…
It began with the forging of the great rings; three were given to the Sacaean, immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings.
In the dim candle light, three figures could be seen wearing three crested rings; the three elves, two men and one woman, held their respective rings. The woman looks at hers closely and feels a rush of power.
Seven were given to the Mobian Lords; great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls.
Seven different Dwarves could be seen a room crafted from the shards of the mountain; they all wore dark robes with silver lacing, all raising their rings to the heavens.
And nine, nine rings were gifted to the race of Men, who above all else, desired power.
Standing within the shadow of a grand hall were nine men their rings held close, each of them had a lustful look of greed on their face.
For within these rings was bound the strength and will to govern each race…but they were all of them deceived, for another ring was made.
In the land of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, the dark lord, the Horned King, forged in secret a master ring, to control all others.
Within a fiery chasm could be seem a figure in a red and brown robe stood on the edge of a small bridge separating him from a pit of lava he raised his hand and roared in triumph, a small golden band was bound around his skeletal finger.
And into this Ring, he poured his cruelty, his malice, and his will to dominate all life. "One Ring to rule them all."
The ring then began glow brightly as inscriptions, as clear as fire, cemented their place along the band, a foul whisper came from this light, a ring of pure evil.
One by one, the free lands of Middle-Earth fell to the power of the Ring.
Villages on the grassy hills began to burn, people were running in terror as monstrous creatures chased them, burning and crushing everything in their path.
But there were some who resisted; a last alliance of Men and Sacaeans marched against the armies of Mordor and on the slopes of Mount Doom they fought for the freedom of Middle-Earth.
An army of various Men and Sacaeans were marching towards an army of black creatures with yellow eyes.
Meanwhile, as the beasts charged down the slopes of the mountain the rear line of Sacaean archers fired volley after volley of their own arrows each shot finding its mark and killing its intended targets.
The dusty lands near the bursting volcano, an army of soldiers in silver and gold armor raised swords against the incoming onslaught of creatures that seemed to be made of pure darkness.
A Sacaean man on the front line who was a man with blond hair and beard stood firm holding a spear in his hands and yelled orders to the following Calvary.
"Tangado haid! Leithio i philinn!" (Hold positions! Fire arrows!) he yelled, the second line hoisted their bows between the shoulders of the first and fired, nailing the first wave of creatures with arrows.
As more of the black creatures came forward, all raised their swords, in a fluid motion that was devastating yet graceful; the front line thrust their swords upwards and decapitated the creatures.
As the battle continued, the Men and Sacaean appeared to have the upper hand, The king of Men known as King Hubert; raised his sword in triumph as Ansem took his own sword and continued to hack away at the enemy and then took his spear and stabbed a creature who was already on the ground right in the gut.
Victory was near…
The battlefield then went deathly quiet, a sScaean looked on in horror, and a man who was the king's son, Phillip, dropped his sword out of fear.
But the power of the Ring could not be undone…
The Horned King strode onto the battlefield, a broadsword shining in his right hand and the ring of power burning on his left.
He came to the first line and towered above them like a huge black spire; he then swung with his broadsword, and sent many Sacaean and Men alike flying , killing them on contact, he kept repeating this taking down wave after wave easily.
King Hubert charged forward with a battle cry, the Horned King easily dodged his strike and countered it by slamming the sword on his head: Hubert went flying and crashing onto the slope dead.
Phillip sprinted to his aid, when he saw his lifeless body he fell to his knees and took off his helmet, totally shocked in grief.
It was in this moment, when all hope had faded, that Phillip, son of the King, took up his father's sword.
As the Horned King approached to finish the job, Phillip grabbed the handle of the blade, the dark lord stepped on the mid-section, snapping it into pieces, Phillip took the handle with a quarter of the blade attached to it.
The Horned King then reached down to grab Phillip with the ring glowing like the sun on his hand; in a last desperate attempt; Phillip cried out and swung the blade, it cut directly through the dark lord's finger, taking the ring with it.
The dark king screamed in pain as the ring with his finger fell to the brimstone below, right within Phillip's gaze.
The dark lord screamed in pain as his body began to crumble and in a flash of light; he exploded, sending out a shock wave that cracked the earth.
His skeletal head fell to the ground, smoke rising out of the cracks.
The Horned King the enemy of the free-peoples of Middle-Earth, was defeated…
Phillip, breathing heavily from what just occurred set his sight on the defeated dark lord's severed finger which began to turn to dust and blow away in the wind, but the ring lay behind, he slowly picked up and held in his palm, the fiery inscriptions fading. He looked at the ring as if in a trance, admiring its beauty.
The ring passed to Phillip, who had this one chance to destroy evil forever; but the hearts of Men are easily corrupted, and the Ring of Power has a will of its own.
The scene changed dramatically to a misty wood where the survivors of the battle were heading home; Phillip lead the way, the ring proudly hanging around his neck with a silver chain.
Suddenly more black creatures appeared from the trees and tackled Phillip of his steed, more creatures appeared and drew rusty weapons and began to slaughter the soldiers.
In the midst of the madness; Phillip got up onto his knees and looked at the carnage around him, snapping the ring off of its chain he hurriedly placed it on his finger; he vanished in an instant.
Sneaking away from the battle, an invisible Phillip rushed away from the battle and dived into the river, as he swam the ring slid off his finger, making him visible again.
Desperately he tried to reach for it, but failed; two black creatures noticed him and fired three arrows into his back.
Phillip then floated down the river, three arrows stuck into his back and blood flowing from the wound.
It betrayed him to his death, and some things that should not have been forgotten were lost.
History became legend, legend became myth, and for two and a half thousand years, the Ring passed out of all knowledge. Until, when chance came, it ensnared a new bearer.
The ring now lay at the bottom of the river, blanketed in sediment; suddenly a hand reached down and grabbed it, snatching it out of the icy river.
"My precioussssssss…" a creature whispered as the ring was held between its hands.
The Ring came to the creature, Carnage, who took it deep into the tunnels of the Misty Mountains. And there it consumed him.
"It came to me, my own, my love, my own, my prrrrreciousssss! Carnage coughed. The sleek creature could be seen in the shadows on top of a stone hill in the middle of a cave conceived with a pool of water and a small island in the center of that pool.
The Ring brought to Carnage unnatural long life. For five hundred years it poisoned his mind. And in the gloom of Carnage's cave it waited. Darkness crept back into the forest of the world. Rumor grew of a shadow in the east, whispers of a nameless fear, and the Ring of Power perceived its time had now come.
On top of the stone hill; the ring fell and clanked against the hard ground, falling into the darkness and out of view.
It abandoned Carnage; but something happened then the Ring did not intend. It was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable.
In the light of the cave's exit; the ring was lying on top of a dusty stone, but then a hand searched around the dirt and touched the band, then curiously picked it up.
"What's this?" the man asked himself, as it drew the ring to its face it could be seen it was a man of with black hair and beard with yellow bangs, a black cloak, and a dark fedora.
An Ordonian; Solomon Muto of the shire.
"A Ring!" he said in joy as he twirled it in his fingers. Suddenly a shriek came and went through the cave that made him jump in fright and run away, putting the ring in his pocket.
"Losssst! My precious is lost!" Carnage cried out.
For the time shall soon come, when Ordonia will shape the fortunes of all.