*backup* Fall of Gondor

[Bob Sakamano]

hopefully i'll finish this some day

THE FALL OF GONDOR

CHAPTER 1

Roguegast dismounted from his horse and his green wool hood back atop his head. Night had fallen quickly over the desolate lands of Minas Tirith, and the stars lay choked in a sea of darkness. As he approached the gateman, Rogue bowed his head. The gateman eyed Rogue over suspiciously, and then motioned to his comrade atop the gate to open it.

With a loud creak, the gate opened just enough for Roguegast to enter. “Hold my steed in the stable and you shall be rewarded,” Rogue said as he turned his back to the gateman and started walking up the city interior. Rogue was on a mission to see King Aragorn. The war of the ring had long been over, and the elves had forsaken the lands of Middle Earth. For neigh twenty years, the lands had lain peaceful in the hands of the returned king.

Ever since King Aragorn celebrated his 103rd birthday, darkness had once again crept over the lands of Gondor. Roguegast could feel the darkness slowly consuming in the North, so he decided to investigate for himself.

“Welcome, good sir Rogue, to my city,” Aragorn said, showing no surprise in seeing the last known istari left in the land.

“Good evening, sir. I come to you with urgent counsel.” Rogue said.

“The King shall hear no counsel. It is my time of slumber. Leave me.”

“My lord, in all do respect, the times are once again dark. You must hear me out.”

Aragorn rolled his eyes. <i>What devilry?<i> Rogue thought. Roguegast had last seen Aragorn twenty years ago to the day. They both lived together in Rivendell, and they had always been friends.

Aragorn waved his hands at his the two muscular guards at his side. They drew their swords and approached Roguegast, who stood with his eyes wide open. As the guards came within arm length, Roguegast quickly pulled his mighty dwarf axe Khazablu from his hipsack, and with one horizontal slash, felled both guards. They fell to the ground and clutched their sides in pain. Roguegast kicked their swords across the room and approached Aragorn.

“You will listen to me. Sleep comes later.”

“What is it that you wish from me?” Aragorn asked with sleepy eyes.

“A darkness moves in the South. I have felt it for many years now.”

“And?” Aragorn cut in.

“And…I need your help. I fear it may be a resurgence of Sauron in the East. I request from you your alliance with Rivendell, along with 500 of your best warriors to root out this evil from our lands.”

“You are crazy! Insane!” Aragorn chuckled, standing up. “Not only do I reject your request,” Aragorn drew his long, shiny sword Anduril from his sheath, “You bring unneeded war to my lands. You are henceforth banned from my lands.”

Roguegast stared at Aragorn. Was he serious? For a moment, Roguegast thought about fighting Aragorn, but he decided it was not the time for another King of Numenor to fall. With one last glance, Roguegast exited in silence.

CHAPTER 2

Roguegast exited the halls and approached the white tree outside Aragorn’s halls. It was in blossom. A guard under the tree walked up to Rogue and broke the silence.

“Tough night? King Aragorn has been cruel to all of his visitors.”

“Really? When has this started?”

“Ah, nearly two years ago. I remember it like it was yesterday. Late one night, a fat man visited the King. They spoke until dawn, and when the fat man rode off, Aragorn ordered a new law, Executive Order 12, if I recall.”

“What?” Rogue asked.

“T’was the worst law in Gondor’s history, if you ask me. Caused quite a stir, too. Essentially opened Gondor’s trade borders to the orcs and foul beasts of the East.”

“He did what?!” Aragorn had always been a progressive leader…but friends with Mordor? Something wasn’t right. Roguegast drew his axe, and glanced at the guards around him. Could they be in on a conspiracy?

“You know too much. Who are you?”

“My name is Myth, the Dragon Lover, son of Arhelm. I hear all that enters Lord Aragorn’s halls.”

“What you know may kill you. You are not safe here.”

Myth dropped his spear in fear. “What dost you mean? If they knew, I’d be dead.”

“Or do they? Look around, good sir.”

Myth looked around, and looked horrifically as every other guard on the seventh level of Minas Tirith had formed a weak circle around them.

“Grab your spear and come with me. Make for the stables, outside the gate,” Rogue said, suddenly raising his green wizard staff. A bright and intensely hot emerald flame emitted from the staff and crashed into the White Tree, having it explode into flames. Roguegast and Myth ran quickly out, down the stairs, and to the stables.

CHAPTER 3

“Open the gate, you fool” Rogue roared to the gateman.

The gateman scowled as he cranked the old gate open. Roguegast and Myth hurried as quickly as possible out the gate, and toward the stables.

“Where shall we go now?!” Myth huffed to Rogue, who was clutching his side.

“We will head Southward, to Dol Amroth. Your tidings may be right. I fear the worst for your King. Fingolfin, son of Imrahil, shall give us better insight into the King’s condition.”

Myth accepted unquestionably, as he had no other choice. They jumped atop two horses, and began to ride out, southward. Myth glanced sullenly towards the city. In the heat of the moment, he had forgotten to say goodbye to his wife, Bethany. No way to convey his love for her, Myth sighed and continued down the road behind Rogue.

CHAPTER 4

Myth and Roguegast arrived at the outskirts of Dol Amroth late afternoon the next day. They were both immensely tired and sore, though they said nothing, as they had a strange feeling that they were being watched.

They approached Fingolfin’s grand quarters, and asked for entry. Roguegast had never been to Dol Amroth, and he did not know any of the guards. He decided a bribery was in order, and he flipped a small silver coin to the guard on his left. The man reluctantly allowed the two for entry.

Rogue bowed low to Fingolfin. His quarters were much more sensible than Aragorn’s, as they were made from birchwood instead of granite and marble.

“Welcome, my lord Roguegast! Long have I desired to see you with my eyes!” Fingolfin said, meeting Rogue’s bow with a lower one. “And who is your comrade?”

“I am Myth, the Dragon Lover, guard of Minas Tirith,” Myth said.

“A Dragon Lover? I haven’t seen one of you sin-..”

“Ahem” Myth cleared his throat

“We are here because we fear the prospect of war,” Rogue said.

