View Full Version : War of the Lost Kings

07-14-2010, 12:50 PM
This is my entry for the fan fiction competition.
Note: This story is created with the help of different Fantasy Friday and old Media updates. I do not have or received any more background info on the story than any other on this forum.

Chapter One, The Last Hours of Morsing

People claimed it to be foolish, even insane. The nobles laughed right into my face when I proposed a daring effort. Their laughter and insults could still be heard when leaving the room. But that did not stop me from fulfilling my goals and dreams. I have taken a big risk by pursuing my grand design.

Long ago, south-east of The Rolling Plains, is a dark forest where once humans used to settle, to call home. But that was long, long ago. Now it is desolate, for no man lives in those woods. Only beasts that drove out my ancestors from their rightful place. Now I have corrected that mistake. With me I brought my soldiers, my servants and many who wanted to regain our lost lands, and together we build a safe haven, where light can be found in the darkness. That settlement was called Morsing, the beacon of justice in a lawless zone.

Three years have passed, and our settlement grew with every new settler that came, hoping to gain land to call their own in a society where the nobles control everything, and the lower class is left with scraps. It was located on top of a hill, with dozens of farms surrounding it. It had walls of wood, for stone was hard to find in this area. The hill was surrounded with fir trees, as far as your eye could see. To the north there was a lake, where we would get water for our lands and throats. Our way of life was simple, but we had everything we could want in life. But that was about to change...

It was on a winternight. Snow still covered the fir trees, gradually falling off because of the piercing winds. The full moon stood high in the night sky, and you could hear the wolves howl. Until suddenly, their howls were silenced. It turned quiet in the forest. I was on sentry duty when it happened. I was there when I heard a drum, beating silently in the woods. Every six seconds I could hear that drum beat, louder as time passed. Suddenly it stopped. I waited as many rose from their slumber to investigate the strange sound at night.

After agonising long minutes had passed, the drumming started once more. Only this time, it was louder and more in number, all beating at the same rhythm. Soldiers were arming themselves, manning the wall and waiting in anxiety. Women and children were crying, praying from the depth of their heart that they would pass them by. After minutes of beating, it stopped once more. Tension rose amongst the soldiers, all waiting what would happen next. It was then that a battlehorn sounded amongst the trees.

Countless of orcs and goblins began swarming from the tree line, all shouting in their own dialect. The drums started beating again, in a faster pace, while marauders and catapults began to rain down fiery death from above. The defenders tried to repel the oncoming onslaught, but with no avail. I too stood on that wall, seeing the massive orc horde closing in on our position. Several of my comrades fired volleys of arrows in the hope they could slow them down, or better yet, try to make them route. But their assault was relentless.

I saw enemy fire rain down on the wall, impailing the defenders with arrows. My best friend buckled under the stress and threw away his sword, running and screaming in the hopes that he could still escape the impending doom. He got hit later on by a fiery boulder, igniting as it hit, wailing while trying to extinguish the flames. His screams of agony still haunt my dreams.

The orcs managed to get a battering ram at the gate, and as we abandoned the walls to reinforce the gate, peasants ran in panick and disarray, running towards the secret exit, hoping they could still make it out. The battering ram hammered down as we prepared to intercept the enemy at the gate, where their strenght in numbers could not be utilised. The only place where we could have a fighting chance. But our hopes were short lived, as the gate came crashing down, and the onslaught began.

The gate came down as we readied ourselves for the oncoming waves. But the waves of orcs and goblins never came. Ogres charged at our ranks, swinging their clubs clumsily at the defenders. Several men flew as the club met their shields. No force could stand up against those ogres. Hope had faded as soldiers began to leave rank and ran, deserting their comrades to an ill fate. The city was ablaze, as orcs began to surge into the stronghold. Every man, woman and child would meet their end at the sword. Some had an even worse fate, for those that got captured would be brought back to their stronghold. Man flesh tastes better when served fresh.

