Don't worry I aint forgot about The Darkness, it will continue, I'm just deciding how many more characters I can traumatise. I have a new found love for the Tolkien universe and so have begun to ponder… what would I do?
This is in the film universe as well as parts of the book
Hero of war – Rise against.
Flashback
"I think you are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid my eyes upon" Delund spoke as he lay next to me, you hardly ever seen an elf/men and a one with short hair at that.
"You are not the one for compliments my dear Delund" I said as I brushed my fringe to the side "And to think I have to leave you for my work" I smiled as I lay on my back, Delund shuffled and put his arm around my waist clutching me tightly.
"You hunt Orcs, Warg and all things evil, who am I to stop you?" Delund answered moving to sit up
"Stop me?" I slightly raised my voice "I am a Ranger of the North Adeacia Ríneka, I fear no man nor Uruk-hai, elf nor dwarf, I fear nothing, not even death" I said proudly, Delund just shook his head and chuckled.
"Now, I don't want the servant coming in here and finding you here and running to my father screaming all sorts…" Delund looked at the door hoping he'd locked it "Get up and dressed and I'll see you out" he shuffled to the end of the bed looking back at me.
"All the things you're worried about and it's your father that troubles you the most? Fair enough you're half royalty and all but you can love who you want to love" I crawled along the bed and hugged Delund from behind, holding him and feeling his heartbeat.
The room went quiet all of a sudden, short gusts of wind blew the light mesh curtain away from the window, elven architecture looks beautiful in the morning sunlight, all oranges, yellows and pale creams. Everything in the room made with such care and attention, expensive and high quality. Nothing was perfect, even for the lowliest of princes.
"I only do this out of love, Adeacia" Delund rose off of the bed walking towards his robes leaving me on the bed to slump in the warmth of the sheets. His body wasn't that of an elf, not in the slightest, all muscle and brawn, not as slender, he still possessed the agility of his half-brother Amroth and most definitely got his wits of his mother, Elaena.
"So I guess this will be goodbye then" I pushed myself off of the bed and my feet touched the cold stone, I walked over to my armour and weapons and smiled as I caught Delund staring at my form, and although he insisted he wasn't, his pale face was bright red. My armour was on and we walked together.
Through the courtyard and out into the main entrance of his castle-like home, hearing the guards mumble was the least of my problems, I was being walked to the door by my lover and he wasn't even trying to keep me by his side. He would never ask me to leave for no reason. This must be serious. We stood for a while, I don't know how long it was, staring at the beauty of the village, and I looked at him as he was captivated by the slowly rising sun. I stood on my toes and leant in for a kiss, what I got was not what I expected, a second of us touching he placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed me down.
"Not…" Delund annoyance was interrupted by a little voice that spoke behind us.
"Brother, why did you kiss her?" It was Delund's little half-sister Enelya, I turned around to see a small elven child confused and shocked…
I guess he was right, I shouldn't have…
It was a fort like any other, high stone walls, large doors and plenty of men guarding it. This fort has people, families in it, we are on the border of Lórien and far out of the reaches of most realms, although the occasional group of elven archers will come and help us fend off the Orcs hailing from deep in Mirkwood. Its name translates as 'Lost Stone', though it is near Mirkwood we never see any Silvian Elves and it is even rarer to see a ranger in these parts, let alone two.
Ańatoly Sorrows is his name, a Ranger of pure skill, murderer of thousands of Orcs and not a scratch on him. He's bearded like most of the other nomads of his kind, doesn't speak much. I usually sit on the walls looking into the fort watching the world on the inside go by, only to be called when battle commences, this Ranger, this fighter, nearly always sitting by himself avoided by all of the troops. Just because he's been successful in battle doesn't mean he should be treated differently. We seem to be alike in combat, it's just us and the enemy no one else, alone.
Then the horn sounded, everyone perked up like dogs picking up a fresh trail, a few moments of silence and people running for their houses, the heavy breathing of the archers standing up on the wall walk with me, each looking in different directions and trying to figure out where about the sound came from, most definitely from across the river and in the depths of Mirkwood.
"Adeacia!" Sorrows shouted up to me, I turned and jumped down the stairs running to meet him, he looked worried and he never looks worried.
"They never take this long to attack" he replied griping his longsword 'Cú Chulainn', if story serves correctly he's slain the masses with that single sword. I held my own sword resting it on my shoulder, maybe not in any way impressive compared to Sorrows but it has got wolves on it and a flawless sapphire. Looking at the grand gates expecting them to cave in at any moment, my heart skipped as the adrenaline started to flow, it had been so long since I had done battle with Orcs and hopefully not the last.