“War?!”

“Indeed. Aragorn has either become senile, or has turned evil. Have you heard of Executive Order something or other?”

Fingolfin grew dark. “Indeed I have. We will have no part of it, though.”

Rogue was happy to hear this. “What shall we do?”

“This is no senility. I hear Aragorn has relations with strange folk.”

“Aye” Myth cut in. “Ever since the death of Lady Arwen.” His voice fell for a moment, “He hasn’t been well. Strange people have come and gone from his halls, all of them in the deep of the night. They are plotting something.”

“Then it is as I feared,” Fingolfin said. “I never thought I’d see the day when a great king of Numenor fell to evil.”

Rogue pressed, “Then what shall we do? Nobody will believe such a call against the king. We barely escaped the guards ourselves.”

Myth shifted uneasily, as if he was holding himself back.

“I know not. But count your blessings, my new friends. You have friends here in Dol Amroth.”

Roguegast nodded, and then bid farewell to Fingolfin. He and Myth exited the room, and walked toward the city inn, where they would eat, rest and plan.

CHAPTER 5

At that same moment, hundreds of miles to the North, the same fat mysterious fat man made his way on horseback to the highest tower of Minas Tirith. He remained heavily cloaked, so one could not see him if they stared into his face. He entered Aragorn’s quarters and bowed his head to him.

“My lord, after all this waiting, I feel as if we’re ready.”

“Excellent,” said Aragorn. “You have served me well, Fluffhead, son of Harpua. How do our forces look?”

“Never better,” Fluffhead responded, bowing once again to show his respect. “Gondor’s eyes are always affixed to Mordor, but they do not expect an attack within.”

“But we need forces! What are our numbers?” Aragorn pressed.

“My lord, no need to worry. We have hundreds of legions of orcs ready at your command, and thousands more to come in the coming days. This is not a problem.”

“Aye”

Fluffhead’s eyes fell for a moment, and then he asked, “My lord, you have always been in good rapport with your subjects. I’ve always wondered: Why do you wish to destroy them?”

Aragorn stared at the ground for an awkward moment, and then stood up. “Two years ago, my love and wife, Arwen, died. It was then that I realized I don’t have long to live. Every other King and Steward before me has a legend to tell…but what is mine? The Ring? That was Frodo’s doing. When I die, I shall become nothing, save for a rotting corpse.” Aragorn’s voice began to get shaky and high-pitched. “I will be remembered for something. In a few days, I will be the most powerful man in Middle Earth. All will bow before the First Alliance of Men and Orcs.”

Fluffhead wiped a tear from his eye as he removed his hood. “Bravo,” he said. “And we shall reap our rewards. For now, let us take babysteps. You know the plan, yes?”

“Indeed I do”

“Then my job is done. We will meet again shortly. Until then, keep your sword close. I fear if anyone will stop us, now will be the time that they step frm the shadows.”

“Aye,” Aragorn said, suddenly remembering Roguegast’s intrusion last night. “Farewell”.

Fluffhead exited the quarters, and rode off towards the Eastern horizon.

CHAPTER 6

Myth plucked at a piece of chicken on his plate, but he did not appear to be hungry. Rogue took note of how uneasy Myth appeared. “So tell me about yourself, young Myth.”

“Well, not much to tell. I was born in Osgiliath, but I lived my entire life inside the walls of my King. In fact, this is the first time I have set foot outside Minas Tirith.”

Rogue was taken aback. The world had changed much since he left his comfortable house in Gondolin. Those times seemed to be all but a dream. “Have you any family?”

“Not yet,” said Myth. “But I recently married the love of my life, Bethany.” Myth said his wife’s name with great sadness.

Roguegast felt uneasy devling into this discussion, so he stood up and began pacing around the dark room. “Indeed, my good sir. I’m sorry to have pulled you away from your wife. If what we’re gathering is true, neither you nor her would have lasted the night.”

Myth put his hand to his heart and looked at the ground. The prospect of losing Bethany almost brought Myth to tears. Rogue put his hand around Myth’s shoulders. “Do not worry; there is good chance that our worries may not amount to anything.”

Myth didn’t appear very comforted by Rogue’s advice.

“Now, back to business,” Roguegast said. “We have no hope but to remove the king from power.”

Myth looked horrified.

“I wish for him to live as much as anybody, but you must keep in mind that he has been influenced by Evil. One does not look Eastward for trade.”

“So what do you suggest we do?”

“I sense they already know of us; we will not be allowed back into Minas Tirith. We must stay hidden until more men agree with our cause.”

Myth shook his head, “No, my lord, we must take action. Gondor can be saved. It is my duty as guard of the citadel to protect it.”

“What do you suggest we do, then?”

Myth stared for a moment at Rogue, as if judging him. “It’s a trap; If we show up to Minas Tirith with an army, they will return it with a bigger one. Think about it – they’re allied with the East! For all we know, they Aragorn and his friends could have an army of fellbeasts on call.”

“Wise counsel you have, young man,” Rogue said. “I believe you may be on to something.”

“Aye. Strength in cunning, not in numbers, will get us to the bottom of this problem.”

“Then it is settled. Our business in Dol Amroth is complete. Catch some sleep. We will ride early to Linhir, a small village beside the Gilrain River. It is there that we will find mercenaries to help us in our quest.”

Myth nodded his head in agreement, though he evaded eye contact with Rogue. He took a small bite out of the cold drumstick, and then tossed it aside. He could not remember the last time he closed his eyes, and now felt like a perfect time.

THE FALL OF GONDOR

CHAPTER 1

Roguegast dismounted from his horse and his green wool hood back atop his head. Night had fallen quickly over the desolate lands of Minas Tirith, and the stars lay choked in a sea of darkness. As he approached the gateman, Rogue bowed his head. The gateman eyed Rogue over suspiciously, and then motioned to his comrade atop the gate to open it.

