WAR OF THE ELVES

A six part story written for English class

by Kieran Fox

This story is © Kieran Fox 1998

HEAVILY EDITED FROM ORIGINAL BY ME

The percent is the mark I got on each part in class.

Caution: Relatively High Blood/Gore Content

If you are sensitive to violence or death please do not read this, or leave my site!!

PART 1-95%

Battle At Andilles Plain

Suddenly, an arrow hit Eomer in his shoulder. Luckily, his shoulder pad protected him from any serious injury, although the pain and the blood gushing from his shoulder weren't exactly harmless at the time. He turned around, pulled out his long sword, and spun around with it oustretched. An Orc lost his head. You see, Elven swords always glowed when Orcs were near. It was only one of the many magical traits possed by the Elven swords. Of couse, it was still glowing. There were Orcs all around him. They swarmed over Andilles plain like a sea of green. The year was 1234, and it was not a happy time for the Elves. It didn't make it any easier for Eomer that he was a general. With this oncoming of Orcs, he had to decide what would save their lives. He turned to his standard bearer on his left, Fewin. "Fewin! he cried, The arrow banner!" Fewin lifted high a large blue banner with a curious rune and a picture of a golden arrow on it.

The Elven soldiers sheathed their swords and pulled out bows and a quiver filled with blue feathered arrows. They lifted their bows high into the air and each readied an arrow. "FIRE!" yelled Eomer with all his might. He turned around and cleaved a small goblin in half. It was a suicide goblin, known to the Elves as bombers. Strapped to the Goblin's back was a bomb with enough gunpowder to make a hole in the ground. It was running on a fuse that was inside the bomb. There was also a chain that the goblin could pull to set the bomb off with a five second delay so that he could get as close to as many foes as possible. Eomer yelled "Take cover!" pulled the chain and threw the bomb into the midst of a squad of particularly nasty and large black Orcs that were taking Elves down all around with little effort. Green blood and body parts went flying in all directions.

The Orcs were terrified by the fact that the Elves had begun to use gunpowder. It had never happened before. In the midst of this confusion, the Elven arrows that had been shot into the air moments before came thundering down onto the disorganised Orcs and Goblins. The hundreds of arrows killed many of the Orcs, but some were only injured. The Orcs felt basically no pain, therefore they lost limbs and so on, and still continued fighting, making them deadly opponents.

Green blood stained the ground of Andilles plain. But the arrows were not enough. There were far too many Orcs to be stopped by a wave of arrows. They advanced quickly over Andilles plain, and met the first rank of Elven swordmen. Battle raged. Swords were broken, Orc and Elf were slaughtered, and for what? Land, power? These things truly meant nothing in comparison to happiness and love. But how could the Elves live in happiness and safely if there were not soldiers to stop the marauding Orcs? There was no true answer.

"So many in number, thought Eomer, bu they must have a weaknessÉof course! They told us back in cadet training that Orcs always depended on their leader. "If Orcs see that their commander can be defeated, thatn they truly beleive that they too can be just as easily killed." I remember my instructor saying those exact words."

"Fewin!" , he said as he turned around to face his standard bearer. He heard only a moan for reply. A particularly large Orc had snuck up behind Fewin and was in the middle of picking him up to rip off his arms. Orcs always took particular pleasure in the death of their enemies' generals and other important leaders.

"No!" yelled Eomer. Fewin lost his arms in an orgy of blood and muscle tissue. The Orc laughed in a sinister way as heard Fewin screaming and as he saw the red Elf blood splatter all over the place. Fewin fell to the ground and began to convulse. It had been a fabulous dispay of blood to any of the nearby Orcs who had seen it. It turned out the Orc who had done it was the Warboss.

Eomer leapt up, pulled out his long sword in mid-air, and pulled off a spectacular down thrust on top of the Warboss. The sword went right through the Orc's helmet ans skull. A fabulous display of blood, bone and brains for the Elves to witness, as the Orcish Warboss' brains spewed out of his helmet and onto the ground, staining Eomer's sword.

