First

We faced the Balrog of Moria alongside Gandalf the Grey.

Part 1

2 nights ago I travelled into a world long forgotton by modern man, a land imbrued in sword and sorcery, inhabited by a dozen different races, where majestic castles stand etched into mountains and valleys surrounded by never ending grassy plains. I went back to Middle Earth…

Mounting my steed, I, Benethor of the Gondorian Guards has thus been assigned to trace the whereabouts of my lord, Boromir, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor. My investigation led me into the westen continent of Eregion, where word has it my lord had joined a fellowship in a quest to stop Sauron, a long banished evil from returning, his followers have already amassed in Mordor, preparing for a final strike that will eclipse all of Middle Earth.

I was intercepted while on my way there by one of Sauron’s dark knights, Wraiths as many would call them. These fiendish creatures, once proud horsemen ride who rode under the Gondorian flag were now reduced to bitter empty shells of their former-selves corrupted by the power that which is Sauron. I escaped death just barely thanks to bravery of a She-elf called Idria, who came to my aid, by vanquishing the Wraith with light magi.

It seems our chance encounter was more deliberate than a coincidence. Elfs have an uncanny ability to look into the immediate future. Idria required my assistance in protecting her envoy from possible Orc skirmishes in the area, I naturally obliged as a means to repay my debt to her. In return she would accompany me on my journey to search for my lord.

On this quest, I’m joined by Elegost, a ranger of the Dunedain, the same order which King Arragon hailed from. Hadhod, the dwarvern axe-bearer, one of the sons of the great Balin. Morwen, a Rohan orphan whose family were slain by the vicious Wargs and lastly Eaoden, A Rohan pikemen who fought alongside Emoer during the Crusades of Rohan.

Throughout this experience, my conscious is battered through darkness and light as I fight the voices bellowing within me to keep my sanity. Sarumon speaks to me from his tower in Isengard determined to engulf my senses with the teachings of Sauron while Gandalf constantly steers me in the right path towards the light. I’m lost. My motives seem to blur into the background as I pass through battle after battle slaying Orc, Uruk-hai, Wargs and Trolls with a vengence.

To cross over to Rohan, we took a detour into the mines of Moria, the once great city of the Dwarfs now left in utter ruins. The great Balin, lord of Dwarfs once ventured into these mines only to lose his life along with others while trying to purge the environs of goblins and trolls. The fellowship too were here, just only ahead of us by a few steps, we had to make haste, no harm must come to the ring bearer! The narrow and winding route took us almost to the centre of Middle Earth and along the way we came face to face with Moria’s guardian the Balrog. A fiery beast engulfed in hellfire brandishing a sword made of molten magma and a whip laced with searing brimstone.

We fought hard and long with Gandalf by our side, the beast was not to be taken lightly, a single blow nearly wiped out most of us, fortunately we had the white wizard, who saw through with us this ordeal. Gandalf paid the ultimate price, plunging into the abyss with the Balrog so as to slay the menace once and for all. Deeply saddened by what we thought was the passing of an old friend, we ventured on as Gandalf would have wanted us too. Boromir was so close I could feel his presence echoing behind the next pass.

Our journey mirrors closely the one followed by the fellowship. No sooner had I approached the grassy plains of Rohan did news of Boromir’s passing reach us. During a heated exchange between Uruk-hais, my lord was brought down by archers while protecting the ring bearer. Without an ensign, I was free to choose my path, the path to Gondor had been cut off by Sarumon’s 100, 000 strong army. Faced with eminent doom, I stayed on and evacuated Rohan’s surrounding villagers and proceeded with King Theoden’s plan: to barricade ourselves within the great walls of Helms Deep.

Backed against an impenetrable wall of stone, Helms Deep will be the final stand for all of Rohan. We either survive the onslaught or die trying. The air was tense; the battle drums of the Uruk-Hai could be heard in the distance. They will be here by nightfall.

Helms Deep was also the place my motley crew of warriors came face to face with the fellowship. Arragon was down by the stables nursing his wounds from a rather dreadful encounter with Wargs, Legolas stood unmoved by the watch tower looking out into the horizon while Gimli was in the keep, muttering about how the ales served in Rohan were stiff as rocks. The fellowship seemed determined to defend the place despite Rohan not being of their own.

A small battalion of Galadriel’s elven archers came just before sunset to join the ranks at the request of Legolas, prince of Mirkwood. But this didn’t cure the atmosphere that befell Helms Deep castle. Without Emoer’s Riders of Rohan, Helms Deep was sure to fall. We must do all we can even if the odds are stacked against us.

By Midnight, the Uruk-hai army had already assembled right outside Helms Deep, I scoured the terrain, there were at least 10,000 veteran trolls, 50, 000 Uruk-hai berserkers and the remaining consisted of footmen and archers all armed with stolen weaponry from our very own lands. Sarumon will pay for this. I clinched my 3rd Age Gondorian Long Sword tightly, did a silent prayer as my allies readied themselves for the first wave of attacks. Now is time to prove our worth, now is the time we show these savages that Middle Earth will not be overrun so easily!!!

(to be continued)