Morsing had fallen. The city was razed, its citizens butchered. It would take several days before news would reach Dagbor of its demise. The king ordered all cities to muster arms against this new threat. The plans of recolonization of Thikken Dal failed miserably, as I got ridiculed at my return. My name is Karl Morsen, founder and sole survivor of Morsing.

The War of Lost Kings Has Begun.

07-15-2010, 04:04 AM
So... is it good? Would really appreciate some feedback if i'm going to continue with this fanfic, like what needs changing and stuff.

Henry Martin
07-15-2010, 07:24 AM
yes it is good. I would like to see more.

07-15-2010, 07:55 AM
YAAAAY response.:D
Will probably have more later today.

Henry Martin
07-15-2010, 09:53 PM
YAAAAY response.:D
Will probably have more later today.

Hey I gave you a response, wheres the story?:p

07-16-2010, 05:14 AM
Hey I gave you a response, wheres the story?:p

You can´t force inspiration! :eek:

Will be up later today... or when i feel like writing..

07-16-2010, 10:26 AM
Chapter Two, War and Betrayal


The human lands of Teria are at war. Hordes of orcs have mobilised at the borders of Thikken Dal and Rollingplain. Word of Morsing's destruction has send a wave of panick and uproar through the land. Cities are mustering their defences as countless nobles are summoned to Dagbor, capital of Teria, to discuss on how to deal with this new threat.

Rollingplain is in a state of high alert. Rollingplain has always been a barren landscape, where trees grow few and the soil is unsuited for farming and husbandry. It is because of its steady supply of goldmines that it manages to flourish, although some cities still struggle with poverty. Cities like Darssen, Bonten and Warphel will not be able to hold back the relentless horde, yet alone hold them at bay for aid to arrive.

Thorndale is by far the largest and strongest city in Rollingplain. It is there that the lords of Thorndale govern the fast tracks of land under their care. Rumors of invasion are the key subject of debate amongst the nobles, for if the rumors are true, they cannot hold of this massive force on their own. Highlord Valan sits on this throne with a troubled brow, unsure of what action to undertake.

The nobles argue amongst themselves, debating the optimal solution to this dilemma. "The time to act is now!" lord Hector concludes. "But our force alone cannot hold back this horde, yet alone defeat it!" says lord Manistor. "King Erian will not abandon us to our fate. We must send word for reinforcements" magistrate Barthilas replied. The debate continue to wage, until finally highlord Valan rises. "King Terian will not abandon us, but we do not have the luxury to wait any longer!" Highlord Valan pauses. "Cities will fall while we sit here and do nothing, hoping for reinforcements they might not send. We will send word, but we will not wait".Highlord Valan sent for messengers to relay his orders to outlying towns and cities. "Let all villagers evacuate to the nearest city, and conscript every man and boy able to bear arms. Assemble the horsemen!" "What for?" magistrate Barthilas asked? "We will meet the orc host on the open plains".


Nobles from far and wide have gathered at Dagbor for an emergency counsel. Nobles from Doredale, Galehock and Thorndale anwsered the call. Even the Menthorns, although for entirely different reasons. For ages have Dagbor and Menthorn been in a struggle for power and dominance. The Menthorns believe it is their birthright to rule, but that is was usurped by Dagbor. This powerstruggle has been going on for ages, but now an opportunity has presented itself, an opportunity they've been waiting for.

They sat around a round table, with King Erian elevated above all others on his throne. "Let this counsel be joined". "Your majesty, we must send forces east. Thorndale alone cannot hope to win against a horde of this capacity" lord Elias started. "Doredale does not have the manpower to spare. We must look to our own defenses" replied lord Bannis.