"Maybe they're taking their time, they aren't the brightest?" I spoke shifting on my feet looking at Sorrows then back at the gate. Nothing was really occurring and then a body fell from the wall, staring at the body there was an arrow sticking out of his chest obviously Uruk in nature, the way that the fletching was all butchered and black. Then several Orcs appeared on the wall, vaulting over the embrasures and merlons into the poor soldiers who stood helpless and in their way.
It wasn't too long before the shouts and cries were engulfing the entire fort, they were working their way in and killing the families first. Sorrows and I were trying our best to protect those who couldn't defend themselves, slashing and swinging into the Orcs, keeping them at a distance and saving ourselves from their savagery.
"We need somewhere to defend!" Sorrows shouted as he kicked away an Orc which was stumbling towards him, he swung Cú Chulainn into the side of the Orc, the blade lodging halfway through the beast's waist, he pulled it back and black blood spewed all over.
And it wasn't too long until I was in combat either, a massive Uruk swung at me with a long blade what wasn't yet a sword, some strange Orc weapon, a sword-thing with extra blades seemingly just stuck onto it. Clashing the weapons together over our heads I was close to it. There is a strange intimacy you feel when fighting an enemy, something that should be wrong, but in the moment, that feeling of being matched. Its eyes nearly blackened with evil, fixed on the destruction of an enemy. No small glimmer of hope nor love, only war. Its face dark and showing no remorse, its twisted angry expression exposing its crooked smirk. The only love was that for war, fighting, pain, aggression. Toying with the weak minds who dared to oppose them. Its teeth gnarled and gnashing, jutted out like its foul breath, damp and death. A full face of ugly, scars of old, war paint drying out and crumbling away, orange, such a warm colour for an unkind creature. Growling and snarling like a rabid dog but swinging its sword tactically, its armour only covering its front a dark silver, dirty with blood and mud, sharp and hard to penetrate. This large Uruk was like any other but it had some more intuition and common sense to block and watch its sides. Locked in combat our swords clashing, its face scrunching in effort to keep up its defence. We judge each other as our swords hit again. No doubt it is analysing me too, calling me things I am not. There is no greater show of choreography in the world than fighting, moves so fluid – must be fluid – so that your life depends upon it. Its large hands griping the sword probably or more hopefully getting weaker and weaker. Uruk's are not like this, they are brutal and unrelenting, not structured, like this one. Huge feet moving on the stone floor slowly as we move around each other.
A fast swing and a block too late, my sword stuck in the neck of the Uruk, the added momentum of my swing made sure it was decapitated, its head came off, and its body and fell to the floor before its head hit the ground. My blade and I were half bathed in Orc blood all black and sticky. And there still was more.
"Get them to the horses!" Sorrows shouted to the guards who were still trying to the outsides of the fort. He was right there was no use, they were inside. Then something we didn't want to hear.
"Wargs!" An archer shouted, he was immediately shanked in the back by and Orc who had climbed over the wall only moments ago.
I look over to my left to see Sorrows helping a small child onto a horse as the gate smashed into splinters and a large pack of Wargs and their riders ran through them. One of them went straight for Sorrows, but the Ranger kept his eyes on the child, calming him as he steadied the horse. No fear registering on him at all. Dashing forward I slash my blade on the hind leg of the beast, it howled in pain as it bucked its rider off. The Orcs where fighting all over the garrison and the courtyard only seemed to contain the Wargs and their riders.
I gestured for Sorrows to go, that small child couldn't control a steed by himself. A nod of acknowledgement, a recognisable action of parting warriors. This fort would fall either way, our soldiers were falling faster than before, and the Wargs were leaping over the walls and entering through the gate consuming any of the people on the walkway, men and Orc alike.
It wasn't too long until I was by myself in the middle of the courtyard, I can fight Wargs and Uruk singly, but not an entire pack. My armor was serving me well, deflecting the arrows shot by the Orc archers who were now in place of our own. Screaming began, and to think most of the people had fled or had died I was wrong, I tried to see past the Warg which was growling in front of me. A quick glimpse showed me something awful, it was a woman with a baby. It's astounding to think that in such a place people still want families I thought. This Warg wouldn't move no matter how much I stabbed at it. The screaming didn't stop and the child began to cry, I stepped back into the middle of the courtyard ready to rush the Warg but the crying had brought the attention of the other Orcs in the fort.
It seemed that I was maybe the last soldier of Lost Stone standing.