With a loud creak, the gate opened just enough for Roguegast to enter. “Hold my steed in the stable and you shall be rewarded,” Rogue said as he turned his back to the gateman and started walking up the city interior. Rogue was on a mission to see King Aragorn. The war of the ring had long been over, and the elves had forsaken the lands of Middle Earth. For neigh twenty years, the lands had lain peaceful in the hands of the returned king.

Ever since King Aragorn celebrated his 103rd birthday, darkness had once again crept over the lands of Gondor. Roguegast could feel the darkness slowly consuming in the North, so he decided to investigate for himself.

“Welcome, good sir Rogue, to my city,” Aragorn said, showing no surprise in seeing the last known istari left in the land.

“Good evening, sir. I come to you with urgent counsel.” Rogue said.

“The King shall hear no counsel. It is my time of slumber. Leave me.”

“My lord, in all do respect, the times are once again dark. You must hear me out.”

Aragorn rolled his eyes. <i>What devilry?<i> Rogue thought. Roguegast had last seen Aragorn twenty years ago to the day. They both lived together in Rivendell, and they had always been friends.

Aragorn waved his hands at his the two muscular guards at his side. They drew their swords and approached Roguegast, who stood with his eyes wide open. As the guards came within arm length, Roguegast quickly pulled his mighty dwarf axe Khazablu from his hipsack, and with one horizontal slash, felled both guards. They fell to the ground and clutched their sides in pain. Roguegast kicked their swords across the room and approached Aragorn.

“You will listen to me. Sleep comes later.”

“What is it that you wish from me?” Aragorn asked with sleepy eyes.

“A darkness moves in the South. I have felt it for many years now.”

“And?” Aragorn cut in.

“And…I need your help. I fear it may be a resurgence of Sauron in the East. I request from you your alliance with Rivendell, along with 500 of your best warriors to root out this evil from our lands.”

“You are crazy! Insane!” Aragorn chuckled, standing up. “Not only do I reject your request,” Aragorn drew his long, shiny sword Anduril from his sheath, “You bring unneeded war to my lands. You are henceforth banned from my lands.”

Roguegast stared at Aragorn. Was he serious? For a moment, Roguegast thought about fighting Aragorn, but he decided it was not the time for another King of Numenor to fall. With one last glance, Roguegast exited in silence.

CHAPTER 2

Roguegast exited the halls and approached the white tree outside Aragorn’s halls. It was in blossom. A guard under the tree walked up to Rogue and broke the silence.

“Tough night? King Aragorn has been cruel to all of his visitors.”

“Really? When has this started?”

“Ah, nearly two years ago. I remember it like it was yesterday. Late one night, a fat man visited the King. They spoke until dawn, and when the fat man rode off, Aragorn ordered a new law, Executive Order 12, if I recall.”

“What?” Rogue asked.

“T’was the worst law in Gondor’s history, if you ask me. Caused quite a stir, too. Essentially opened Gondor’s trade borders to the orcs and foul beasts of the East.”

“He did what?!” Aragorn had always been a progressive leader…but friends with Mordor? Something wasn’t right. Roguegast drew his axe, and glanced at the guards around him. Could they be in on a conspiracy?

“You know too much. Who are you?”

“My name is Myth, the Dragon Lover, son of Arhelm. I hear all that enters Lord Aragorn’s halls.”

“What you know may kill you. You are not safe here.”

Myth dropped his spear in fear. “What dost you mean? If they knew, I’d be dead.”

“Or do they? Look around, good sir.”

Myth looked around, and looked horrifically as every other guard on the seventh level of Minas Tirith had formed a weak circle around them.

“Grab your spear and come with me. Make for the stables, outside the gate,” Rogue said, suddenly raising his green wizard staff. A bright and intensely hot emerald flame emitted from the staff and crashed into the White Tree, having it explode into flames. Roguegast and Myth ran quickly out, down the stairs, and to the stables.

CHAPTER 3

“Open the gate, you fool” Rogue roared to the gateman.

The gateman scowled as he cranked the old gate open. Roguegast and Myth hurried as quickly as possible out the gate, and toward the stables.

“Where shall we go now?!” Myth huffed to Rogue, who was clutching his side.

“We will head Southward, to Dol Amroth. Your tidings may be right. I fear the worst for your King. Fingolfin, son of Imrahil, shall give us better insight into the King’s condition.”

Myth accepted unquestionably, as he had no other choice. They jumped atop two horses, and began to ride out, southward. Myth glanced sullenly towards the city. In the heat of the moment, he had forgotten to say goodbye to his wife, Bethany. No way to convey his love for her, Myth sighed and continued down the road behind Rogue.

CHAPTER 4

Myth and Roguegast arrived at the outskirts of Dol Amroth late afternoon the next day. They were both immensely tired and sore, though they said nothing, as they had a strange feeling that they were being watched.

They approached Fingolfin’s grand quarters, and asked for entry. Roguegast had never been to Dol Amroth, and he did not know any of the guards. He decided a bribery was in order, and he flipped a small silver coin to the guard on his left. The man reluctantly allowed the two for entry.

Rogue bowed low to Fingolfin. His quarters were much more sensible than Aragorn’s, as they were made from birchwood instead of granite and marble.

“Welcome, my lord Roguegast! Long have I desired to see you with my eyes!” Fingolfin said, meeting Rogue’s bow with a lower one. “And who is your comrade?”

“I am Myth, the Dragon Lover, guard of Minas Tirith,” Myth said.

“A Dragon Lover? I haven’t seen one of you sin-..”

“Ahem” Myth cleared his throat

“We are here because we fear the prospect of war,” Rogue said.

“War?!”

“Indeed. Aragorn has either become senile, or has turned evil. Have you heard of Executive Order something or other?”

Fingolfin grew dark. “Indeed I have. We will have no part of it, though.”

Rogue was happy to hear this. “What shall we do?”

“This is no senility. I hear Aragorn has relations with strange folk.”

“Aye” Myth cut in. “Ever since the death of Lady Arwen.” His voice fell for a moment, “He hasn’t been well. Strange people have come and gone from his halls, all of them in the deep of the night. They are plotting something.”