It was then that Menthorn spoke. "This dilemma could have been avoided with strong leadership. Leadership our king Erian apparently lacks". The nobles were baffled of the words that lord Menthorn dared to utter. A debate began to arise between hypocrites who questioned King Erian's rule, and the loyalists who defended King Erian honor. Lord Menthorn had done it. He planted the seeds of mistrust and betrayal amongst the nobles, powerful allies in his plans to come. It was then that lord Menthorn spoke once more. "I will not waste the lives of my soldiers for a king who's incompetence led to these grim developments. I will not fight your war". Having said this, lord Menthorn left for home, to plan his revolution.

Days later, just west of Durian Foss, scouts withnessed a massive army heading towards Dagbor. An army bearing the Menthorn heraldy. News of this sighting was quickly sent to Dagbor, where King Erian decides to recall Southmont's armies to counter this threat. The Menthorn civil war has begun.

07-17-2010, 04:33 PM
Chapter Three, The Sacrifice of Few

Part One

The war of the lost kings is reaching what seem to be its final chapters, as cities fall prey to the unstoppable horde. The sky is ablaze with fire and smoke, and the very soil is stained with the blood of men. The hour is late as hope seems to dwindle, for the men of the Rollingplain realize that aid will not come. The fate of men will be decided on the open fields of Rollingplain. But it is not only men that suffer from brutal assaults of the orcish horde. For in the east, orcs march into elven lands, almost unopposed, save for few who still have the will to fight.

"Take your time''. His words stayed with Findor as he readied my bow. "Patience" the elder elf behind him continued. "Aim straight and true and it will hit". Fifty yards in front of them stood Illas'tal'fiah, a mighty doe said to be as swift and agile as the soaring wind. Many skilled hunters have tried, only to fail. He took a firlos in my hand and prepared his bow. He pulled back the bowstring and aimed for her heart. Illas'tal'fiah rose her head, trying to sense the approaching danger. "Wait, Findor. Wait for her to lower her guard" said the elder elf. Saelnír was a wise elf, a friend of nature and a ranger by heart. He too has tried to deliver the killing blow, only to fail as many before him. When he asked him what went wrong, he replied: "I did not have the heart to rob this magnificent creature of life. Its serene aura dulled my senses, and tempered the flame in my chest". "In other words, you chickened out" Findor replied, with a smirk on his face. "Focus on what lies ahead instead of ridiculing me. You will need all the concentration you have". Findor aimed once more, trying to remain a sturdy pose. Sweat was forming on his face as Illas'tal'fiah rose her head in alarm. "Now loose!” Findor released his bowstring, sending the firlos flying in illas'tal'fiah's direction. The firlos flew towards the target with amazing speed, traversing 50 yards in mere seconds. She notices the firlos as she attempts to dodge the oncoming projectile.

It missed with several feet. Illas'tal'fiah has defeated the hunters once more. "I missed...” Findor responds with a frown on his face. "It was to be expected" Saelnír replied. "Many great hunters have tried and failed to kill Illas'tal'fiah, did you honestly expect her to fall at the hands of a novice?" Saelnír couldn't help but smirk at the overconfidence of the youth, to Findor's annoyance. "Let us return home. We have done enough hunting for this week". With that said Saelnír left, followed by Findor carrying the equipment. "I did nearly nail her, though" to what Saelnír replied: "Yes, if you define 12 feet off your target as nearly, then yes you nearly 'nailed' her". Findor's ego shattered with that remark, asking to his teacher: "You do enjoy ruining the mood on each hunting trip we go on, don't you?” "It comes with the job, crushing the hopes and dreams of apprentices who overestimate their own abilities". They continued their journey homeward is silence, hoping not to invoke yet another sarcastic remark from his tutor. After several hours of journey they finally reached Gelmeerim, the city of the sky. At the gate they witnessed a peculiar sight. They saw legions of elven warrior, knight and archers camping outside the city gate, getting supplies before they head onward. As Findor and Saelnír moved towards the gate they witnessed yet another peculiar sight.

