Dagnir Goroth

[Envin]

The forces of Gondor had marched onward and onward after they departed the fields of Pelennor. After some few days had passed, the Host of the West exited Ithilien to the North, and found themselves upon the great Dagorlad, the Battle-plain that had in the past claimed so many lives.

As it would claim many now.

Swiftly, as they neared the Black Gate of Mordor, Aragorn split up his forces along the lines his keen thought had devised as he rode his proud steed Roheryn northward. He arrayed the army of Gondor exactly parallel, and curving at the flanks, with the line of the gates and of the Towers of the Teeth, with the Barbarians arranged in the front lines. To his left flank he set a portion of the Infantry, there to guard the Archers behind them, who must needs inch close enough to send their storms of arrows at the Gates. Behind the Barbarians were massed the main of the infantry, pounding their spears upon their shields and clamoring for battle. Behind all, the Miners had already begun their work, arranging their engines of siege to launch merciless missles of death at their foes. Behind them and facing the north-west, were the main part of the Horsed Knights, readied to sweep the field should any foes attempt to circle them, or should Moria attempt to intervene. The remainder of the Knights stood to the right of Gondor's Host with no allies before them, so that should Mordor attempt a sally, the field would be dripping with Orc-blood. The Rangers were behind the Knights, for the main part, though many of the skilled rogues were even now beginning to scale the great heights of the mountains just to the westsouthwest of the gates. But before the Barbarians stood in wait the Winged Guard of the King, with Aragorn at their head, leading all his men, and above the field the Clutchers soared, out of bowshot for the moment, and awaiting the pleasure of their King.

It had been the agreement between Aragorn and Darre that Gondor would begin the battle, and then when the Host of the Ered Luin arrived, they would launch themselves into the fray, taking Mordor by surprise and confusing them. Even as Gondor had neared the field, hardy Rangers were sent with all speed to the south, where they would inform Dindaedel that Gondor was in position and was beginning the assault.

And this was near enough to the truth, for upon hearing that the Miners were prepared with their engines, Aragorn glanced about the field at the shouts of his warriors, at the smoke rising from the fires of the Archers, at the stamping of horses' hooves and the screams of the Barbarians, and he saw that it was good. And he dropped his hand with a cry to Elendil, and the battle was joined. The Miners threw their trip levers, the Archers loosed their bows, and such was the speed of the Archers that the many thousand were able to fire three more volleys of firey death at the walls before the Miners released their second shots.

And so it went for some time, a great barrage of death rained at the Black Gate by Gondor, the bitterest foe of the Black Land, and yet there was no response from within the walls. Aragorn thought it odd, but kept up the barrage. Seeing that something was afoot, he sent scouts south to meet with Darre and to bring the Dwarven King to stand with him, but to hold back his whole host until the most use could be made of the surprise the Dwarves would bring. He sniffed, though, and the scent of pitch and of tar and of sulphur mixed in his nostrils. He nodded, seeing that it also was good. He would catch the scent of Orc-guts soon enough, and Anduril lusted for blood.

[King Darre]

Twas on this fourth day, as promised, that the Dwarven reinforcements arrived at their destination upon the ancient battleground of Morannon. Numbering in more than 3,000 ships... they had travelled by ship into Gondor's harbors very early this fine morn, and had travelled north. Past the festive docks of Harlond, north, through the Cair Andros blockade, the Dwarven armada sailed. The army docked at the marshy region of Nindalf and departed from their great, sturdy, wooden confines.

King Darre led his now-assembled army further north, yet still as they marched for the Black Gate of Mordor, atop an enormous, yet seemingly tame, boar. He wore a full suit of armour, as did the boar he rode upon. By the time the Dwarves reached the warsite, night had swallowed up the day and the bright stars shown overhead. In the far distance Darre noticed the faint glow of the Gondoriancamp light... He figured Angmar and Lorien would be at Minas Morgul by now. The stout Dwarf-Lord signaled to a nearby Dwarf riding alongside him in a War Chariot. The Dwarf nodded and picked up a horn. He bellowed into the mouthpiece and the deep sound boomed throughout the large, bleak, plains, signalling their arrival.

