Chapter II
Under the mists and smog of the western shore flame leapt, and smoke rose. The clang of iron hammers on iron chimneys could be heard echoing through the mountains and valleys. Screams pierced the thick air accompanied by the dull thud of marching Orcs, they were on their way to the Elven ship yards, long since over run with fire and metal and all things dark that roamed the shadow lands. A deep horn rang out and rattling chains lowered ramps from huge metal sea beasts. The Orcs marched in, accompanied by armies of Goblins and Ogre, each ship carried at least two Trolls, it was an army born upon the sea. These ships used not the air and waves but coals and steam, huge metal structures that cut through the sea rather than riding it.
Sauron stood on the watchtower looking out over his ships, a long time had passed since Elves looked out building their ships with wood and rope. As the first two set sail they turned to face him, the skeletons of the two great wizards, Gandalf and Saruman. The fight had been long fought between the three, on the top of the indestructible tower of Orthanc. The last of the Uruk Hai had just been given to Sauron as a gift from Saruman; these Uruk Hai had since become elite commanders of his army, the leaders of his conquest against the rest of the planet. This plan had not yet entered his mind though on the fateful night when all hope really was lost, the now complete Sauron paid a visit to Saruman, as his Orc guard feasted on Grima he and Sauron stood atop the tower looking out over Isengard as the glimmering white of Shadowfax and Gandalf he White rode through the empty lands surrounding the tower. Gandalf had been allowed to pass freely to the top of the tower where he had been quickly over powered by the might of the ring, his body being tossed over the side and down into the mines of Isengard. Of course Sauron didn't approve of the idea that Saruman should rule the lands of men. So he smote Saruman down into the depths of the mines. Sauron saw them as too great a trophy to lose and so permitted the eating of their flesh as long as the bones were unspoilt. And so the bones of the two great wizards rest on the, tasting the salty sea.
The coastal wall of the Westernlands stretched from the Elven territories to the very southern regions of men. The wall its self was vastly different to anything in Middle-Earth. It was thick and layered, the wall its self was comprised of three walls; the outer coastal wall was thick and hard, undecorated and barely eroded. The "Immortal Wall" was the name given to it by men, as it did not age with time. The second layer was created before either of the others, it stood higher than the others and the wall was broken by windows of light, The guards of men patrolled the windows. The third wall was the most impressive, not by stature but by the ornate decoration. Three gates broke the walls, one at the north that led into the Elven kingdom, one in the centre that marked the borders of Men and Elf and one at the south to lead to the capital city, home of His Majesty King Aragorn son of Arathorn of Numenor.
This wall of course cannot contain the many rivers and it was these that Frodo and Sam used to penetrate the walls, creeping through the shadows, clear as day in their eyes but in the eyes of Men they were as good as invisible. And so they journeyed deeper into the country.
The cloud of dark steam rose on the horizon as Alpholio, youngest son of Aragorn looked out from his watchtower on the great wall. He had been the only Royal son to join the wall guard, the others had become riders or infantry commanders, anything that held authority, but coastal guards were hardly considered important. Alpholio saw the dark cloud rising, confused at the sight he ran to the top of the tower that held the Horn of Boromir, the horn had been given the name from the king himself, indeed many of his children were named after members of the fellowship but when it came to the horn he thought of no better name than Boromir. The Horn bellowed through the air and was met by a chorus of replies, those that had also seen the cloud.
Aragorn awoke in his chamber, the sweet morning breeze blowing his grey hair from his face. The bang of his door being slung open brought the relaxing morning to an abrupt end and his heir Indiana rushed to his bedside.
"A dark cloud," he panted, gasping for breath, "approaches from the east Father, it is moving fast."
"From the east?" Aragorn said a frown overcoming his refreshed face.
"Yes Sire."
Aragorn stood sharply, "I have prayed this day would never come, but it appears Sauron has grown impatient. The lands of Middle-Earth are no longer enough to satisfy his thirst for power. I must go to the Elves. Your grandfather may yet be able to help us. Who raised the alarm?"
"My brother, Alpholio."
"I thought so. Come ready your horse we ride together to the palace of elves." With that he turned and began to dress, the fact Arwen had not been present had not crossed his mind, instead he was too busy getting ready for the long journey ahead. In the courtyard Aragorn and Indiana set out, surrounded by a host of royal guards dressed in flowing red gowns with gold helmets.