I found myself now surrounded by snarling Wargs and in the sights of all the archers. I held my breath. Then exhaled slowly Orcs have no honor, why are they not attacking, do they wish to see me try and save that poor woman and child? Examining my options I found myself thinking something idiotic. Taking a quick sprint, my foot connected with the Wargs head, running up it and kicking its rider off, I dismounted as best I could as it turned snacked at me, I hit the ground hard on my left shoulder, I managed to ignore the pain of my spaulder digging into my shoulder and rolling myself over to pierce the underbelly of the Warg. Please don't fall on me. I hefted the dead animal to my right and pulled my sword out of it, regaining my stance and quickly drawing breath, my attention went immediately to the mother and baby; she was lying face down on the flagstones, half beaten to death, the Uruk responsible was chuckling and cradling the screaming baby while he dragged the end of his blade up the woman's spine and rested the edge in the middle of her back.
The blade was surely piercing her skin, she was reaching up for her child crying quietly. I stood, breathing as calmly as I could. This is one of the ways Orcs torture, they know they can exploit this weakness of something they nothing about, they know not of kinship, of friendship, of compassion. The whole courtyard seemed to lull at this moment.
"Globlob" The Orc snarled at me, it pushed the harder down on the sword and the woman cried out, splaying even further out onto the ground.
"You are the foolish one Orc. Now let them go" I spoke, commanding as my tone was, I knew it's useless to try and reason with an Orc. I held my sword in both hands and stepped forward slowly and stopped once again "I will not tell you again, Orc" I hardened my tone, why am I doing this? I am prolonging her suffering. It started to rain, the clouds were grey and it blocked out the natural light that cast upon the fort west of Anduin. The rain wouldn't make any much difference, only make it a bit more slippery than usual. The eeriness that consumed the fort should have been a symbolic for mourning, but the orcs were just waiting for the last soldier to fall. A chance had to be took, there is no chance that will end with that woman living. I wanted to kill that Orc, so bad, but as approached he threw the child he had cradled in his arms to the Wargs, vicious creatures such as those have no mercy, the snarling and sounds of tearing flesh and snaps of small bone, the grinding of teeth of Wargs finishing their meal, the mother's screams echoed and then ceased as the Orc pushed down harshly on the blade he leant on.
My heart stopped, anger flowed throughout my body but I kept going, I was going to kill this Orc. The smirk on the Orcs face said it all and it was going to get his comeuppance for that act. The rush that filled me was indescribable, it fuelled me, propelling me forward so that I could stab my sword through its chest, and the orc tried to react but only gasped his last breath and fell backwards off of my swords. And it seemed that that sparked everything off again, the archers started firing so I dashed to an alcove. The hail of arrows stopped, I took it as a small moment to rest sliding down the wall and wiping my forehead of sweat, and today of all days I chose to wear my faulds, what am I saying I am not one to run from battles we have no chance of coming out victorious.
My eyes track to the dead body of the woman, face down and blood draining away with the countless others who had fallen this day, at least she was at some form of rest and with her child. Her brown dress was darkening with the rain dropping upon it, her brown hair dulling to black, such an awful thing death especially in such circumstances as an Orc attack. Why has it fallen quiet? I stand back up and walk round the corner the archers had gone and the Wargs had cleared the courtyard, standing back in the middle of the yard I see the fabric the baby was kept in torn to shreds, shutting my eyes and sighing, I reluctantly look around once again but this time a large Orc stood a few strides away from me.
"You're a big one" I muttered under my breath holding my sword up once again, my arms were in fact getting weaker, my back feeling the weight of my armor and chest getting heavier with lack of composure. This was an Uruk-hai, not a normal Uruk warrior, these horrifying things possess the ability to think like men tactically and have the brutality of an Orc. It looked as if he had been mauled by a Warg, the top left hand side of his head plated and bolted.
"Mau sharlob!" he pointed his mace at me "Lat buthagh-izish" he spat with such anger. I know not what means but I take it as an insult I thought as stood my ground. He on the other hand began to pace back and forth, not threatening, but comical, I laughed, it must have annoyed one of the Orc archers. The arrow flew and missed my face by centimeters making me stumble back I glanced at the Orc who had shot it, it was pulling another. "Puzg-glob!" the large Orc commanded, the archer seemed to stagger back and bow his head, frightened, it looked as though it got shun on by the other archers standing near it. Such a strange reaction for an Orc.