"You ought to listen to your own people for a change, my dear lord," Andor sweetly replied, ignoring Morsereg's rebuttal of their woodcraft, and openly scoffing at his poor defense. "I have already told the wretch that I am here simply to inform you that Gondor has arrived, and has offered battle to Mordor. I will be going now." He leapt upon his horse and spun away, glancing back at Morsereg as he rode. "You do plan on attacking through the Vale, do you not? Sometime soon, I hope." He shrugged, and the Rangers were gone.



~



The scouts that Aragorn had sent south to intercept Darre met the host of the Ered Luin just as the horn sounded, and seeing the crests of Gondor, the guards and outrunners of the Dwarves allowed the Rangers to pass with all speed; they made their way right up to the guard of the King. Their leader dismounted, a tall fellow and a lieutenant among the Rangers, one Frealar by name, and he bowed deeply to Darre.

"Good my Lord," he said, and kneeling, "the High King Aragorn has offered battle to Mordor, but there is but little response from within the Black Gate. He fears aught that may be amiss, and so begs you to come with all speed yourself to join him upon the field, with those few guards you trust, but suggests that the main of Ered Luin's host be left in its current position, that the element of surprise may best be used against our common foe. All haste is needed, lord - if this counsel seems good to you, then may it please you to follow us at once."

Frealar stood at attention before Darre, awaiting his response.

With the abrupt arrival of the human messenger, Darre haulted his War-boar, and with it, his army. All was silent and the messenger's voice rang through. The Dwarflord stroked his full, snowy-white beard and examined the sun-rotted plains beyond. Nothing. "A trap is perhaps in action... Hmm." With a swift turn, the King wove a hand. "Captains!"

"Sir!"

Four other Dwarves emerged from the thick lines of Dwarven warriors. Darre nodded to one dressed in heavy war armour and carried a large steel mace and another who wore lighter armour, but carried a very large quiver and throwing-axe collection atop his back. "Glamfellow, Kalkinshield, take your legions Southeast until you come to the Ered Lithui. I want you ready for an assult up the Mountains if I give the signal." His eyes fell upon a third Dwarf. This one stood with another atop a large War Chariot and carried both a small quiver of axes and a battle axe. "Venore, remain here with your men. If the order is given, charge down towards the gate. And Aberden," This Dwarven Officer wore thick armour and a very large war mace. "Take the Mountain Giants, Trolls, and Minotaurs and remain here. You too must attack the Gate should the need arise. However the Gryphon Legions are to go with the archers and infantry battalions for arial support."

The four commanders nodded and took off, splitting the armies of the Ered Luin with them. "Now we march!" With a few hundred personal guard, the King rode towards the Gondorian lines.

[Karasu Immolo]

The banners of Khand waved high as they marched upon the battlefield, Karasu calling out orders in the current absence of Lancir. Half of the army was split, going farther back on the plains to take position, while the other half joined with the Gondorian forces. Karasu slid off of his horse upon reaching Gondor's soldiers, holding his scythe firm for the onslaught of Orcs.

Filing in behind the soldiers of Khand came the Haradwaithian host. The ghastly Dimlokhi's who held Arwen captive became visible to Aragorn for the first time as they held their ranks firm, the Guards of Karna taking up position to fence in the Spectral Beasts. "Fire!" Karasu thrust his sword forward into the air and the arrows of Gondor were joined by those of Khand and Karna.

Again and again arrows were fired with the Gondorian's, and Karasu broke his rank to make his way to Aragorn. "What do you take of it? Do you think the coward will ever show his face? Or will he be too busy protecting Barad-Dur?"