Alagosnír, commander of the elven legions, was standing outside arguing with Helegdhor, lord of Gelmeerim. "Our scouts have witnessed increased gelmee activity in the southeast at their stronghold Nokkrasol. There is no question that they plan to invade. And now, while our need is dire, you dare withhold us supplies and men we most desperately need?!".”I am sorry, but we do not have soldiers to spare" Helegdhor replied. "We hardly have half a legion here at Gelmeerim, and they are here to defend this city and its inhabitants. We will share our supplies with you, but I'm afraid I cannot do more". With that said Alagosnír returned to his men, but still had time to utter these words. "I hope you will reconsider before the end".

Alagosnír regrouped his legions and headed southeast to the Taltos Pass to intercept to incoming horde. "What was that all about?" Findor wondered. "I do not know." Saelnír replied "But it is best not to dwell on these matters. We have supplies to deliver". They headed towards the gate, where Helegdhor watched the elven legions march headlong towards their doom. "Birethos, Helegdhor. It seems we returned at less favorable times". Helegdhor turned to Saelnír and responded: "Ethas, Saelnír. It is good to see your face once more". Their conversation was interrupted by Findor, who asked what had happened in their absence. "Gelmee have been flocking towards Nokkrasol. Their intentions are unclear, but it seems war is unavoidable. The High Council of Archons has given command of the legions to Alagosnír to deal with the threat accordingly. Alagosnír has stripped Taltos of men and supplies in the hope of eradicating the Gelmee horde before the strike". "A bold strategy." Saelnír replies "But gelmee are not weak, nor are they alone. Their horde will consist of beast unimaginable to you and me, and their numbers will reach into the tens of thousands. Alagosnír is a good commander, but a fool, hell-bent on gaining glory for his house". "His thirst for glory will be the undoing for his legions" Helegdhor added. "And when the legions fall, our lands will see carnage unlike anything we've ever seen". Findor shakes his head nervously, trying to get the image of maimed elven bodies out of his head, but with no avail. "Let's not fret of times to come. Things happen on the battlefield, for better and for worse. Whatever the outcome, we must embrace it as our fate. Come Findor, we still have hides to sell". With that said, Findor and Saelnír enter Gelmeerim, unsure of what the future may bring.

Note: This will most likely be a 2-parter, else it would turn out a lot longer (plus i would waste 3 more hours). Will have more tomorrow.

Konstantin Fomenko
07-17-2010, 04:56 PM
Really great stuff! Thanks for a good read.

One small correction - the Taltos capital is Gelmeerim not Gelmeering. If I`m not mistake that translates as Sky Citadel.

07-17-2010, 05:00 PM
Yes, noticed it as well. Correcting it as we speak.

07-18-2010, 08:32 AM
Chapter Three, The Sacrifice of Few

Part Two

Days have passed since the departure of the elven legions, and tranquility returned to the mountainous region of Taltos. But tranquility may not be the proper word to describe the mood of the alpine elves. Anxiety plagues those who stayed behind, unsure of the fate of their warriors and their own. The peace and tranquility being merely a facade to hide their insecurity and fear for darker times that may yet come. The older elves however do not worry too much. They have seen and survived battles between orc, men and even their own kin. They know that being worried of things beyond their control will only breed despair. So mundane life continues for the alpine elves as they await news of victory in days to come.

