The next day we awoke on the deck of the newly made steamship that Shiroe's nation had made. Last night princess Raynesia's speech had gone off without a hitch, thousands of players gathering at the enrolment sites. DDD, the combat guild that Crusty ran, was inundated with requests for a spot in the 'event'.
In the middle of the night the majority of the players in Akihabara had set off with the combat guilds towards the outbreak of Goblins. The majority of our party had decided to adjourn for some sleep as the ship chugged away.
Standing up I stretched and broke down and sweat or grime from the night with my matter manipulation. Walking out soon after I was met with a din of activity that purveyed the entire ship. People were running back and forth whilst lower levelled players were quickly shipping items back and forth. The war was starting...
Tony Stark- I'm heading off to that bridge. I'm going to destroy it and defend it.
Aegon Targaryen- Any chance you could take me? I want to see these 'fish-people'...
Tony Stark- No problems Draco!
The chat paused as I reached the mid-ship, the deck thrumming with activity as the communication corps were assembling their members and items. PVP and raid players were also assembling at the aft of the ship alongside Crusty who was pointing down at a physical map. They were no doubt discussing tactics and positioning.
It was at the moment that the roaring of Tony's suit split the activity and he rocketed off with Aegon in hand. Many of the players were gawking at the display whilst some shouted out their glee at the display. Shaking my head I walked over towards Loki, who was currently looking out over the waves with a thoughtful glint in his eyes.
"So, off to war we go..." The Asgardian chuckled in a dulcet tone before he broke off his staring match with the ocean before us.
"Indeed. My brother and sister would be livid with me if they were to find that I went on a campaign by myself, without them." It was my turn to chuckle now as I watched the sun dapple off of the waves of water.
"We all need breaks from each other, especially when you're family." A small twitch in his face was the only indication that he'd acknowledged what I had said.
Both of us stood silent as the crashing of the waves, the smell of the sea breeze, and the metallic splashing of water against the hull of the ship. Our introspection and, in some ways, meditation was quickly interrupted however when shouts began booming across the ship.
Turning, Loki and I immediately found the princess and Crusty conversing cordially at the bow of the ship as it slowly angled towards the land. Jungle and dense foliage sprinkled the shoreline and all but smothered the deeper part of the landmass. Beyond the tropical rain forest that expanded before us there was the massive canyon that carved itself between many mountains, sparsely covered cliff faces dropping off into a dense green canopy below.
Crusty began shouting out orders in quick succession.
"We make anchor at the beach. All assembled cohorts and squads are to assemble as instructed. Communication Corps are to settle on that hill over there." He pointed off to a clear hill that poked out of the canopy, flattened in such a way that tents could be erected and a supply line could be established with ease.
"In half an hour we need to be off the ship so that the town defenders can make it in time for the event!" His shouts kicked the anthill spectacularly as a thousand players began disembarking, their eclectic but powerful equipment hoisted over shoulders and in backpacks.
Loki scanned the entire event with a quaint interest that shone in his posture. He was most definitely used to witnessing military efficiency and displays of war, this was at most a footnote in his centuries-long experience in warfare, combat, strategy and tactics. In contrast I was excited and just a little blow away by the sheer number of players gathering on the beach.
"He is a good leader. Not the best I have seen, but effective nonetheless." That was a massive compliment from Loki, seeing as how he viewed all of us as pitiful mortals who would die with the period of time it would take him to fully understand an aspect of Seidr.
"I have no experience with warfare, but I can tell he has their respect." Loki smirked before walking forwards, his Seidr wrapping him up in a warm glow before he became completely invisible. "I'll see you in the battlefield Drecarios."
Jester ran out after all the players soon after, her magic drawing the attention of numerous magic-casters that were wondering how she was doing it. Laughing at the chaos I simply stepped forwards, my fingers flexing as I considered the war we were about to join.
~~~
In the deep bowels of the mines a bilious stench clung to ever single stone, rock and mineral that lined the expansive network of cave systems. Minecarts squealed and screeched odiously as the cackles of their riders echoed through the under-mountain.
As these carts traversed the depths through confined tunnel networks and then through massive cavernous spaces war-drums blared loud. Skittering jitters roared throughout as, at the end of the minecart's journey a court was taking place.
Hundreds of massive goblinoid figures knelt below a throne of brass, copper, iron and gold. Carved and melted from rudimentary kilns and forges the seat of power gleamed in metallic hue, the shape not unlike an upside down sword that was bent into the shape of a throne.
Wargs, Dire wolves and many monstrous entities flanked the royal endowment as lava dripped in the background in a continuous stream of heat. This light gleamed off of the superbly armoured goblins that had knelt before the newly crowned monarch. Made of steel and mithril the armour was resplendent, if in a primordial and raw sense. Mismatching pieces of plate sat above roughly made chainmail. Pauldrons were decorated with the skulls of humans, beasts and monsters of all types and in some cases were freshly draped in viscera.
"Stttannnnndddaa" The monarch drawled in goblin-speech, his bulbous chin and nose adding a nasal quality to his inflection.
At once all of the kneeling hobgoblins stood, their eight-foot height brining their sight to the bottom of the newly crowned king's feet. Growls and murmurs broke out as the muscle-bound form of the king jiggled in his seat, his ugly yellow-black teeth gleaming with malice. Pitch black and purple eyes glowed ominously from a large skull that seemed to have his skin draped over it, as if it were but a sheet draped over the tough bone below. Mixed with a dark, poisonous, green colouration the king looked exactly as you would assume the pinnacle of the Goblin species would.
Metal ground tensely against the rough stonework that made up the court of the goblin king, gold coins and bars scraping against steel as errant coinage was stepped upon. In the sky behind the king a flying kite contraption soared overhead, the mechanik laughing in a wheeze as his fellow brothers joined him.