“Then it is as I feared,” Fingolfin said. “I never thought I’d see the day when a great king of Numenor fell to evil.”

Rogue pressed, “Then what shall we do? Nobody will believe such a call against the king. We barely escaped the guards ourselves.”

Myth shifted uneasily, as if he was holding himself back.

“I know not. But count your blessings, my new friends. You have friends here in Dol Amroth.”

Roguegast nodded, and then bid farewell to Fingolfin. He and Myth exited the room, and walked toward the city inn, where they would eat, rest and plan.

CHAPTER 5

At that same moment, hundreds of miles to the North, the same fat mysterious fat man made his way on horseback to the highest tower of Minas Tirith. He remained heavily cloaked, so one could not see him if they stared into his face. He entered Aragorn’s quarters and bowed his head to him.

“My lord, after all this waiting, I feel as if we’re ready.”

“Excellent,” said Aragorn. “You have served me well, Fluffhead, son of Harpua. How do our forces look?”

“Never better,” Fluffhead responded, bowing once again to show his respect. “Gondor’s eyes are always affixed to Mordor, but they do not expect an attack within.”

“But we need forces! What are our numbers?” Aragorn pressed.

“My lord, no need to worry. We have hundreds of legions of orcs ready at your command, and thousands more to come in the coming days. This is not a problem.”

“Aye”

Fluffhead’s eyes fell for a moment, and then he asked, “My lord, you have always been in good rapport with your subjects. I’ve always wondered: Why do you wish to destroy them?”

Aragorn stared at the ground for an awkward moment, and then stood up. “Two years ago, my love and wife, Arwen, died. It was then that I realized I don’t have long to live. Every other King and Steward before me has a legend to tell…but what is mine? The Ring? That was Frodo’s doing. When I die, I shall become nothing, save for a rotting corpse.” Aragorn’s voice began to get shaky and high-pitched. “I will be remembered for something. In a few days, I will be the most powerful man in Middle Earth. All will bow before the First Alliance of Men and Orcs.”

Fluffhead wiped a tear from his eye as he removed his hood. “Bravo,” he said. “And we shall reap our rewards. For now, let us take babysteps. You know the plan, yes?”

“Indeed I do”

“Then my job is done. We will meet again shortly. Until then, keep your sword close. I fear if anyone will stop us, now will be the time that they step frm the shadows.”

“Aye,” Aragorn said, suddenly remembering Roguegast’s intrusion last night. “Farewell”.

Fluffhead exited the quarters, and rode off towards the Eastern horizon.

[Bob Sakamano]

CHAPTER 6

Myth plucked at a piece of chicken on his plate, but he did not appear to be hungry. Rogue took note of how uneasy Myth appeared. “So tell me about yourself, young Myth.”

“Well, not much to tell. I was born in Osgiliath, but I lived my entire life inside the walls of my King. In fact, this is the first time I have set foot outside Minas Tirith.”

Rogue was taken aback. The world had changed much since he left his comfortable house in Gondolin. Those times seemed to be all but a dream. “Have you any family?”

“Not yet,” said Myth. “But I recently married the love of my life, Bethany.” Myth said his wife’s name with great sadness.

Roguegast felt uneasy devling into this discussion, so he stood up and began pacing around the dark room. “Indeed, my good sir. I’m sorry to have pulled you away from your wife. If what we’re gathering is true, neither you nor her would have lasted the night.”

Myth put his hand to his heart and looked at the ground. The prospect of losing Bethany almost brought Myth to tears. Rogue put his hand around Myth’s shoulders. “Do not worry; there is good chance that our worries may not amount to anything.”

Myth didn’t appear very comforted by Rogue’s advice.

“Now, back to business,” Roguegast said. “We have no hope but to remove the king from power.”

Myth looked horrified.

“I wish for him to live as much as anybody, but you must keep in mind that he has been influenced by Evil. One does not look Eastward for trade.”

“So what do you suggest we do?”

“I sense they already know of us; we will not be allowed back into Minas Tirith. We must stay hidden until more men agree with our cause.”

Myth shook his head, “No, my lord, we must take action. Gondor can be saved. It is my duty as guard of the citadel to protect it.”

“What do you suggest we do, then?”

Myth stared for a moment at Rogue, as if judging him. “It’s a trap; If we show up to Minas Tirith with an army, they will return it with a bigger one. Think about it – they’re allied with the East! For all we know, they Aragorn and his friends could have an army of fellbeasts on call.”

“Wise counsel you have, young man,” Rogue said. “I believe you may be on to something.”

“Aye. Strength in cunning, not in numbers, will get us to the bottom of this problem.”

“Then it is settled. Our business in Dol Amroth is complete. Catch some sleep. We will ride early to Linhir, a small village beside the Gilrain River. It is there that we will find mercenaries to help us in our quest.”

Myth nodded his head in agreement, though he evaded eye contact with Rogue. He took a small bite out of the cold drumstick, and then tossed it aside. He could not remember the last time he closed his eyes, and now felt like a perfect time.

CHAPTER 7

“Wake up!! Wake up!!” Rogue shook Myth furiously.

“What on earth?” Myth exclaimed, trying desperately to focus his sleepy eyes on Rogue’s head.

“A silent terror moves in the night. We must be on the move.” Roguegast turned his back to Myth and began packing.

Myth obviously had no idea what Roguegast was talking about.

Roguegast stopped packing and turned back toward Myth. This time he repeated the message more slowly. “I was awakened by a shrill scream. When I poked my head outside, my eyes met an enormous fellbeast. We must leave Dol Amroth immediately.”

“You mean we are being tracked?!” Myth screamed, suddenly delirious.

“Yes, you dim witted fool! Now get your belongings! We must leave! NOW!!” Roguegast spilled a jar of beans, shattering glass all over the wood cottage floor.

Less than five minutes later, the two were back on horseback, with Dol Amroth slowly disappearing into the dawn haze in the west. The two rode silently, and hooded in green cloaks, so as to blend in with the nearby brush as well as possible.

Myth suddenly broke the silence. “Rogue,” he said uneasily.

Silence.