Findor stopped as he looked at the tracks in the mud. The rain made the soil soft, and made it easier for animals to leave footprints in the earth. He mentally compared the track with the one in his mind, and sighed. "The wrong one, again!" he said to himself as frustration grew on his face. He'd rather start kicking a tree by now or throw tantrums into thin air, but knew it would scare of the prey he so desperately seeked. Illas'tal'fiah had humiliated him days before, humiliated him severely as word spread amongst the other hunters of his 'near kill shot' that missed horrendously. "Damn Saelnír, that old fart!" he cursed in his thoughts. No doubt it was Saelnír that started the rumors of Findor's 'pinpoint accuracy' amongst the other hunters. Youths of his age would smirk every time he passed them. Even the girl he liked couldn't contain the grin on her face, to his dismay. He had to correct his error, and he already knew the perfect way to do it. For days he has stalked Illas'tal'fiah, in the blazing sun and the pouring rain. He studied her in full detail this time before going for the kill. Her movements, her resting places, what she eats, where she drinks, everything. But three days ago, something terrible happened. Findor lost sight of his prey. He would have to pick up the trail fast, or else return once more in failure. "Going back now is no option" he told himself, and went in pursuit of his prey. For three days non-stop he searched for Illas'tal'fiah, but nothing so far. All the tracks he had found were not hers. "Why are there so many deer in Taltos? I mean, it's bad enough I can't find her tracks, but why do all the tracks have to look almost identical??" he complained to himself. "What happened to all the boars and wolves and fluffy bunnies?” Three days of non-stop tracking have taken their toll on Findor's weary mind. Black rings formed under his eyelids, who kept twitching with every waking moment. His legs almost unable to carry the weight of his body, and his arms barely able to keep his bow steady. He needed some rest before continuing the hunt. He knew that even if he caught up with Illas'tal'fiah, his body was in no condition to kill or hurt the beast. He prepared a fire and unpacked his bundle, and began resting his body for the hunt to follow.

It was late and Findor was asleep. The fire had died out in the following hours, and it had turned pitch dark in the forests of Taltos. Findor was fast asleep, or it looked that way. In fact, he was still awake, unable to close his eyes and dream of better times. Deep down, the boy still feared the legions might fail, and that war would devastate this region and its inhabitants. He had never seen a gelmee before, only heard of them in stories. They were told that gelmee were savage and fierce, and that they could come and feast on little children's hearts if they were to misbehave. Back then he believed those stories, but as he grew older he began to fear the stories less and less, casting them aside as 'fairytales to scare children'. But now, as the gelmee hordes amass, he hopes that the stories were far from accurate from the real deal. It's then that from the bushes behind him start to move. Findor moves to get his bow and firlos, when out of nowhere, Illas'tal'fiah jumps out over Findor's head and runs towards the shadow. Findor arms himself and pursues her for several hours, until finally she stops at the end of a cliff. There she stands vigilant and unmoving, almost as if she doesn't sense Findor in the bushes several yards away. "This is a chance of a lifetime" he thinks to himself as he readies his bow and firlos and aims for her chest. He is about to fire his firlos, as Illas'tal'fiah turns around, nodding her head up and down, as if signaling Findor to come closer. Minutes have passed when finally Findor reluctantly lowers his bow and approaches Illas'tal'fiah.

When next to Illas'tal'fiah, he sees a grim, macabre sight when overlooking the valley. The valley is littered with gelmee and elven corpses. Blood stains the ground red as smoke rises from nearby fires amidst the massacre. Findor rushes to the valley below in the hopes of finding survivors. On arrival he can smell the scent of death and decay shrouding the valley. Findor continues his search, trying to avoid the pools of blood and flesh scattered across the battlefield. Then he hears soft moaning several yards from his position. Findor rushes towards the sound, not caring for his own safety, in the hopes of saving his kinsman and finding out what had happened. When reaching his kinsman, Findor gasps at the sight in front of him. The elf was barely alive, with a missing arm and several cuts and stab wounds in his chest. The remainder of his left arm was in a serious stage of decay, a foul odor emitting from it. The elf was barely conscious, fading in and out because of the excruciating pain. He was beyond saving. Findor came closer, hoping to get answers. "What happened here?? Where are the rest of the legions??" but no response. Findor took out his dagger and aimed for the dying elf's heart, saying: “Un da a'bentita erdro". With that said, he thrusts the dagger in the elf's heart, faintly hearing the elf's last words: "Kinios". Findor turns away, on the verge of vomiting. Findor had taken many lives in the past, but never that of a kinsman. Even out of the noblest of gestures, killing another elf still weighs heavy on Findor's heart. Findor must hurry back to Gelmeerim to notify the others. The elven legions have fallen. The Gelmee horde is still at large, destroying all that crosses its path.

