The door started to shake and tremble, rocking back and forth. The orcs threw themselves at the rotten corpse of the gate. Rotten, weak and with brittle hinges, held up by just a few halberds and axes. It would not last.
The fellowship stood ready. Bows in hand, swords in hand. Ready. The hobbits were terrified. Before they had been hunted by wraiths, but this was different. This was all out combat. They didn't quite know what to do. What if they couldn't deal with this? Would they freeze?
Gandalf stood ready, eagerly awaiting the orcs. He stood by the hobbits, their Istari, their guardian angel. He would protect Frodo and his friends, and would give his life if that was asked.
Gimli clutched his axes, standing atop his cousins' sarcophagus. Snarling and stamping and snorting, like and enraged, adrenaline fuelled bull. Ready to gut anything that moved! He was ready to avenge his fallen brothers, and was ready to let the orcs' very ancestors feel the crush of his axe!
Boromir, gutsy, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feat, like a heavyweight boxer. Ready to beat it out of the opposition once all hell broke loose. He swung his sword around in a few practice sweeps, feeling the balance point. He was loose and without stress, a veteran of two dozen battles. Only his shield arm was tense, taught and strong - unmovable.
Aragorn and Legolas were ready. Almost stock still. Bows in hand, arrows primed, ready to snipe the first enemy that came. Aragorn, tall, rugged, indomitable. Legolas, no doubts, not a single one playing across his elven mind. Perfect posture, dignified, primed and ready like a tort spring.
But impressive as they all were, no one could help but gaze at the Master Chief, and gaze in complete wonder.
He held his massive crossbow at the hip. Steel bolt primed, would send an orc flying. They guessed he would swap to auto firing after the first shot. Seven foot tall, 1000 pounds of metal, muscle, bone and indomitable fighting spirit. Their greatest weapon, their mightiest member, he stood at the head of them all. Stood absolutely still, how could he be so still? Like a statue...no, statues would have a hard time matching his impossible stillness!
He was their lynchpin, their sentinel, and everyone was ready to see what the Spartan could really do!
The orcs were pushing hard, and with a sigh and a splinter, the first of the rotten planks of wood began to fall away. The little hobbits looked on in apprehension as the doors began to disintegrate. Holes began to appear, the hyperactive savages behind hacking away at it with cruel blades and heavy spears. They started to open these holes up, as if hoping to crawl through.
"Not yet Spartan, not yet!" Chief thought to himself. He was holding fire, keeping disciplined, waiting until he was absolutely sure that he could kill one of them successfully. Legolas however, was working off of a completely different combat philosophy. Whilst the stalwart Chief saw only an obstruction, the idealistic prince saw only opportunity.
Drawing from a millennia of experience, Legolas planted an arrow under one of the goblins' arms, straight through the weakest point on its armour. The creature squealed in pain as he received the mortal wound, and fell back as the arrow punctured its diseased heart. Aragorn then tried a shot. It struck true, but wasn't a killing blow. His was only a hunting bow after all, lightweight, and lacked the power of a dedicated weapon. An orc screamed in pain and terror all the same.
Just as Legolas aimed his second, the impatient orcs gave another massive shunt, and finally ripped the old door down. "NOW!" Chief screamed in his mind, and to the astonishment of everyone, a statue turned into a falcon, and launched himself at their adversaries. The Master Chief was on them.
He fired his first bolt, hitting a goblin centre in the head. The weighty bolt kept going, impaling another two behind before it was still. The two very surprised orcs fell, clawing at the bolt they couldn't get out. Chief strafed forwards, moving to a shoulder point aim and flipping the crossbow around, pummelled them with a volley of semi-automatic fire. Three orcs fell. Another was frozen in shock, stunned at the speed of his companions' deaths, moments before getting another well placed bolt through its abdomen.