“Rogue!”

“What?! Keep quiet, you fool!”

“We must change our course. We cannot venture within Linhir’s walls.”

Rogue looked over to Myth, who was evading Rogue’s eyes. “Why, good sir? We will be safe from any fellbeast within Gondor’s walls.”

“I er- I have something to tell you. There is a reason why I cannot venture outside the walls of the King’s city…” He stopped riding and looked at Rogue square in the eyes. “I was found to be a member of an illegal group, the Third Age Dragon Army.”

Rogue had never heard of such a group. “Why did Aragorn ban the group?”

“Simple,” Myth said, almost matter of factly. “We killed Arwen”.

Rogue was not expecting this answer. “You lie. She died of natural causes.”

“So you think. It was my father, Arhelm, leader of TADA, who poisoned Lady Arwen in her sleep.”

“Why do such a thing?” Rogue stammered, still taken aback by this preposterous information.

“We do not believe in elves ruling the cities of men. Elves live in their cities, and we live in ours. The Valar chose to separate the ancient Numenorians from their brethren, and we should do the same.” Myth drew his sword suddenly. “By TADA code, you should be dead with this sensitive information…but I sense that you may be more useful than I imagined.”

Rogue did not dare to draw Khazablu. “So what say you about our quest?”

“It is just as Admiral Raider expected. We must report our tidings to him immediately. He will be very happy to hear such news of the King.”

“Then it is settled,” Rogue said as he kicked the horse back into a trot.

“Turn around,” Myth said, his sword still pointed at Rogue’s heart. “Our path is to the North. To Osgiliath.”

Rogue sighed. <i>Perhaps it was indeed unwise to befriend a complete stranger</i>. “One last question. Can I still call you Myth?”

Myth sheathed his sword and gave a subtle smile, “My lord Roguegast: Where I come from, histories change, but names do not. Myth is my name.”

The two rode off towards the North, over the rugged terrain.

CHAPTER 8

The two travelers approached the still abandoned city of Osgiliath sticking near the river, to remain undetected by any Gondorians.

"There is a passage by the river to get into the Headquarters" said Myth quietly. Rogue just simply nodded his head still uncertain about these recent events.

The two men passed into Osgiliaths streets, and dismounted off their horses. Walking a distance towards the river a creeping darkness took over the alleys they stepped in.

"I don't like the feel of this..." whispered Rougegast.

"Aye, but be patient my old companion," assured Myth.

Out of the darkness swung two swords at each Roguegast and Myth, but stopped closely at their throats."Who dares to trespass into the territory of TADA!?" yelled one of the men.

"I am Myth! Guard of Minas Tirith, and son of Arhelm former leader of TADA!"

"Ah, yes. It has been awhile Son of Arhelm since you have visited us. But indeed the Admiral has been expecting you."

"Thank you, Dodo. You are a true comrade in our organization. Would you mind taking us to Admiral Raider?"

"Most certainly, follow me," The ranger Dodo looked up at the buildings and waved off what appeared four archers that have been aiming at the newcomers.

"This place seems friendly..." muttered Roguegast as the group trudged along.

CHAPTER 9

Roguegast stumbled into a pitch dark stone room. He turned back to glare at Dodo, who had forced him at sword point into the room. <i>What scum of Middle Earth have I joined?</i>, Rogue thought. Rogue could not even discern Myth’s face in the deep darkness of the room.

Suddenly, a sharp light emitted from a candle on the desk which sat in front of Rogue. The room exploded into color. Rogue suppressed a holler of surprise when he saw what adorned the walls: Maps, of every street of every major Gondorian city. On the wall straight ahead of the desk was pinned a number of painted pictures of various people, most notably King Aragorn in the center. To his right was a very plump, frowning bald man, and on his left was an interesting skeletal rendition of a beast.

Sitting at the desk sat a man who looked incredibly tattered. He stared silently eyeing Rogue, as if expecting him to pull a weapon. The jet black hair atop his head was long, and looked very greasy. There was a large scar which lay across his right cheek.

“Come, my good friend Roguegast, take a seat.” Said Admiral Raider.

Rogue took a seat at the nearest chair.

“Leave us,” Admiral Raider said to Dodo, who nodded and exited the room.

“It seems as if you have some very critical information for our organization. Care to share it?”

Myth nodded. “Indeed, my lord, I have uncovered very much information from King Aragorn. Information so strong that it could topple Gondor as we know it.”

“Excellent work, my good sir. Once again you have proved your worth to TADA.” Raider shot Roguegast a quick glance. “So tell me, Myth, what have you uncovered?”

“The Executive Order has set in. King Aragorn is now cornered. A dark traveler visits King Aragorn very frequently – almost weekly, and they speak for hours on end. They are undoubtedly planning something.” He paused. “In fact, I believe this dark traveler is now the eyes and ears of Gondor.”

“Tis as we expected,” Raider responded. He turned to his wall. “That man you speak of is none other than Harpua of the Fluffhead Clan. They are a very dark clan of men from the East. Our scouts have reported they are cannibalistic, and very territorial.”

“So he has poisoned Aragorn so?” Myth asked.

“Tis even worse. Aragorn knows exactly what is happening. I fear they are working as a team. Why else would the palace guards have attacked you?”

Myth nodded, as if his worst fear had come true. “Then we must destroy him before Gondor is brought to its feet.”

Roguegast, who had been observing the whole conversation up to this point, broke into the conversation, “With all do respect, who are you, and what grounds do you have in doing this?”

“My name is Admiral Raider, leader of the Third Age Dragon Army. We are a secret organization bent on restoring Gondor to its former glory.” When he sensed Rogue didn’t understand, he continued, “For thousands of years, the Numenorians flourished. As soon as they established relations with Sauron and the Elves, their line quickly became worsened. In short, we blame the Elves, Orcs, and Dwarves for the downfall of our people.”

Myth piped up, “Our last hit was Arwen, but we have been dormant for the past few years. Only after the new Executive Order did Admiral Raider smell something was up. As of now, we’re back in action to reclaim Gondor, before it falls into darkness.”