(And, no, this isn't breaking the rules. I posted in my Morgul Pass post that they were approaching the Morannon around the time Angmar took up camp.)

[Envin]

Aragorn welcomed both Karasu and Darre as they approached his position.

"They behind the walls indeed seem overcome with cowardice. I am minded to order a massive charge against the walls, with our fully combined strength, that we may overwhelm them, but I would not presume to do such without thy agreements. If thou'rt willing, then Gondor shall take the center, and Khand and Darre the flanks, whiche'er ye choose. Our hosts are impossibly huge - they shall have no adequate defense. What say ye?"

[King Darre]

"If tis we who take the offencive now, then I shall lead my forces over the Ash Mountains and attack from the east. I shall lend you my siege machines, however." Darre's gaze found the craggy peaks of the bleak mountain range near Mordor. "Yes. Dwarves would be best for that rough terrain."

[Alcorad]

Mordor was silent as it had been for many days, weeks, fortnights, and so on. None stirred beyond the Black Gate for the Lord Alcorad had disseapeared without so much as a whisper of his whereabouts. A single orc crawled to the top of the clith where high Durthang looked over the Morannon and the armies that had been assembled before its grim might. "Where is our lord and our master?" the wretched beast cried out to the black heavens. " He scurried back into the caverns. Silence fell save for the restlestness of Morsereg's host aswell as the hosts of his allies when finally something happened. An orc horn blew. Anorgash had come from the doors of Barad-dur itself and flung forth its sleeping fury, the bright light shimmering from the opening doors to release Mordor's host upon the Ghash Road. "Forward you maggots!" he cried forth in cruel delight. "We've got ourselves some fresh blood to soak our teeth with!" The armies roared as the crevices of Gorgoroth opened and felt the light of fire graced the dark atmosphere. The Goblin defenses crawled from their holes in response to the Lord Anorgash. From the monstrous battlements of Barad-dur the Fell Beasts remained perched on high awaiting the return of their master wondering the same thing as the mesely underlings below them. Where had Alcorad, Dark Annatar on High gone to in such silence?

Now was the true beginning....

[King Darre]

"AHAHH!" growled Darre as the rubbling behind the Black Gates sounded the awakening of the Mordorian Host. ""Prepare the catapults and chariot riders from behind. Move forth the legions into the Ash Mountains and attack from the East. Now Dwarves, we march forth to Mordor's doom!" The Dwarfking grasped a powerful fist around the hilt of his war hammer, the other tightened around the boar's reigns.

[Alcorad]

The Gates were held fast and the tall towering peeks of the Mountains Modor barred all pass to the inside save for the cities of Minas Morgul and the narrow pass of Cirith Ungol. There was no sure and fast way into the black land aside from the Black Gate itself. The clouds were gathering over Middle Earth like a black mist for the legions of light had come upon the Gates of the Underworld and knocked upon their very doors with a stick, rousing death from its slumber. Shadow and Flame rendered the world in a great black fog and clouded the shining eyes of the noble men, dwarves, and treacherous minions of the North. A vile treachery had been awaited for many days since the meeting of the dark powers for the chance to strike Angmar could have been sure and fast with the aid of the Son of Morgoth but other plans needed tending, much more urgent plans than the demise of Angmar. The gathered armies and skeletal haunts and vile familiars mixed with those of supposed righteousness and nobility.

From the pits the reserves were roused from North and South as Anorgash lifted his blade on high and let it be drenched in the black flame of industry, showing a light to guide the armies of Mordor to himself aswell as many other things far more dangerous than orc. The petty escalations of terretorial war were over as the forces of Mordor poured forth to finally destroy Middle Earth. Orc, Goblin, Troll, Flying Beast. All of the creatures of shadow and cloud and the remainder of every vile thing had reared its ugly head from the crevices of the pit to stare upon the enemy with curiosity and with hunger. Even the orcs and men were overcome with fear, those of Mordor who had stayed faithful to the dark one. Shamans and Black Clerics whome had long begged the shadows for the returned of their master began to question the powers of their Necronomical abilites. The forces of the ether, the lost reaches of the void, and of every shaded crypt in Arda were crawling forth to abolish the betrayers and the foolish invaders of the West.