Getting over the initial shock of the Spartan's sudden charge, Legolas and Aragorn fired again. Aragorn bringing down the orc he had hit previously, Legolas landing one right between the eyes. Chief didn't miss this. A risky, but impressive shot! Holstering the crossbow, Chief turned to his claymore, drawn quick as a flash. Kneeling dexterously, sweeping low, he took out his first two orcs, slamming one corpse against the brick walled corridor of the doorway. Spinning left, letting two orcs pass him by, he brought the claymore upwards, upper-cutting a first. Exploiting the momentum of the strike, brought the sword all the way round, and upper-cutted a second. Ducking under a spear, kneeling and bringing his blade down in another low arc, cut another four orcs down. And finishing with a savage kick, he sent another flying into two behind, laying them out completely.
He had let two pass him by, and the chattering animals tore forwards. A pathetic gesture, three more arrows claimed their lives, launched by the two matchless rangers indomitably standing their ground. Just as Chief knew they would. The merits of teamwork! The two archers had his back. Chief continued on like this. No orc could touch him, and not another passed him by. He had pushed them back, single handily, to the edge of the doorway. Cutting them down with every rise and fall of his colossal sword. With well timed, perfect strikes, he was efficient, never giving in to wild abandon.
The fellowship were completely awestruck, not even they had expected the Spartan to be capable of this much. He was fighting the orcs of Moria single handed! Gimli meanwhile was outraged. He wanted to avenge the deaths of his brothers, the death of Balin! At this rate... "Don't you dare Spartan. Don't you dare!" He growled under his breath, his composure weakening by the second.
Chief's mind was calm, cool, no anger, no fear. His eye darting quickly between his motion tracker and the real world ahead. He took a double take on his echo-locative aid. He was gazing at a sea of red, a swarm of contacts. Not since the flood had he seen something like this. Good thing it was only orcs! Was this all he had to content with? Some stunted little critters with heavy, poorly designed weaponry? He was almost starting to get overconfident! Then a wide eyed Cortana called out in warning.
"Chief, look above you. WATCH OUT!" Chief did, and couldn't help but pause a little when he saw it. There was a giant shadow looming over him. He instantly remembered the hunters, ten foot tall combat monsters. Something similar, with white and glistening eyes were glowering at him. With a roar and a belch, a massive piece of rock came flying towards him. A massive club! With walls to his left and right, he could only move backwards. Chief couldn't get out of the way.
The wrecking ball came down, and Chief was thrown high into the air by the massive shunt, the sheer power of the attack. Landing on his back, he slid for about three feet, and then hit Balin's tomb behind him. That's how far he'd been thrown back! "So that's what a troll looks like round here? I told you there are always surprises Chief!" His AI told him once more.
Low pitched warnings went off all around his armour. His shield had gone down, and sparks of golden energy flew out from his armour. "A Cave troll, move back!" Shouted Gandalf, "MOVE BACK!" The entrance unobstructed, and their passage finally cleared, the orcs surged forwards. Irresistibly they charged, the moral boost of their troll's appearance tenfold more than the shock of the comrades' deaths. Courage buoyed by the arrival of their secret weapon, the orcs launched themselves at the ranks of the fellowship.
Legolas and Aragorn retreated, followed by Boromir, who cut down an orc for every stride he fell back. Now the real test of the battle was on them. "Not bad laddie!" the son of Gloin complimented to the Chief, "Now it's the time of the dwarfs!" He said, roaring in approval.
Even though Chief had rose to his feet as soon as soon as he had stopped sliding, and the tomb behind only rose three feet up, Gimli vaulted clean over his helmet. Using muscle and power alone. Blood drunk, he rushed head long into the horde, bowling half a dozen of them over with an incredible rugby tackle. "I've got plenty for the lot of yer!" He screamed as he mowed down the first stunted excuse of an orc that came at him.
"He's gonna get himself killed Chief, you're gonna have to back him up!" Cortana yelled. Chief knew she was right. "Least I didn't drop my sword!" he thought to himself, smiling a little. He followed the angry dwarf, and joined the sweeping melee.