"Da boss iz ded!" yelled a nearby goblin. The Orcs and Goblins turned and fled. The Elves had won this round, but at a high costÉ

 

PART 2-95%

Trek To Fort Galadriel

-Return Of The Orcs-

 

Eomer, the Elf General, was pleased with the fact that the Orcs and Goblins had fled, but saddened and horrified by the sickening death of his friend Fewin. He knew all too well that it was only a matter of hours before the Orcs and Goblins would regroup, choose a new warboss, and attack again with doubled ferocity.

Although the Elven troops were rejoicing, it would all soon end. Eomer had to think fast. Maybe if they reatreated to their nearest fort, they could get reinforcements, and have a defensive advantage with the fort. "Retreat to fort Galadriel!!" he cried. "Bring all the wounded with you!". The Elves quickly obeyed. Fort Galadriel was an hour's walk away. The fort was named for the first lady, the first Elven Queen ever. She had died long ago, but her memory was still burning strongly. Galadriel was a beautiful castle made of white stone with a hint of yellow. Green roofs topped the many tall towers. Gems were encrusted above doorways and windows. But as Eomer came closer, he realised the castle was not the same.

The walls were stained black by fire, oil, and blood. The green roofs had been burnt and torn, and the beautiful gems that had decorated the doorways and windows had been ripped from their places in the walls.

"What in Asuryan's name has happened here?" questioned Eomer. The Elves hustled towards Galadriel in attack formation and with ferocity. When they had arrived however, the force that had done this had long since departed. It had definitely been an Orcish attack. The few bodies of the Orcs that had been slain by the ill prepared Elves were in a heap, on fire. A standard Orc death ritual. "Spread out and search for any remaining resistance!" yelled Eomer to his Elvish followers. Just as he said this, it seemed the ground had gotten up and started running at them from outside the fort! DAMMIT! The Orcs had laid a trap for them!! And now, even if the Orcs' attack failed, the survivors could wait the Elves out, or the Elves could remain within, and starveÉ

"How could the Orcs have devised such a clever plan? They couldn't haveÉ" thought Eomer as a mass of Orcs ran at Galadriel throwing off heaps of grass and branches from their backs. How foolish of them not to notice all the Orcs as they walked right over them.

Eomer used his keen Elvish eyesight to look for a commander or leader of some other race within the Orcish hordes. A commander of a race evil enough and intelligent enough to devise this scheme. Then he saw IT. A greater Daemon. A greater Daemon of Tzeentch.

"May Asuryan have mercy on our soulsÉfor the Orcs have allied themselves with living nightmares; Daemons from the icy northern wastes!"

PART 3-95%

 

Frost

The team wandered through the arctic desert. Their huge fur coats were pulled tightly around them, made from the warm skins of White Lions. They were Elves, from the land ofUlthuan, trekking through these barren wastes in search of a horde of Daemons of their way to Galadriel to attack the Elven war God Asuryan. It was the year 1234, and the world was a very differnet place. The Northern wastes were inhabited by warriors, previously human, warped by evil powers, the four evil Gods of Chaos. These monsters were known as Chaos Warriors.The Elves had always travelld the worldover for knowledge and artifacts. It was their nature.

"Oh my god! Asuryan help us, we are doomed!" yelled an Elf near the front of the line. The rest of the Elves crowded around to see what the problem was. Beneath the very ice they stood on were hundreds of frozen faces, paralyzed eyes piercing into the minds of the living Elves and making even the bravest among them shudder.

"I suppose the first expedition never made it" said Arandir, the Elf general in charge of the second expedition. Simply to keep the morale of his men high, he shouted " Fear not brothers! The foul Demons of Chaos will pay for thisÉthis slaughter!!!!" The Elves cheered in respect and admiration for their leader.

"PayyyÉsssÉpay? I beleivessÉ zat you ssssshallz payyÉss" Arandir turned around quick as lighting. There beside was a true Demon. They worse than the Chaos Warriors ten fold. These were the true evil, the nightmares of all the living. This one ressembled a giant hound, with spikes ripping through it's skin in all places, blood stained claws, and corrosive saliva dripping from it's mouth.

The High Elves took up defense position immediately. They knew they were out-numbered and trapped, but was their still a chance? Most of the Elves had a truly grim expression on their faces. It was the end for most, if not all of them. Arandir saw the problem and acted quickly.

"There is hope!! Fight bravely brothers and know that Asuryan be with you!!!!"