"Let us not delay the inevitable, beast" I spoke out readying myself once again, to my surprise I seen movement along the outside of the walls behind the Orcs they did not react and so I took it as a distraction created so I could be an easier target. This large pale Uruk-hai rushed forward and swung his mace, I could only dodge as best I could, slashing him across the stomach, he growled lurching forward hitting the mace across my lower legs, tripping me over onto the cold wet floor; I winced at the pain and grit my teeth, the spikes had torn into my left leg, it was going to be a struggle to stand, trying do so was no hard task, but with a seven-foot Uruk-hai looming over me it became a tussle. He kicked my sword away from me, without it the odds were stacked against me, no way could I pierce his thick hide without a blade.
"Snaag sharlob" He growled looking over me, I tried to kick him away as he grabbed my foot and began to drag me across the courtyard.
"You're the one who is weak Bolg!" A voice shouted, the Orc dropped my foot and looked around, so that is its name and to think I believe Sorrows would stay away from a fight. I sat up as Bolg was still trying to figure out where the Sorrows voice came from, then from the east the Ranger jumped over the wall lading on the back of Bolg, bringing his dagger down on his back, the Uruk yelled and threw Sorrows off his back. He tried taking the dagger out of his back but couldn't reach.
"Here let me get that for you!" Sorrows shouted as he clambered back up, countering Bolg's hit by punching him in the face and swinging around to pull the knife out of his back. Stunned the Uruk dropped his mace and resorted to grasping the Ranger's cloak and throwing him against the wall, Sorrows was not doubt dazed, I tried to stand up and by putting a little pressure on my leg I stood hunched over looking on at Sorrows getting beaten by that Uruk. But slashing his dagger across the face of Bolg allowed Sorrows to have a little bit of space to breathe and retreat to me "Let me help you" he spoke sheathing his dagger and putting his arm around my waist to help me up.
"Sorrows" Bolg spoke loudly and gruffly, this was a determined Uruk who didn't want defeat nor his enemy walking away from him, he'd picked his mace back up and a signal to his archers made sure we would be stuck in the courtyard. The hail of arrows littered around us and one of them struck Sorrows, he screwed his face up in pain, both of us falling to the ground. We heard the Uruk laugh.
"Get yourself away Ranger, I am only a burden" I lay on my side looking at the bearded man, all the energy I had had been used fighting, I had none to pull myself up properly, I doubt Sorrows had any either. My leg was bleeding badly and I had some hope the blades of the mace were not poisoned, but then again it is held by an Uruk who looks for a long agonising fight.
"I will return for you my friend" Sorrows said lightly as he got on his hands and knees and proceeded to stand up, Bolg was still pacing and waiting for Sorrows to make his next move snarling whilst doing so, the archers still had their bows drawn. In a bid to save me more time the Ranger ran up the wall and pulled himself into the other Orcs and he began fighting the archers that shot at us, he skewed a few before being shot again in the chest. That I know was the final straw for him, the archer shot again but the Ranger deflected the arrow back at the Orc and it stuck in the creatures head; that was something I'd only see an Elf do. Then he was gone, hopping over the wall and presumably onto a horse as I heard hooves fade out into the distance.
The Rain was dying out and the sun was setting, more Orcs would be upon the fort soon, although creatures of the dark need no reinforcements it seems they had considerable losses. Bodies scattered about the fort mostly armored soldiers but others families and friends desperately making a bid for freedom. I was the only one left in this fort, this is not how I want my final stand to be. My attention was turned back to Bolg who was slowly stepping towards me, unlike the other Uruk he seemed to walk properly and not scutter along lowly, hunched over and like something had made them devolve and degrade, not this Uruk.
"I will not die like this" I spoke under my breath willing myself to have the energy to stand, I managed to scramble my way to a wall, how pathetic of me, Bolg still approaching me slowly, like he'd never seen something like me before, confusion of how I had lasted so long. But no matter, he pulled a sadistic grin as he stood over me, chuckling at my weakness then hitting me with the hilt of his mace. I had lost consciousness. I only hope that Sorrows brings back an Elf detachment because I was not going to survive numerous Orcs all alone.
Please excuse my spelling and attempts to write black speech. Just don't kill me right. I tried. This is a shorty story, I've managed to get into the Tolkien universe and its great (Insert other amazing words here). I find the lack of stories with Bolg and/or Azog in them, rather disappointing, I do not wish to enter the darkened side of the internet to find NSFW ect just for a interesting story. Thanks to all you guys who have read this, please tell me if anything is wrong, I'd hate to make a stupendous mistake and well piss everyone off.
Many thanks to Perun Lock on this and helping me create his character (Sorrows) and checking lore and shiz. Cheers mate!