Note: Well, guess it's going to be a three parter. Wanted to finish this sidestory with this, but after 3 hours of writing i've decided to write the conclusion later today.

07-18-2010, 08:40 AM
Awesome story so far, and I don't mean to be picky or anything but.."Findor had taken many lives, but never that of a human being."..wouldn't it make more sense if changed into "his kinsman" or "elf" or something akin to that, since they aren't human? Just being nitpicky, otherwise awesome story:P

07-18-2010, 08:45 AM
consider it altered. :)

07-18-2010, 03:12 PM
Chapter Three, The Sacrifice of Few

Part Three

Findor ran like the wind, faster than he had ever run before. He had to return to Gelmeerim, to warn the city of its impending doom. He ran homeward not caring of his own safety. He took shortcuts that would be considered reckless and foolhardy, like jumping over chasms and navigating over unstable soil. Not to consider the fact that he had no clue how far the gelmee horde was, or if they bothered patrolling the area for stray elves to kill. But he knows that slowing down was not an option. It didn't matter if he got hurt or if he got spotted, because if he were to fail, and Gelmeerim falls, the entire region of Taltos and its inhabitants would fall into the hands of these monsters. "I got to hurry" Findor repeated in his mind. "Please don't let me be too late".

The Battle of Taltos Pass

Alagosnír marched with his legions to meet the opposing force. Alagosnír rode on ahead to survey the area and his army. The location was perfect. The Taltos Pass was a valley of nearly 2 miles in width with steep mountain ranges of both sides, like a bottleneck, making any flanking attempt on his forces futile. The gelmee would have to funnel their forces straight into his infantry, while his cavalry would ride around the battlefield and cut of any escape route for them to use. The ranger battalions would then rain volleys of arrows down onto the beleaguered gelmee forces and route, while later on cut down by his cavalry. It was a basic elven strategy, one that hasn't failed the elves yet. The legions entrusted to him were veteran soldiers, trained since they reached youth-hood and armed with the finest weapons and armor made available to them. The emphasis of the elven army was strictly on melee units, with contingents of cavalry and archers to support the bulk of the army. The elven army consisted of 20000 soldiers, divided over 9 legions. 6 legions consisted of infantry; 6000 sentries, 4000 bladestorms and 2000 grand masters. 2 legions consisted of cavalry; 2000 heavy cavalry and 2000 mounted rangers. The last legion consisted of 4000 rangers, who would be key in this attrition based strategy. While the soldiers prepared for combat,
Alagosnír called his captains to his side for a final war meeting. "Soon we will face countless waves of gelmee and ollgruba, and we will stand strong. How much longer before preparations are done?" Alagosnír asked. "Negethár needs more time to position his cavalry, and Carachir is still distributing firlos amongst his rangers" captain Maethoron replied. "And tell me, captain" Alagosnír continued: "How do you estimate our chances of victory?” Captain Maethoron replied: "The Gelmee are beast, with no knowledge of strategy. They pose no threat to our forces". Alagosnír smirked when hearing his captain's reply. "Let us hope they are as stupid as they seem. We'll find out soon enough". Moments later, drums start to beat as they can hear cries of battle on the horizon. "Get the men into formation! Signal Negethár as soon as they enter the bottleneck! They've come..."