Arandir whipped out his bow and pulled an arrow from his quiver. He positioned the arrow and waited.

The lead Demon sprung forward towards Arandir. At the same moment he pointed his arrow directly between the eyes of the foul creature.

"Burn in Hell!!" he said, and let fly his arrow.

 

PART 4-90%

Battle At Fort Galadriel

 

The crowd reacted with maniacal fervour as the war heroes from the battle at Galadriel marched by, waving happily to them. There were so few left, thought Eomer. The daemons and Orcs had truly made a scar in the history of the Elves. How could they have possibly thought of such a plan? WellÉthat was for the Gods to know.

Eomer decided he may as well just sit back and enjoy the parade. The crowd was so ecstatic. They really did appreciate their heroes and Elders.

After all, the war had been won 2000 years ago to this day. Eomer was now just a frail old Elf. The 2000 year anniversary of the war and the festival thrown in honour of the Elvish heroes was quite an event. But, even in the middle of all the festivities, he couldn't bear it. His heart slowly stopped, and then just as he was going to die it started again. Eomer fell to the ground, and as he closed his eyes, the last thing he saw was Fewin's daughter asking him if he was alright. Everything went dark, then his mind went back to that horrible day, and all the terrible things he had seen. He would now have to literally relive the battle at fort Galadriel that had truned into a war of epic proportions.

"May Asuryan have mercy on our soulsÉfor the Orcs have allied themselves with living nightmares; Daemons from the icy northern wastes!" he recalled saying. But then he was no longer recalling, he was reliving. "Archers, archers! Get the hell off the ramparts or you're as good as dead!! NOW!!" His troops quickly obeyed but not quickly enough. Giant winged Daemons, Bloodthirsters, swooped down and ripped the Elves to pieces. They landed amidst them in the fort and began their carnage. But the Elves knew where the flying Daemons were vulnerable. On their underbellies. Brave Elves ducked under the raging beasts and thrust their swords upwards, spewing acidic blood on to the ground. Eomer watched as the blood came down and melted the arm off one of his soldiers. "Be careful, dammit!!" He realised that for every Daemon they killed, there was a chance the acidic blood would kill them. Even in death the Daemons caused pain and suffering.

How could he defeat an army so immense, and so fierce. The two most war-like races in the world had teamed up against the most noble, and the race with the fewest numbers. All seemed lost. But he was determined to take down as many Orcs and Daemons as possible when he died, and without a miracle from Asuryan, they would all surely be dead in minutes.

Then, an event took place that change a small battle into a full fledged war that would go down in Elvish history as one of the greatest moments for the Elves of all time.

A great light shone accross the battlefield, paralyzing all who beheld it. As the light came closer it became an orb that slowly floated down to the ground. Just as it touched the ground, there was a bright flash. Where the orb had been, there stood a mighty warrior, 10 feet tall, with a gigantic steel blade forged in the heavens, a god incarnate, the saviour of the ElvesÉAsuryan.

PART 5-85%

War At Fort Galadriel

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. All out war was about to begin. When the Orcs had received word of a God to battle, their war-like instincts would kick in, and they would send thousands of soldiers to battle Asuryan.

The Daemons were in the same situation. In fact, they had already received word of Asuryan's coming through telepathic communication. At this moment they were trekking through the barren northern wastes that were their home, and an ensemble of Elves had been sent to stop them.

The Orcs swarmed over the castle walls, as the flying Daemons swooped down and slice the heads off those foolish enough to stay on the walls.

And who knew what other forces had caught wind of this massive scale battle? Who else had massive armies on the move to capture these powers that were beyond comprehension? The Elves would just have to wait and seeÉ

And now, Galadriel, what was once just a small town there only to provide homes and food for the soldiers of the fort, was about to become the focal point for the greatest war the world ever seen!! And Eomer was there to lead the ElvesÉ

My Drawing of Eomer, the great Elf general

Asuryan swept his sword back and forth through the legions of Daemons and Orcs, killing thousands. But then, a challenge was called. No longer would Asuryan rampage through the ranks of Orcs and Daemons, but now it was time for the battles of kings. Now, the Daemon lords wopuld provide Asuryan with a worthy foe. The Daemon and Orc lords lined up, eager for a chance to battle the great God Asuryan.