Sensing the time was right, Gandalf screamed in defiance and charged, followed bravely by the hobbits, not wanting to let their friends down. Frodo ducked under an orc sword and instinctively stabbed out at the orc, Sting biting through the creature's breast plate with ease. Sam not an inch away from Frodo, swipes at its leg, and as the orc falls, they both stab again at the creature, just in case.
Another is overwhelmed by a combined effort from Merry and Pippin, too slow with its heavy, unwieldy spear. They'd picked up a few tricks from Boromir. They went back to back, and took out another three orcs, all through teamwork. Merry stabbing over his small friend's head, Pippin cutting low, lashing out at anything that came too close.
The men were making short work of the creatures, fighting hard. Aragorn yells out and decapitates his opponent, black bloods squirting and oozing from its body. Boromir fights at least four at once, pushing with the shield, picking perfect stabs and swipes with which to cut his enemies down.
But none could quite match the Chief. He was just as skilful, but with the speed, strength and dexterity of his enhanced body, he was above and beyond them all. He cut apart enemies with every perfect swipe. Orc iron was no match for elven composite blade and Mjolnir power. Chief swore that their metallurgy was superior to any human smith could ever match. A Spartan could crush titanium pillars. The blade was holding up! Yet for the devastation he wreaked, his head was on a swivel. Ever watchful of the others, keeping his mind fixed on every single one of his comrades.
Gimli was whirling his axes in a dwarven fury. "Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!" He had gone completely berserk. Orcs fell by the second, no answers to the ferocious, vengeful dwarf. Nothing but combat on his mind, every ounce of his fibre, inspired by the cold fury of the Chief. Chief himself was amazed, he was almost being out competed by the madman!
A blur of swiftest green passes him by. Legolas had hopped up onto a broken pillar. Sniping and kicking down any orc down that tried to get at him, covering John and the hobbits beyond. Chief kicks an orc behind him, heavy boot denting the helmet, compressing the skull, the orc falling down dead. He had the sentinel's back!
Sam had somehow found himself at the head of the fellowship. Too busy hacking at orcs with his sword, and beating them up with his frying pan! He heard a fierce roar, and gazed up in absolute horror at the massive troll leering over him. Club raised.
"SAM!" Chief yelled out. Spinning round, he grabbed a steel bolt from its quiver, and threw it like a javelin.
Legolas had also noticed, and took a shot at the troll. Shaken by the sudden attacks, the troll swung clumsily down at the small hobbit, missing him completely. Sam runs forwards, crawling under the trolls tree-like legs in escape. The creature dumbly stared down at the hobbit as he crawled away.
"Over here yer clumsy beast!" Roared Gimli, and threw an axe hard at the troll. The enraged brute took the hit, and charged at the dwarf, bowling over orc after orc to get at its quarry. Coming to his senses, the red mist lifting, Gimli looked up in terror at the charging creature. He jumps back, barely avoiding the heavy club as it swung by from the right, compressing the stone where he had just been stood. Gimli lay, the troll towering over him, club raised above its head, about to land the final blow.
But quick as a flash. Chief jumped up towards the creature, almost soaring through the stale tomb air, followed up with his claymore as he glided past, and took many troll teeth and plenty of spit with him! The troll was thrown to the left by the attack, and taken completely off balance, missed the dwarf. Gimli knew what the Chief had done for him. But he couldn't rest on his laurels, he couldn't stop, he had to fight!
Orc followed in the beast's wake. He took his axe from the ground, and threw it at an orc that was leaping through the air at him. It connected. He ducked, and the enemy flew right over him, smacking into the pillar behind. He unholstered his heavy double sided axe, and filled his mind with the memory of his fallen cousin, and was ready to take on the orcs once more!
Aragorn and Boromir were standing back to back, bringing down anything that came towards them. They seemed unmovable, that was until the troll came hurtling towards them, still stumbling clumsily after the hit from Chief. Aragorn grabbed Boromir, and threw the Gondorian captain behind him, stopping him from being flattened by the heavy beast.