Roguegast wasn’t bought. “And what gives you the power to decide these moral questions?”

“We feel the will of Numenor behind us.”

Roguegast stood up to leave, but stopped suddenly when both Myth and Raider pulled their swords out.

“With your knowledge, you cannot live. You will follow us, or end your life now. Choose wisely”.

Rogue returned to his seat. “And what is your aim?”

Myth spoke up, trying to mediate, “Kill Aragorn and his two top servants, Vazor, lord of orcs, and Harpua of the Fluffheads.”

“And who shall rule Gondor?”

“Admiral Raider, of course.”

Rogue almost began snickering. <i>A coup? Suddenly this whole ploy seemed false</i>

Raider spoke, “If I lead, Gondor will return to its highest times since Elendil and Isildur ruled the lands.” He continued, “We shall remain here and plan. For now, sleep.”

Admiral Raider abruptly stood up and walked out of the room.

Roguegast said nothing, wondering what kind of dark business he had stumbled upon.

CHAPTER 10

A mere three hours after laying down to sleep, Roguegast was once again shaken awake, but this time by a very hairy-handed individual. Rogue’s heart gave a small jump as he felt the cool hand touch his neck.

“What the devil? Who are you?”

The stranger recoiled, stepping backwards into the moonlight. “I am Salur, guard of TADA”.

Rogue blinked, trying to remember where exactly he was. “And why have you awoken me?”

Salur straightened. “TADA has begun its meeting. Very important business to be spoken of.” He motioned for Roguegast to follow him.

Roguegast stood up and followed Salur, who had quickly exited the small, dark room. They walked down a narrow stone corridor, and entered room on their left, about fifty paces from where Roguegast was sleeping. Salur bowed his head slightly to the door guard, and creaked open the door.

Rogue almost stumbled backward in the brilliant light that emitted from the room. Hundreds of candles lit up the very small room. All around the corners of the room sat about ten men, all of whom looked very taciturn. They all strangely carried longswords and arrows, as if protecting themselves. In fact, Rogue discovered he was the only one in the room who was unarmed.

The door closed and Raider began: “I call you to this meeting under dire circumstances. As you all know, we have devoted our lives to restoring Gondor’s majesty.” He paused. “We will soon achieve our goal.”

“Hear hear!” The twenty other men cheered.

“Myth has just informed me that our worries are real. The time to act is now.” Raider unfolded a map of Gondor in front of him. “Our plan is to strike quickly. We must destroy King Aragorn, and establish ourselves as the governors of the citadel.”

“Hear hear!” Again, the men cheered.

Raider’s eyes twinkled, as if he could not wait until the plan was done. “Myth, what news from the South?”

“Dol Amroth is in our hands. Master Fingolfin will rally to our cause.”

“Splendid. Vulcan, what news from Harad?” Raider asked, taking notes.

“Captain Heavy of the Metal Dragon Corsair Armada is on our side. He has pledged 400 of his finest soldiers to our cause.” Vulcan said, proud of his successful negotiations.

Raider chuckled, “Anything to spill Gondor blood, I suppose. And the North?”

There was a pause, “Two thousand Rohirrim horse warriors shall come to our aid, sire.”

Raider dropped his quill and looked toward a large, moustached man with brown hair. “Two thousand from Rohan, Hyper? You kid me, no?”

“Absolutely not. King Eomer has sensed Aragorn’s downfall for some time now. He has pledged his entire army to thwart a resurgence by the orcs.”

“And last but not least, what do the Rangers of Arnor give, comrade Pyropinkie?”

“A steady 1,000 Rangers,” Pyropinkie responded.

Raider appeared immensely pleased. He placed his quill down and looked at each of his comrades. “In the morning, we will execute our plan. Pyro, Vulcan, Hyper, and Myth, I ask for you to return to the places from which you came. In three days’ time, I expect the armies which you spoke of to arrive on the doorstep of Minas Tirith. We will charge and destroy.”

The respective TADA members bowed their heads. “And what of the wizard?” Vulcan asked.

An awkward moment passed where everybody in the room turned and stared at Roguegast.

“He will be at my side. I have a special duty for him.”

Roguegast was not content. “Speak of it. Do not leave me to wonder.”

Raider grinned. “Your task will be to personally destroy the King.”

Rogue sat speechless.

“Meeting adjourned,” Raider said, as everybody phiailed out.

[Bob Sakamano]

CHAPER 11

Roguegast walked slowly back to his room, but sleep was the last thing on his mind. <i>Destroy the king? I most definitely will not. There are always diplomatic means to achieve a goal.</i> He pinched himself slightly to make sure he was not dreaming. As he continued down the hollowed pathway, a warm hand touched his shoulder. Rogue turned and instantly recognized the face of Myth.

“What do you want with me?” Rogue said, a hint of anger in his voice.

“Our means may be evil, but our motive is clean,” Myth said. “We truly feel as if King Aragorn has wronged Numenor. He must be destroyed.”

“But that does not help any matters,” Rogue said. “The moment you kill the king, the fat man or the orc-lord you spoke of will assume power.”

“What do you mean?”

“You say that the fat man came from the East, as well as the orc-lord are close to the king. They undoubtedly have armies behind them. With no more king, I’m sure that they will vie for power.”

Myth shifted uneasily. “Admiral Raider has taken that into consideration. That is why we have conjured alliances across Middle Earth. They will come to our aid.”

“Do not underestimate the powers of the East,” Roguegast said glumly as he trudged into his dark room and shut it in Myth’s face.

CHAPTER 12

“Harpua! What a pleasure it is to see you again!” King Aragorn embraced Harpua with a large hug. “Why do you return so soon? Come, meet my closest friend and general, Lord Fingolfin of Dol Amroth!”

Harpua did not have arms long enough to return the hug. “Hello,” he said curtly. “I have heard much about you.”

“Is that so?” Fingolfin said. “Ironically, this is the first time we have met. We have much to speak of.”