No one had known what had drew Asuryan to this world. Perhaps the pleas of the Elven mages in the towers of Galadriel castle, or maybe the God had decided that he had seen enough of his folk die for one day. Either way, most were not thinking of where he had come from, but where he was going. And now he was going to face his first opponent. The first duel was about to begin.

The duel was between Asuryan and Tzeentch, a greater Daemon. Tzeentch ranked among the mightiest of the Daemon warriors, and he was feared throughout the mortal plain. As Tzeentch approached, he attacked without warning, his claws slicing a gaping hole in Asuryan's left arm. Standard Daemon treachery. This was no duel, it was a bloody, honourless fight. However, Asuryan seemed only to budge slightly, whereas a normal Elf would have reeled from the pain. And then, with what seemed like no movement at all, his sword whizzed all around the Daemon Tzeentch. All that could be seen of it was a bright green light which seemed to follow the path the sword had taken seconds ago. Tzeentch laughed out loud at Asuryan's poor aim. To miss at such close range was a mockery. The other Daemons and Orcs soon joined in, laughing heartily until pieces of Tzeentch began to fall off. He screamed and roared, but in a few seconds he was nothing but slices on the ground. One of the small Daemons kept on laughing, but his skull was bashed in by a larger Daemon. The Orcs and Daemons stood and stared in awe as one of their greatest was turned into slices.

 

And then, Asuryan spoke his first words: "Who's next?"

 

But the battle was far fro won. And the Elves could see this as the next opponent stepped up. The most terrible kind of Daemon of all; A Blood Thirster.

 

PART 6-80%

The Final Battle

The duels went on for quite some time, long after the Blood Thirster suffered a fate similar to that of the Daemon of Tzeentch. But Asuryan had ripped out the eyes of the Blood Thirster and thrown them into the hordes of Daemons, saying that the Blood Thirster would then watch them die and lose and be ashamed. It did an excellent job of discouraging thew onlooking Daemons and Orcs. However, the Daemons were no longer any match for Asuryan. He had killed all the large and truly powerful Daemons. Asuryan was very weary and badly wounded. To the great dissapointment of the Elves, he seemed to disintegrate into nothing and then once again became the ball of glowing yellow light he had been when he had arrived. The ball of light slowly rose into the sky until it was no longer able to be seen, even by the keen eyes of the Elves.

There was to be no more help for the Elves. Now they were on their own. More Daemons came up over the hills in the distance;from the North. Obviously the Elven expedition to the North had been killed or lost in the cold, snow and ice. There would be no help from them either. At that point, a great battle began. The Orc and Daemon forces clashed head on with the Elves. The two armies smashed into each other with tremendous force sending members of the opposing forces far into the enemy ranks. It was just a huge mess, with no startegic planning or advantage on either side.

"Kill them! Kill them all!!" yelled Eomer as he led the Elven army forward to their deaths. He was at the front of the charge. Daemons cried out as they were sliced open and their purplish-grey blood spilled all over the battlefields. The Orcs roared as the sleek Elven swords cut cleanly through their makeshift armour cutting off their legs and arms, and things much worse. The Elves screamed as their legs, arms and other body parts were ripped or bitten off. That was the thingsÉthe Orcs' swords were so crude that they dug into the flesh and then the Orcs would actually have to rip off the whole leg or whatever to get them out. And the Daemons just used their claws and teeth to fight. Only the great Daemon lords used swords.

All Hell broke loose. The Elves had killed many, but most of their forces had been killed or had pieces ripped off of them, thus disabling them. The dead were the lucky ones. The injured would be swarmed over by the Orcs and Daemons and sliced and bitten until they died. The last 25 Elves formed a small circle and prepared to fight to the last, bravely, with honour, and taking as many of the Orcish and Daemon bastards with them as they could. The Orcs and Daemons approached, and the ones that got too close felt the sting of Elven blades. "At least we will die with honour" said an Elf near to Eomer. But then, little worker Goblins emerged from nowhere and through a huge weighted net over the Elves that remained. Quickly others approached and grabbed away the weapons and shields that the Elves had. Some of the Elves tried to escape but they were killed, died in trap as Orcs and Daemons laughed at their pathetic antics. Eomer looked at his troops. He seemed to be the only real warrior. The rest were young, new recruits. Eomer gasped as he realised that there was a young female warrior among them as well. It wasn't that females were rare in the Elven armies, just not very common. The vast majority of soldiers were still male. But it wasn't the fact either that Eomer did not know there was a woman in his army, it was the fact that the Orcs would soon know as well.