Isildur's heir stood his ground, fending off the orcs, guarding Boromir whilst he got back to his feet. "No Aragorn! Get away!" He screamed at him. Aragorn looked up, and had a split second before the troll completely lost its balance and crushed him. He leapt forwards, feeling the shock of the impact as it fell to the ground. Now, he was in real trouble. Inches from the dazed cave-dweller, with the orcs were baring on him.
Aragorn stabbed upwards, and the first orc fell, stabbed in the neck. But there were others. Legolas had seen him, and launched two quick arrows, each one a kill shot. But even he wasn't fast enough, there were still many. Too many. "Aragorn!" Boromir screamed, trying to cut his way through a swarm of orcs intercepting him. But it was futile, they just kept coming, there were too many enemies between them both. Aragorn was at their mercy, he was about to die, he knew that he couldn't win!
Then, to his absolute astonishment, two little hobbits came charging out from a nearby pillar. They stopped the orcs dead. Standing over the ranger in guard, they had saved him! The elf's efforts had whittled the group in question down to four. He fired again, hitting an unhelmeted one in the back of the head...dead before it hit the ground. Working together, Pip and Merry held the last three off long enough for Aragorn to stand, retrieve his sword and end the fight for them whilst the three orcs were distracted. Aragorn gazed at his two little saviours with thankful eyes. He would never forget this moment...
Chief was backing up Gandalf, deeply impressed by the old man's skill at arms. He had neither the strength of Boromir, nor fought with the finesse of Legolas, or the driving passion and savagery of Gimli. But he was a matchless warrior none the less. Every thrust and stab was perfect, every crush and pummel of his staff a killing blow. Not a single ounce of his energies were wasted. Energies that when finally utilized, hit home with the ferocity of some feral and savage hound. As goblin men fell around them, the Spartan, who had devoted his entire life and being to the perfection of martial discipline and self-control, felt wild and unbalanced in comparison.
At this moment, breaking his train of thought, a small but noticeable thump hit him in the back of his thigh. It felt like a person. Wary, he looked down, sword ready. But realised in shock that it was Frodo. "FRODO! Gandalf, get Frodo away from here, he won't last this!" Frodo was no gladiator, and his safety was John's primary objective. As he cleaved another half dozen apart, Gandalf struck another few down, and did as Chief had asked. Gandalf grabbed his arm, and began looking out for the other three.
"Pippin, Meriadoc!" He cried out upon seeing them, his booming voice rising above the clangs of iron against iron, "Help Frodo hide. Keep away from the troll! With me Aragorn! With me!" More came at them, and as the ranger and wizard fought them off, the three hobbits got to safety. Hiding behind a cluster of pillars, where none of the orcs seemed to be.
With no enemies around him, Chief spied the troll. It was going for Legolas, who had his back turned, and hadn't noticed. Too busy knifing some other foes! Was the troll settling a grudge perhaps? It had fallen on its club in the fall, crushing it, the bloated creature. Now a lithe and sweeping chain, its goblin slave chain, was clasped in its thick and wrinkled hands! "Legolas, behind you!" The elf span round, and with outstanding reflexes, dodged the chain, bending down low. The chain wrapped around the scarred and pitted pillar behind, digging into it like a grapple, and would not budge.
Legolas sheathed his knifes and drew his bow. He then did something quite remarkable. The chain bobbing unstably as the troll tried to wrench it free, Legolas vaulted onto the chain, and with balance that made even Chief's jaw drop, darted over onto the Trolls shoulders. He then proceeded to launch an arrow right at the creatures head, firing at point blank range. Then jumped off of the enraged creature before it could even touch him "How on earth did he do that?" Cortana called out in disbelief. Spartan acrobatics was one thing, but this warrior had just turned a tightrope into a weapon!
Distractions pushed from his mind, Chief was still alert. Not a single orc had passed through the entrance to the tomb of recent, and their numbers were dissolving away. The tide of the skirmish was turning, and he pressed home the advantage. He stuck his claymore into a dead orc, and drew his crossbow. His target was the troll. Pulling back the drawstring, he placed a steel bolt into the mechanism. Taking a strong firing stance, he aimed, and guessing where the creature's heart had to be, fired.