The Gates were shut fast and Mount Doom spat forth a fiery rage. Orcs moved to the battlements and catapults were fired from the stone alcoves with the crags of the Ephel Duath. Minas Morgul came to life and lifted on high a pillar of crimson that reached for Barad-dur itself and seemed to be drawing the land around the assembled armies into an increasingly dark prison. The fog had taken hold of the horizon and of the sky. It was not as night when the stars light the sky but as a dark room is when the windows are sealed and a heavy door barred shut. The earth began to moan....


(This is my final little excursion so rather it ends at this battle or not we're going to do some interesting things... my guy will eventually be banished tho.)

[King Darre]

As the sounds of Mordor echoed through the deep valleys, Darre watched the gates expectantly. Yet they budged not. What was this evil? Why was Alcorad cowering behind his gates? Pathetic! The might of the Dwarves would ruin this ancient structure. "MOVE FORTH THE CATAPULTS!" Large double catapults were pushed forward from the far reaches of the Dwarven lines. Artwork in their own right, and engineering marvels.

"FIRRRE!" Growled the captain of the Siege Machines from his post. In close rythm the catapults unleashed their mighty boulders unto the Black Gate. Rock contacted with rock, making horrific grinding sounds. The dozens of machines continued to load and fire...

From the Ashen Mountains clambered the Dwarven Armies, assisted closely with the arial support of the Gryphons. The Minotaurs took the lead, leaping with inhuman strength from rock to rock and leaving the rest of the army in the dust. This was Dwarven terrain. Mountainous and rocky. Familiarity of the Orcs here, and the ground know-how of the Dwarves would now come into play. They would be within Mordor within the hour.

[Alcorad]

Streaks of fire sailed across the black sky as flaming boulders moved silently and eerily from behind the mass wall of shadow that was the Morannon. The earth shrieked as the powers of darkness took hold. The world was losing its natural order. Something elsewhere had gone terribly amiss and now even the Valar were mourning for some unknown lost. Shreiks filled the air and great black owls descended upon the hawks of the air, insects devoured lizards, and the very greens of the earth unleashed earthen fury and strangled the beasts that fed upon them. Shadow choaked out the light and it seemed that dawn would never come while all the while a steady beat echoed beneath the crust of the Dagorlad as if a great laviathon from the deeps of heck was pacing steadily forward.

Anorgash turned his head from side to side as the armies of Mordor were mustered from every nook and cranny of the dark land. The Gate was to be but a destraction for the forces of the dark to gather like an amassing concentration of malice and hate. There was no light to plague the orcs or the other beasts under Alcorad's dominion and the monsters of the night were congregating into their unholy ranks. Within their eyes burned an unnatural fire that even Anorgash was taken aback by. These were not the squabbling orc rubbish that he knew... something was wrong or perhaps right with them that had not been apparent before. Their eyes glistened in the dark like diamonds and they whispered in fell words not of the black speech. Perhaps these were not orcs. Their features could not be distinguished in the unending dark and it seemed as if they had grown webbed wings with sharp horns at each of the limbs' ends and at the tips of their mangled fingers could be distinguished the shapes of sharp talons. "Whats wrong with you apes? Speak! I command you!" Anorgash barked loudly, but it seemed as if his audience was preoccupied with far more than his words. They gathered around him, their whispers slithering through the air like poison. They were now speaking his name in hushed voices, low and soft like that of a child but they were not so sweet. They were gluttonous and hungry with all the cravings of a starven warg. The beasts were hungry.