The Orcs were now walking down the side of the net, looking at their captives. Eomer crawled over to the female soldier. "What is your name, soldier" he whispered. She looked at the markings and saluted, whispering back " Sir, Private Eowyn Mithril, Sir"

"Eowyn, listen to me. Take this dagger. You must kill yourself now or the Orcs will do terrible things to you. Please, trust me." He said as he removed a small dagger from under his pant leg. "No, I couldn't possibly take my own life" she said. "That's a direct order, Private!" Eomer immediately realised his mistake at raising his voice. The Orcs started mumbling at yelling at each other. "Whatz da' ruckus over 'ere!!???" yelled an Orc who appeared to be a slave driver. "AhhhÉ a female, eh? Good for uz, bad for her. Ha ha ha hee heÉ!!" He lifted the net and grabbed Eowyn. He ripped off her armour, then stripped off her clothes after beating her and slapping her a bit. "Take dis' one ov for rapin'!!" he said, laughing again. "You wart faced bastard! Leave her alone you son of a bitch! You fucking bastard!!!!" Eomer yelled at the top of his lungs.

The slave driver came around to where Eomer was. "Here's da punishment. Becuz whoseever said thatz, wez iz gonna kill yer leada!!. Whos' ya leada??" Just as Eomer was about to present himself and take the cruelk tortures they were sure to give, one of his privates stood up and said "I am Eomer, Elven general. If you are to blame the Elven leader, you must blame me, and no other." A large Orc grabbed him, found a nearby tree that was in the right shape, then broke branches off and crusified the young Elf with branches from the tree. He screamed and yelled as blood poured from his hands. The Orc then took two more branches and drove them through his feet.

More Orcs crowded around and that young Elf was never seen again. Just as it seemed that there was no hope left, Eomer heard the sound of loud mountain horns. Theforces of Evil were not the only ones who had heard of a God that had appeared on Andilles Plain at fort Galadriel. A gigantic horde of Dwarfs rushed over nearby hills yelling battle cries at their grudged enemies, the Orcs. The Dwarfs were a ray of hope from the West. And then from the East came the Eagles, a race of giant eagles with talons as sharp as an Elcven blade. They swooped down and distracted the Elves and Daemons as the Dwarfs surrounded them and cut them down.

Eomer and the other Elves worked together to remove the net, but they were caught in the middle of a battle, and with no weapons. Most of the Elves were cut down. All except Eomer had been caught in the crossfire of arrows, or decapitated by a swinging sword. Eomer grabbed a knife from a fallen comrade and began crawling to the tree where the young Elf was crusified. As he arrived, he saw that the Elf was still alive, and that Eowyn was lying there naked on the ground. "I will kill us all so that we will suffer no longer!" First he drove the knife through the crusified Elf's heart, as he said "thank you, sir." He proceeded to kill Eowyn, who was in brutal pain from the extensive and brutal Orcish beatings she had received in the past few minutes. He then kneeled and was about to thrust the knife through his own heart when he was knocked unconsciousby an Orc club as the Orc passed by.

When Eomer awoke, the battle was over. Eowyn was still lying dead beside him, and the young Elf was still stuck to the tree. He got up and was quickly helped away by Dwarfish aids, and by newly arrived Elven reinforcements.

The rest of his life he lived with the shame. He had been such a coward. To take one's own life would be to damn thyself eternaly. Eomer was glad he had been stopped. He suddenly snapped back to the present. He was still lying on the ground in the middle of the parade. The parade had stopped, and he was lying on the ground. He could hear, but he could not speak. He heard his friends, children grand-children and other relatives begging him to be alright and to wake up. But it was not to be. He heard his heart slowly, ever so slowly stopping, until all went black.

 

THE END

 

Story stats

Pages: 9 on original computer document

Characters: 21286

Words: 3902

Lines: 334

These stats do not include Part 3, Frost, because it was added later

Part 3, "Frost", was not in the original story. I wrote it seperately and then integrated it into the plotline of the War of the Elves

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