The bolt bit deep, and the troll screamed and fell. To Chief's amazement, the troll wheezed, pulled the missile out, and climbed back up. It was weakened now however, its right ventricle loosing blood. Chief primed again, a second shot would end it. The creature had turned, and was heading towards the outskirts of the tomb. It was heading straight for the hobbits! He needed to reach them first. Worse still, Chief's path was blocked completely.
Between him and his protective charge lay a group of about 50 orcs. Some were engaged, others were not. They were too scared to charge him, waiting for him to make his move. He would abandon his sword for this. Chief fired his bolt at the biggest one he could see, laying it out, killing it outright. Flipping the crossbow round and reloading, he started pumping some well-aimed shots into the ranks of goblins. Could he reach them in time? Was he about to fail his mission. He couldn't help but be reminded of his lost assault rife!
A cry of alarm from Frodo exploded across the tomb. The troll had found him! It reached out with his massive hand, pulling the helpless hobbit towards him. "No, Ahh! Aragorn!" He cried out in desperation, hoping someone would come to his rescue. "ARAGORN!"
"Stop the beast, bring it down!" Came the cry of Boromir, once again bogged down amongst the horde of orcs.
Chief knew he was too late, but to his relief, Aragorn suddenly came out of nowhere and charged at the enemy who dwarfed him. He was hefting a massive trident, more like a streetlamp than anything a man would lift, one of the corroded dwarven weapons scattered about the room. He stabbed the troll hard, punching just underneath its chest. The weapon bit deep, and the troll roared in sheer agony. But still the troll still wouldn't go down!
Chief took a pot shot, at the leg, but the troll stood firm. What was keeping it up? Merry and Pippin threw rocks. They were good shots, but it was a futile effort. The troll rallied itself, and swatted Aragorn away, with no less effort than a toddler with a rattle. The hapless ranger hit a stone pillar hard, hitting without a sound, and was motionless. Chief feared the worst.
Then to the Spartan's horror, he saw Frodo run out, trying to help Aragorn, but exposing himself completely to everything that wanted to kill him! The troll was right above him! "Frodo no! Get away from him!" Chief shouted out in a flash of panic. Frodo might as well have put a knife to his own throat! Redoubling his efforts he barged the remaining orcs out of the way, like an American footballer, picking up as much speed as he could. But it was like running though water. The troll pulled the spear out, it was about to strike.
"NO!" Chief and the two hobbits yelled in unison, but it was already too late. Chief froze, and as the spear came down, his heart sank lower than he thought it ever could...
"Ungh...uuh!" Frodo groaned, catching the attention of every member of the fellowship. Everyone stopped and froze in horror, watching as he slumped slowly to the ground. Even the orcs had stopped fighting. The callous creatures were grinning sadistically at their first victory! In the moment of pause that followed, the entire fellowship saw the calamity.
"FRODOOOO!" Sam yells out, louder than Chief thought a hobbit possibly could. And inspired everyone to fight with everything they had. Chief stared at the troll with pure hatred and revenge, and discarded his weapon. He had a score to settle now! As the last of the orcs were being calved apart, and Frodo lay motionless on the floor, Chief jumped between the two.
The troll recoiled a little, and licked the part of its mouth where flesh and teeth were missing. It let go of the spear, and made a fist. It had just started to move, when Chief punched the creature himself, almost ripping the ground below his own feet he punched so hard.
The troll knew for a moment what it had to feel like to get hit by a heavyweight boxer, and sprawled to the left. Chief drew his knife, and stabbed deep into the midriff of the troll. The troll roared, and tried to swat the Spartan aside. Chief, to the troll's amazement, stopped the arm dead, and wrapping his own arms around the tree trunk like appendage, twisted and broke its wrist.