Under the mists and smog of the western shore flame leapt, and smoke rose. The clang of iron hammers on iron chimneys could be heard echoing through the mountains and valleys. Screams pierced the thick air accompanied by the dull thud of marching Orcs, they were on their way to the Elven ship yards, long since over run with fire and metal and all things dark that roamed the shadow lands. A deep horn rang out and rattling chains lowered ramps from huge metal sea beasts. The Orcs marched in, accompanied by armies of Goblins and Ogre, each ship carried at least two Trolls, it was an army born upon the sea. These ships used not the air and waves but coals and steam, huge metal structures that cut through the sea rather than riding it.
Sauron stood on the watchtower looking out over his ships, a long time had passed since Elves looked out building their ships with wood and rope. As the first two set sail they turned to face him, the skeletons of the two great wizards, Gandalf and Saruman. The fight had been long fought between the three, on the top of the indestructible tower of Orthanc. The last of the Uruk Hai had just been given to Sauron as a gift from Saruman; these Uruk Hai had since become elite commanders of his army, the leaders of his conquest against the rest of the planet. This plan had not yet entered his mind though on the fateful night when all hope really was lost, the now complete Sauron paid a visit to Saruman, as his Orc guard feasted on Grima he and Sauron stood atop the tower looking out over Isengard as the glimmering white of Shadowfax and Gandalf he White rode through the empty lands surrounding the tower. Gandalf had been allowed to pass freely to the top of the tower where he had been quickly over powered by the might of the ring, his body being tossed over the side and down into the mines of Isengard. Of course Sauron didn't approve of the idea that Saruman should rule the lands of men. So he smote Saruman down into the depths of the mines. Sauron saw them as too great a trophy to lose and so permitted the eating of their flesh as long as the bones were unspoilt. And so the bones of the two great wizards rest on the, tasting the salty sea.
The coastal wall of the Westernlands stretched from the Elven territories to the very southern regions of men. The wall its self was vastly different to anything in Middle-Earth. It was thick and layered, the wall its self was comprised of three walls; the outer coastal wall was thick and hard, undecorated and barely eroded. The "Immortal Wall" was the name given to it by men, as it did not age with time. The second layer was created before either of the others, it stood higher than the others and the wall was broken by windows of light, The guards of men patrolled the windows. The third wall was the most impressive, not by stature but by the ornate decoration. Three gates broke the walls, one at the north that led into the Elven kingdom, one in the centre that marked the borders of Men and Elf and one at the south to lead to the capital city, home of His Majesty King Aragorn son of Arathorn of Numenor.
This wall of course cannot contain the many rivers and it was these that Frodo and Sam used to penetrate the walls, creeping through the shadows, clear as day in their eyes but in the eyes of Men they were as good as invisible. And so they journeyed deeper into the country.
The cloud of dark steam rose on the horizon as Alpholio, youngest son of Aragorn looked out from his watchtower on the great wall. He had been the only Royal son to join the wall guard, the others had become riders or infantry commanders, anything that held authority, but coastal guards were hardly considered important. Alpholio saw the dark cloud rising, confused at the sight he ran to the top of the tower that held the Horn of Boromir, the horn had been given the name from the king himself, indeed many of his children were named after members of the fellowship but when it came to the horn he thought of no better name than Boromir. The Horn bellowed through the air and was met by a chorus of replies, those that had also seen the cloud.
Aragorn awoke in his chamber, the sweet morning breeze blowing his grey hair from his face. The bang of his door being slung open brought the relaxing morning to an abrupt end and his heir Indiana rushed to his bedside.
"A dark cloud," he panted, gasping for breath, "approaches from the east Father, it is moving fast."
"From the east?" Aragorn said a frown overcoming his refreshed face.
"Yes Sire."
Aragorn stood sharply, "I have prayed this day would never come, but it appears Sauron has grown impatient. The lands of Middle-Earth are no longer enough to satisfy his thirst for power. I must go to the Elves. Your grandfather may yet be able to help us. Who raised the alarm?"
"My brother, Alpholio."
"I thought so. Come ready your horse we ride together to the palace of elves." With that he turned and began to dress, the fact Arwen had not been present had not crossed his mind, instead he was too busy getting ready for the long journey ahead. In the courtyard Aragorn and Indiana set out, surrounded by a host of royal guards dressed in flowing red gowns with gold helmets.