[~Tom~]

As the demons looked onwards at the unkowing orcs. Murazor Bauglir , the son of evil stepped forth . The Orc Anorgash breathed a sigh of relief , the last he would ever take , as Murazor shot his hand forth and snapped the vile orcs kneck like it was a mere twig beneath his foot . " Do what must be done, then prepare for battle" with that the demons let out a crys of frenzy as they started to feed upon the orcs of Mordor.

The orcs were to be replaced by a more powerful race of beings.

[~Tom~]

From all over Bauglirs empire came upon the alliance of Gondor, the legions of the North which in their full force included mirkwood , erebor, arnor, and Angrenost. Ther were on there way to destroy the idiotic dwarven lard and his allies that opposed the reign of darkness.

In Mordor the dwarfs had little power against the combined power of Bauglir and Alcorad. The approaching hosts could be seen coming over the horizon as a black tide.

[Envin]

As confusion seemed to take hold within the Walls betwixt the Towers of the Teeth, the forces mustered against Narchost and Carchost were not silent. As the flaming Dwarven catapults withered the battlements of Mordor, so too did the Miners of Gondor let fly their deathly missiles and their balls of pitch. And at the forefront of the Gondorian lines stood Aragorn, his cloak fallen, and his sword shining in his hand. He mustered his mass of Barbarians behind him, and after thousands upon thousands of arrows had been loosed by the good archers, Aragorn called for the charge. He lifted Anduril in the air, and the light of the sun caught it, and the trumpeters knew that for their signal. All the Dagorlad seemed to hush for a few still moments there amid the heat and the screams and the gripping fear of death, and into that stillness there sang the song of the Horns of Gondor, Horns of the Sea-Kings, Horns of Numenor. And they filled Aragorn's ears and uplifted his soul, and the hearts of all the men behind him were filled with resolve. And they roared.

South came the Barbarians of Gondor, driving the darkness before them. South came the Infantrymen behind them, with shining eyes hungry for blood, and the outlook for Mordor was grim. But before all went Aragorn with Anduril like a new fire kindled, the Elendilmir upon his brow, and flames in his eyes. The combined allied hosts set to defend the north arrayed themselves for an onslaught by Bauglir's host, but the Miners still poured death at the Walls. And now, even as missiles and foul darts came from the Walls, the Barbarians gained them. Swiftly were ladders thrown up, reinforced by chains swiftly driven into the Walls, and screaming Gondor's finest crested the Morannon beneath the smile of Anor. First atop the Walls was the proud and upright form of the unblenching child of Silmarien, and his foes either fled before the righteous gaze of his face, or they fell. Anduril sang and smoked in the black blood of his prey, and Aragorn called to his men, and swiftly did they follow their Lord into the Valley of the Shadow of Death.


{OOC: I only said that Aragorn was on the Wall. Kick me off if you want. ]

[~Tom~]

The Dark Host closed the gap between the Gondorians and them by a few leagues ... Doom was on its way as the footsteps could be felt those precious leagues away by the silver stars that were Gondors Men..

Behind the wall was Bauglir, any in his way fell to there doom friend and foe , it didnt matter who died as long as he reached his goal , Ellessar ... By Now he had reached the high King , indeed he was high , but soon he was going to join the dirt and just like his fall , Gondors would be faster..

[Alcorad]

The great gates of Doom held fast against the continuous onslaught of the seige engines of Elessar and his comrades but for every moment that passed, Alcorad's chaos began to take hold. From the East a great host of seventy thousand marched from the desolation and from the North came seventy-nine thousand more. They were not so much the same as they had always been in ages past. There were no war chants on this day save from the great hum of Gondorian horns. The hosts approaching seemed to be whispering as approaching at an alarming rate. The darkness had veiled their progress but still torches and lustful eyes were visible. Arda itself was tearing asunder from the inside and the earth moved into violent spasms of flame, spitting forth lava from its subterrenean core. The plan was being pulled into focus as the provinces of the Black Empire moved together to devour the hosts of the West. Alcorad was coming forth.