The three of them stood in the middle of the courtyard, atop the seventh level of the city. King Aragorn had declared that the entire city ascend the top level of Minas Tirith and mourn the death of the famed White Tree. Aragorn was happy to see the entire city mourning the Tree.

“Stay quiet,” Aragorn shot to Harpua and Fingolfin. King Aragorn sauntered away and began talking with a woman in a large dress.

With Aragorn out of the way, Harpua could begin the interrogation. He turned to face Fingolfin, and grew a subtle sneer. “I have truly been waiting to meet you, good sir.”

“And I you, Harpua. We have very much to speak of. Come, let us go to Aragorn’s halls, where there is quiet.”

“Aye,” Harpua said. He turned and subtly began walking to the King’s halls. Fingolfin walked beside him, in a very hurried pace.

“Good sir, how close are we to completion?” Fingolfin asked.

Harpua sneered. “One day. By this time tomorrow, there will be twenty thousand orcs inside the walls of Minas Tirith. We will control all trade that goes in and out of the city.”

Fingolfin looked delighted.

Harpua continued, saliva dripping from his pudgy mouth, “The fate of Minas Tirith will lie on our mood.”

“Who can we count on?” Fingolfin said.

Harpua chuckled, as if this question was foolish. “As I said, we have twenty thousand orcs lead by none other than Vazor an—“

Fingolfin’s eyes widened. “<i>The Vazor? Perhaps this would be easier than I thought…</i>”

“Indeed. And as you agreed, you will supply two thousand of your finest warriors to our citadel.”

“Aye, I shall. As soon as I return to my city, I shall depart back here with a large army. Shall we expect for any rebels?”

“Very few. Anyway, the armies of Minas Tirith do not dare to second guess their king. Any rebellion will be foolish.”

“Um, have you heard of Roguegast the Green?”

Harpua thought deeply, and responded, “No, I have not. Is he from Gondor?”

“Heavens no. He’s an old wizard from the North. Rivendell, I believe.”

“What’re you getting at?”

“He and a guard from this city arrived on my doorstep a few days back. Apparently they suspect something. There have been spies.”

Harpua chuckled, and patted Fingolfin on the shoulder. “My friend, it will take more than two people to destroy our hopes. Think of the odds they are up against. In fact, I want them to come. My sword has gone too long without the stain of blood.”

Fingolfin seemed to feel much better. “Harpua, we will be kings. Under the triumvirate of the East, Mordor, and Gondor, nobody will dare harass us anymore.”

“Aye. And with peace comes riches. We will be the richest men in Middle Earth. Even the Valar would fear our nobility.”

“Then it is settled. I have no time for fun and games here. I must return to Dol Amroth at once. It will take many hours to arrive in my city, and return back here. Farewell, good sire.”

Harpua bowed back.

Fingolfin added: “And whence I return, may I be greeted with riches”.

Fingolfin turned and exited the chamber.

CHAPTER 13

Twenty miles away, Roguegast sat deathly still in his room, in the pitch black. Hundreds of thoughts blazed through Rogue’s mind as he tried to sift through the situation.

<i>Had Aragorn really been dealing with such horrible foes?</i>

“Of course not, they are the enemy…Aragorn knows that,” Roguegast said to himself.

<i>These people are about to kill the king! Something must be done…but what?</i>

“Somebody must be warned.”

<i>Who? Who shall listen?</i>

“The key question. Who is to be trusted?” A million names surged through Roguegast’s head. Who could he call to counsel in this hasty time of need?

Roguegast had trouble believing TADA’s message. Something had to be done. He had known Aragorn, and his father before that. Nobody in his blood could possibly have such evil aims. Besides, TADA was run by murderous curs. One would have to spend quite some time to find such dirty beasts. Somebody must be warned, sooner than later.

Roguegast covered his head with a green hood and grasped his mighty dwarvish axe Khazablu. He slowly opened his creaky wood door. His heart leapt when he came face-to-face with a blonde-haired man, almost the same height as him. He pulled his sword as soon as he saw Roguegast’s axe.

“And whur dur you goin’” he said.

“I am going for a walk, and you will let me pass.”

“Not on er mah wretch. Matrick durst nawt phail”

Roguegast had grown tired of the long-winded speech of Matrick. He quickly unleashed an upper cut with his axe, decapitating Matrick’s leg and half of his upper body along with it. Without a word, Matrick fell to the ground in a pool of blood. Roguegast glanced around to make sure nobody saw, and he pushed Matrick into his room. Rogue slung Khazablu back into his hipsack, and made his way to the stable.

Upon arriving to the stable, he recognized his usual brown horse. He embraced it, suddenly realizing it had been nearly three days since he last laid eyes upon her. Not wasting anymore time, he climbed upon her and began riding Southwest, back to Dol Amroth.

CHAPTER 14

“He what?!” Admiral Radier roared, hurling his desk on its side. “How dare he?”

Myth trembled. “What’s more, we suspect he killed Matrick, who had been watching over him.”

Admiral Raider stared at Myth, hoping that this was some joke. When he realized he was serious, Raider straightened up and said, “Let it be. Is he running to our enemies?”

“Most likely.”

“Damnation. We will maintain our current attack plan. Anyway, all we must do is kill the king. It shan’t be too hard.”

“Indeed, my lord. Shall we try to track him?”

“No. Doing that will reveal ourselves to our enemies. All we can do now is act.”

Myth sighed, unsure of the plan now. “Well, we will do our best.”

“Gather your men. We will ride into Minas Tirith today. In fact, gather everyone. The king must die, or Gondor shall fail.”

“At once, my liege,” Myth said, bowing and exiting the room.

Now alone, Raider thought to himself. <i>Alas, it was a horrid mistake telling Roguegast so much information. If he ran like a fool to the king, we would be forced back into hiding.</i>

“I will have his head before this quest is finished,” Raider said. He exited the room and pulled on a dark green elvish cloak. All of TADA were such cloaks by Aragorn upon his coronation. Silky and light, the cloaks protected TADA under the most extreme conditions.