The gelmee horde seemed endless. Their numbers were in the tens of thousands, perhaps even more. Their horde consisted of orcs, goblins, ogres, fierce wargs and war machines. The orcs were large, almost twice the size of an elf it nearly seemed, carrying to battle spiked shields, jagged swords and spears and axes. Their grunts and cries deafening even from a distance to instill fear in the elven ranks. The goblins were smaller of size, but more numerous than the orcs. Their shrill voices making sounds that would destroy an eardrum up close. The wargs were mighty, ferocious beasts capable of tearing its prey in two. Their howls pierced through the sounds as if a warning to all. 'Abandon all hope, ye who stands in our way. But by far the worse threat were the ogres. They towered above all other beasts in the massive horde, carrying clubs the size of a tree, capable of smashing even the strongest to bits. All kinds of horrendous beasts composed their horde. They marched on, while the drums were beating and battle horns were blowing. Their united warcry instilling fear in the elven legions.

"Drell-drell!... Harragen!... Gellem!... Farrebbon!... Gellemakk!... Heggen!... Skarrav!... Terredd!... Terredd!!"

This war chant continued on, with drums beating and horns blowing, until finally it stopped, along with the horde. Minutes passed as both forces remained vigilant, waiting for the order that would the battle of a lifetime. Finally the order was given. "Harragen!". Suddenly orcs, goblins and other beast started to charge, shouting as they closed in for the kill. Alagosnír stood at the front of the line, surrounded by his grand master bodyguards, saying: "Asthmos, prepare for glory! Let no ollfah survive! A'Khallee!!" The soldiers took up formation and waited for the oncoming onslaught. They came not a second to soon. The horde crashed into the elven ranks, trying to overwhelm the defenders and open a gap in their line. Alagosnír predicted this however, as the defenders did not seem to move even an inch from their position, cutting down the gelmee and ollgruba in front of them. Arrows raining down upon the incoming gelmee slayers. They fell in droves, with arrows piercing their shields and skulls. But they had archers of their own. Their marauders and prowlers ignited their arrows, and sent volleys at a time into the elven army. Though the casualties were far less than the gelmees, it was casualties the elves could not afford. The gelmee war machines started to rain down fiery boulders upon the elves, killing several in an instant, and igniting the elves adjacent to them. Alagosnír wanted to wait before using his trump card, but the need was far too urgent to ignore. He signaled Negethár to begin his charge. Negethár and 4000 cavalrymen came out of nowhere, catching the gelmee off guard. Their objective was to destroy the siege engines, and their archers along with them. They charged at the marauder ranks, which were firing volleys of arrows in the hopes of stopping the oncoming cavalrymen, but with no avail. The gelmee warg riders began to intercept the elven cavalry, but they were shot down mercilessly by mounted rangers because of the lack of armor. The heavy cavalry made short work of the marauders and siege engines, and started to focus on the remainder of warg riders. In the meantime, ogres began to pound a hole in the defensive line of the elves. Grand masters and bladestorms began to attack the unrelenting ogres, but their attempts seemed futile, as the damage has already been done. Waves of gelmee and ollgruba began to punch through the dent in the elven lines, pushing back the sentry battalions. Sentry battalions are strong as an unified force, but separate, fighting several foes at once, and they fall as easily as any other soldier. The battle is turning into a bloodbath, as elves are now fighting up close for their very survival. Alagosnír fought alongside his men, raising morale of surrounding soldiers, to inspire them to fight even harder. The elven legions were severely pressed, perhaps even moments from breaking into a route. It was then that Alagosnír close the trap. He signaled Negethár and his cavalry, and they knew what had to be done. They turned towards the enemy rear, and charged in with fervor. The gelmee horde was boxed in between the elven infantry in the front, and the elven cavalry in the rear. Ollgruba started to turn and flee in full panic, in the attempts to escape their fate. Alagosnír and his could almost smell victory. But Alagosnír could not have foreseen what would happen next.