With the orcs dead, everyone watched in veneration as Chief let go of the trolls arm, and hammer punched it, sending it sprawling a little to the left again. Chief pulled the knife out of its chest, and stabbed again. The troll sank to one knee, its many injuries and the sheer agony coming from them starting to take its toll. Chief pulled the knife out for a third time, and launching himself forwards, sank the knife into its left eye.
As the troll screamed, and clawed at the place which hurt, Chief took one of the grenades from his belt and pulled the pin. Time to end it! Holding the grenade, he started to count.
"One!" He bellowed, blood-drunk, punching the troll in the side of the face. The beast spat blood and viscera, Chief sure he could hear it whimpering. "Two!" He pulled the knife out of its socket and stuck it in the other one, blinding the troll. It screamed, all the louder now, and when it had opened its mouth all the way full..."Three!"
Chief shoved the grenade deep into the creature's throat, and jumped away to safety. He looked round, the fellowship was far enough away...BANG! Everyone jumped as the sound of the explosion tore through the small cave. The deafening tore through Moria, and reverberated around the hold for miles around within the reflective and claustrophobic rock. Once the dust had settled, the eight travellers stared in horror at the troll. Seeing where the head and most of the thorax had been. Stunned by the sheer violence of the creatures death. "Ruthless! Where is Frodo? Please, you have to find him!" Cortana pleaded.
Chief ran towards the last place he had seen the hobbit. "Where is he?" Chief demanded. He didn't have to give a name for everyone to understand who he meant. Aragorn and Sam were already at his side. Then they discovered him, a thin layer of dust covering his muddied clothes.
"Oh no!" Aragorn gasped as he crawled towards the fallen hobbit. Sam was ready to burst into tears. Chief just stood there, fist clenched, staring down at the ground. "Not again! Please, not again!" He silently prayed to himself.
Cortana, choked. She already knew. "I'm sorry Chief. You saw what happened. There is absolutely no way that-"
*Cough, cough, cough!* Frodo spluttered into life as Aragorn pulled him around, stunning absolutely everyone when he did. Chief looked bolt upright. Sam and the other hobbits ran towards him. Gimli and Boromir stood wide eyed, mouths agape. They couldn't believe what they were seeing!
"He's alive!" Sam sighed in relief, not quite aware of what him being alive was actually implying!
"...This isn't...that isn't...he can't be..." Cortana stuttered in complete disbelief.
"Don't worry, I'm alright. I'm not hurt" Frodo replied, if a little winded. "Not hurt?" Aragorn breathed in disbelief, "You should be dead! That spear, would ease have skewered a wild boar!"
But Gandalf was a little wiser than the rest of them, and he knew Bilbo Baggins far too well to think that he would have let Frodo leave without a few 'gifts'. "I think there is more to this miracle, than meets the eye. Am I right perhaps, Frodo Baggins?"
Frodo nodded, and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a beautiful silver chainmail plate. Gimli gasped, knowing immediately what it was "Mithril!" He gasped in absolute amazement. Cortana then remembered the sample they had taken from the mine.
"Chief, we have to get that ore back to the UNSC. We could be about to make the greatest metallurgical discovery since the development of Nano engineering!"
Chief knew she was right, thinking it over inside his pragmatic mind as he began to walk the tomb perimeter, collecting bolts as he went. An advantage of the missiles that bullets could never replicate! Such a thin mail shirt had stopped the blade AND absorbed the power of the attack. Metal that had been forged with THEIR understanding of the science. What would UNSC scientists be able to make of such a material?
Then, a high pitched, and very, very familiar shrieking began to float over his auto sensors. Breaking the silence of the empty room. Everyone else could hear it. His motion sensor began to fill, fill with red. There had to be hundreds this time. They had no chance of surviving a second round. Chief was standing next to Gandalf. "Sir. We keep the hobbits safe, no matter the cost. We're leaving Moria, right now!" Gandalf knew he was right. There was only death for them here.
"To the bridge of Khazad-dûm!" They followed him to the broken doorway, able to escape before more orcs showed up. Chief grabbed his claymore, and made after them. He would be what stood between the fellowship and the orcs of Moria on their mad dash for the bridge...