About twenty TADAers had appeared at the outer Western stable of Osgiliath. All of them wore their cloaks and quickly readied for departure in complete silence. Climbing atop his black horse, Raider gave a silent nod to his right hand men Myth and Vulcan, and kicked his horse into a trot.

CHAPTER 15

Roguegast struggled to stay awake. After nearly two days upon his horse, his horse finall came to a halt. The day had turned to night, and moths fluttered about the night sky, contrasting with millions of twinkling stars overhead.

Rogue sighed and rubbed his eyes. As he once again looked at the southeast horizon, he came to a horrifying realization -- the stars were moving, quickly. It was then that he realized the stars were in fact a company of horsemen carrying torches. Roguegast kicked his horse into motion, and rode toward them.

As he approached, Rogue grabbed his staff and lit the tip of it ablaze. The emerald light shone brilliantly -- much brighter than any star in the sky, and caught the attention of a number of the horsemen. The leader called for them to halt, as he rode toward Rogue.

"Greetings, men. Who is your leader, and wherefore are you coming from?"

As the man came close to Rogue, he realized that it was Fingolfin, lord of Dol Amroth. Rogue let out a sigh of relief. "My lord, what brings you and so many men out this late at night?"

"War, my good friend," Fingolfin said. "In fact, a great bloodbath awaits us at Minas Tirith."

"You speak of TADA, do you not?"

"Yes and no. Strange happenings are afoot in the halls of the king, and I suggest you stay as far from them as possible."

"What of TADA?"

"What do you mean? They are of no worry to the king and his allies. He has known of them for quite a long time now."

"Known and done nothing?"

"The King likes keeping his enemies where he can see them." Fingolfin turned back to his troops, as if giving them the signal to prepare to ride once again.

"ANd you are headed to the White City?"

"Indeed we are. King Aragorn fears that his subjects will not take well to the new trade laws. We have been asked to ensure that the peace is kept."

"You have been hired to quell any attacks then," Roguegast said, cutting to the chase.

"There will be no attacks. No barbarian force has breached the walls since the time of Sauron. If anyone comes to cause trouble, their throat will be cut before they can exhale."

Roguegast looked about uneasily. Was this the same Fingolfin of a week ago? Strange happenings were definintely afoot. Roguegast was all ready to tell Fingolfin of TADA's plan when reason overcame him...there was no point; if TADA really meant to invade, they would be thwarted without a fight.

With one last glance, Fingolfin bowed his head low, repeated his earlier message to leave the region, and rejoined his army.

CHAPTER 16

Roguegast was not placated. In fact, what Fingolfin had said compounded his concern. What was Fingolfin doing with an army? Just last week, Fingolfin had spoken ill of the new law...now he was coming to uphold Aragorn's law? This did not sound right...

Fingolfin had just rejoined his army when Roguegast called out once again to him. Fingolfin impatiently called for his men to slow down and wait for Rogue. As Rogue approached Fingolfin, he once again said, "My liege, with all do respect, I'm confused."

Fingolfin put his finger to his lips and rode away from his men. Once out of hearing range, he spoke softly to Roguegast. "What is it that you want? You are coming in the way of a tense situation."

"What do I want? I want to know what is happening! We are on the brink of a full-scale war...a war that could bring Gondor as we know it to fall! You damn well know that there are evil happenings in these parts."

"Listen, I suggest you sim--"

"No," Roguegast roared, as the armies turned to them. "As a servant of the Valar and Peacekeeper of Middle Earth, I demand answers from you, Fingolfin, lord of Dol Amroth."

Fingoflin evaded Roguegast's fiery stare. "And what do you wish to know?"

"Rid yourself of deception. What exactly is your business in the White City?"

"My business? I cannot tell you my business. All I can divulge is that we are upholding the city of Gondor. We have been called in by Vazor, skeleton lord, and King Aragorn to ensure peace in the White City."

Roguegast was still not pleased. "And what of TADA? Have you not considered their plans?"

Fingolfin's eyes shot to the ground. "Little goes by King Aragorn's eyes unseen."

"And what do you need of me?" Rogue asked. "Why do you think TADA took me as a prisoner?"

"They obviously found you to be helpful to their plan. I suggest that you stay away from these parts, good sir Roguegast. Fell deeds are on the horizon. If you are unsure as to who is good and who is evil, you are best to watch from the sidelines."

"Peacekeepers of the Valar do not lurk in the shadows, my good Fingolfin. My part in this story is far from over."

"So shall it be done. In all respect, I have a destination to make. So if you'll excuse me, Minas Tirith awaits."

Roguegast eyed Fingolfin for a moment, and then nodded in agreement. "Farewell, Fingolfin."

CHAPTER 17

"Lord Aragorn, you have visitors."

King Aragorn awoke with a start to be staring at the chubby cheeks of Harpua. The large man seemed to have a rare large grin on his pudgy face.

"Who visits the King at this time?"

"Come with me outside and see."

Aragorn slipped on his white robe and followed Harpua through the marble halls of the King, out through the main door. He looked about, and sighed. "I see nobody but my guards. Is this some kind of joke?"

Harpua, unable to contain his glee, motioned with his arm toward the edge of the courtyard. "Take a peek over towards the fields next to Osgiliath."

Aragorn made his way to the overlook, and nearly fell off the edge. What he saw before his eyes nearly brought him to his knees.

The normally yellow fields ready for harvest at this time of year had turned black overnight. What surprised Aragorn even more was that they appeared to be moving, as if swaying to the surge of the seas.

"What in great Gondor is that...?" Aragorn stammered.

"That, my liege, is twenty thousand of the finest Uruk-Hai at your service. Vazor has finally come."

"Wonderful. By nightfall, we will have Gondor and Mordor in our fists."

"Indeed we shall. Until then, we wait."

CHAPTER 18

The pit in Roguegast’s stomach burned like the fires of Sauron. Roguegast, you know better... Rogue angrily thought as he rode as quickly as possible towards Minas Tirith. The times seemed to have exploded in his face. Two fortnights ago, he was diplomatically having tea with the king of Gondor.

Amidst the deceptions and the lying, if Roguegast was sure about one thing, it was of his present