A ball of fire came raining down out of nowhere, directly upon the ranger battalions. Alagosnír watched in horror as hundreds of his kinsmen lit up in flames, screaming in agony and crying out for water. A mighty, deafening roar silenced all sounds of battle. He could not have known that the gelmee had such a beast at their disposal. "Sissenli!!!" an elf cries out, as he flees in horror, deserting his comrades to the gelmee onslaught. The dragon kept shooting fire down on the elven soldiers, as the gelmee charged on with renewed fervor. "Take it down!!" shouts Alagosnír, but it is already too late. Battalions of elves are in full retreat, only to be hunted down by the remaining warg riders. The mounted rangers are getting pummeled by the ogres, brutally with no remorse. The last ranger battalions fall prey to the dragon's fiery breath as Carachir attempts to kill it from afar, but with no success. Ollgrubba huddle down upon the ranger captain as his cries of pain weaken the resolve of his men to fight. Alagosnír watches in horror as the mighty elven legions get annihilated. Suddenly he feels a sting in his back. He looks down to discover a spear lodged in his body. His face is filled with horror as he slowly starts to drown in his own blood, for the spear pierced his right lung. His vision starts to get blurry, as his life comes to an end. The gelmee warlord watches as Alagosnír draws his final breaths. He raises his axe, and lands the killing blow. Alagosnír's head is now serves as a trophy on top of the gelmee battle standard as a warning to the elves.

"Your legions have fallen, your people all but annihilated. Your lands will burn and your kind will be erased from this world. Now comes the age of the orc!"

Note: Ok, guess there will be a part 4...
When I began typing this, I didn't think it would be this long. But I'll probably have more tomorrow(or when I have time).

12-04-2010, 04:29 PM
you are books writer ?

12-04-2010, 04:30 PM
cous its not bed :)

12-04-2010, 04:51 PM
This is great! It almost makes me wish i could go back to my days of writing this way...hmmm memories!

12-04-2010, 05:02 PM
Wow nice work, keep it coming man! If i had the effort to id write something like this but meh haha.

12-04-2010, 11:45 PM
Excellent job! it kept my attention the whole time I was reading it.

12-05-2010, 05:44 AM
this was an intresting read. I enjoyed ^-^

waiting for part 4 <3~

12-05-2010, 06:21 PM
Yeh nice work man... sounds like you have a good idea of whats happenin

12-06-2010, 11:33 PM
Holy crap that was epic i wonder how long it took him to write that out just whoa. Epic nice and well done.

12-22-2010, 08:07 AM
You can´t force inspiration! :eek:

Will be up later today... or when i feel like writing..

It was then that Menthorn spoke. "This dilemma could have been avoided with strong leadership. Leadership our king Erian apparently lacks". The nobles were baffled of the words that lord Menthorn dared to utter. A debate began to arise between hypocrites who questioned King Erian's rule, and the loyalists who defended King Erian honor. Lord Menthorn had done it. He planted the seeds of mistrust and betrayal amongst the nobles, powerful allies in his plans to come. It was then that lord Menthorn spoke once more. "I will not waste the lives of my soldiers for a king who's incompetence led to these grim developments. I will not fight your war". Having said this, lord Menthorn left for home, to plan his revolution.

iphone book reader (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OnQRn2N1sdQ)
iphone ebook (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OnQRn2N1sdQ)

01-20-2011, 10:01 PM
Rather well put together, Pretty talented there man keep it up :)

01-22-2011, 02:04 PM
wow amesome story so far keep up the good work cant wait for part 4

01-31-2011, 02:29 PM
Epic story bro i loved reading it :)

02-03-2011, 05:28 PM
Wow, really nicely made.

02-03-2011, 11:02 PM
Very nicely written! Good job with neatly spaced paragraphs so it's much easier to read, I can't wait for more! I wish I could write like you, my work is a little less refined.

02-05-2011, 12:58 AM
Япошка блин я завалю твоихэ орков)

02-12-2011, 08:06 AM
Great story friend

02-14-2011, 01:14 PM
nice and well wrote story man, I really remembers me old times on Tibia forums, maybe someone here remember them.

05-07-2011, 03:40 PM
Seems really good:)

05-10-2011, 03:56 PM
Very nice indeed. :)

06-25-2011, 12:39 PM
Really Nice