"WWWW-wwwaaaaar... Weeee goooo!!!!" The shout of the king resounded and reverberated around the entire cavern.
The hundred hobgoblins and the millions of regular goblins screeched their agreement as the wolves howled out in unison. The war drums increased in volume and power as the entire goblin realm hungered for the coming conflict and the shiny stuff they could get.
"TOOOO WAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!" The king stood and raised his sword into the air, his muscular stomach popping with the volume of his roar. He was now their king.
~~~
In the deep, under the 'under-mountain', an unsettling scratching noise could have been heard had anyone been present to listen. This noise shifted and slithered through the audio spectrum before settling at a keening screech at the lowest of decibels.
Stone shuddered under the vibrational intensity of the sound waves and sometimes buckled, collapsing entire sections of the connecting mineshafts. In one section that was withstanding the concentrated blast of energy, a purple energy ominously flicked on and off as shadow licked the edges of the light.
Ancient lanterns sea-sawed back and forth along with a rusty creak, the air whipping in and out. The wind was ebbing and flowing one after another, as if it was timed with the breathing of a creature or perhaps the beating of a heart. The War drums above rhythmically thudded once more and the wind increased in voracity, the lanterns slamming backwards and forwards as if someone were physically pushing and pulling them.
The sound became so imperceptible that one could only tell it was still being played by the thrumming vibrations that striated through the ground and then back up. Dust shifted uneasily into the air and was blasted away as the purple energy flared up in a magma-like glow. Shadow intertwined with the energy and amalgamated with it fully. In the midst of this mass of energy two blackholes of void opened, the vacancy of anything intermingling with the accretion disk that was the purple energy.
War drums resounded once more and the blackholes tightened in on themselves, the air beginning to shriek as it was pulled towards those two sources of nothingness.
*RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRR*
The under dark quivered in fear...
~~~
In a world of Rings, a grey-robed figure stood against a beast of shadow and flame, the demonic entity roaring out in anger. Mithrandir, Servant of the Secret Fire, Wielder of the Flame of Anor, The White Rider had gallantly interjected himself between the only hope for Middle Earth and the scourge of Khazad-dûm, his staff blasting down before him into the narrow bridge of hewn stone.
"BACK TO THE SHADOWS WITH YOU!"
Mithrandir's voice echoed with the power of the Ainur, granted to him by the Valar.
*RRRRRRRRRRRGRAGHHHHHHH*
The abomination roared and hissed at him, the entity's whip cracking out to the side as the fellowship watched on in horrified fascination. Shadow coiled like a living being around the flames, as if to choke it out. Mithrandir knew these flames would not be purged so easily however, these were the flames of Morgoth and would not be quenched by an aspect so adjacent to its master.
"YOU! SHALL! NOT! PASS!!!!!" A white explosion of energy suffused into the stone below the abomination, the nimbus of energy reflecting off the trickling of sweat that had accumulated upon the Wizard's face.
The Balrog stepped forwards in hatred before the stone cracked and shattered beneath it. Surprise, or what could be construed as such an emotion, flickered devilishly across its nigh-non-existent features before gravity and darkness closed around it. The shadow had fallen to the depths and his work had been accomplished.
A pleasant thought, if it weren't for the cracking of a whip and the yanking of force that pulled him to the ledge he had just created. Mithrandir hissed as the fire and shadow attempted to grasp upon his light, to snuff it out into the embers of the flame he so boasted wielding.
Holding onto the ledge he winced as his light shrugged off the influence, his mind straining against the intrusion. Hands, more used to wielding a staff, slipped upon the hardy stone until he was barely holding onto the precipice. It was then he realised what needed to happen...
"F-Fly you fools!" He shouted the words out as he let gravity sweep him backwards and down into the depths. His work was not yet done and he needed to slay the foe for the fall would not complete what needed to be done.
In but a second he heard the screams of Frodo and the other Hobbits before he dove down, grasping Glamdring; his sword, with an immense amount of strength that usually was not present within him. This felt right and his task in middle earth was almost complete...
Thirty seconds later shadow and flame became evident once more and the roars of his opponent slithered amongst the light of his soul. Gritting his teeth he pulled the sword back and slashed towards the fiery embodiment of this beast, the abomination recoiling in shock as he charged his magic into the blade and stabbed into its chest.
"ARGH!"
The shadowy wings slammed into him from behind and smashed him into the stone, shredding his robes even further as his skin was torn. Blood leaked from his forehead where sweat once had, his eyes gaining an ethereal glow that resembled the eternal flames of the Valar.
"DIE!"
His staff smacked into the horned crown of shadow that clung upon the flames of the Balrog, the white nimbus smashing into the darkness of the entity's soul before he slashed once more with Glamdring.
*RRRRRRRRGRAGHH*
A deep roar shuddered through nearby waterfalls as the seemingly unending cavern they had been falling through soon came to an end, the lake below quickly coming ever closer. In this moment Mithrandir decided to sacrifice everything... If Sauron gained a pawn in this Balrog all would be doomed and Middle Earth would slip into Morgoth's clutches.
Glamdring pointed outward from his chest, poised to puncture down into the heart of the Balrog. His magic wrapped around him and became him in these last few moments, the sword singing and ringing with the power of the Ainur and Valar. He straightened himself out and dove for the beast once more... The sword perforating deep into the abomination's soul and heart alike, the shadow being snuffed by the flames of Anor.
A scalding hiss soon followed as the water boiled in an instant, the Balrog screeching in pain and in its death-throws. He closed his eyes before the end, his soul singing with the music of everything...
He died upon impact.
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