The Chronicles of the Dunedain: The fall of Harelden

[Berenthel]

(fan fiction based on Middle Earth, where the dunedain have never come out of hiding)

It began on a cold summers morning; the dew was glistening on the grass and all seemed well in the northern lands. Two nights earlier, a battalion composed of Easterlings and Haradrim was hiding in the many caves of Mount Nasvelfin, and today they are nowhere to be found. I, Berenthel, and my band of Rangers were sent in as reconnaissance.

"Berenthel! You must see this, it's something we haven't seen in awhile my lord!" One of the Rangers said.

I approached the plains where my men were taking camp, and noticed a foul stench emanating from the center of the group. There must have been something interesting, for the entire group was crowding around it.

"My lord! This is a decaying cave troll, and we haven't seen trolls in these lands for over an age! This is a terrible omen sir, we must retreat to Rivendell, we will not survive the night. An evil plan is being made sir, I just know it. For the good of us all, retreat!" The eldest Ranger exclaimed.

"How dare you tell me to retreat! You are not even a pureblood Dunedain, you are merely a follower of our beliefs. You have commited an act of treason, and for that, the punishment is death."

My battalion did as they would always do, they beheaded the traitor and moved on towards the mountain range. If anything was to happen to us...I don't know what the Dunedain would do.

[LOTRfan1414]

O thts good, u definitly have to write more.

[Mithrandir]

Great writing!

May I add some comments? I do not intend to offend you in any way and I just hope to give some tips about a more genuine "Middle-earth-feel". However: do with my comments as you see fit.

"My lord! This is a decaying cave troll, and we haven't seen trolls in these lands for over an age! This is a terrible omen sir, we must retreat to Rivendell, we will not survive the night. An evil plan is being made sir, I just know it. For the good of us all, retreat!" The eldest Ranger exclaimed.

As I've always understood, a troll (and also a cave-troll for that matter) turns into stone when they are in sunlight. A decaying troll from which a terrible stench emanates does not seem plausible to me. Though I guess it's just a matter of interpretation. If you believe that a troll only turns into stone when it's in the sunlight alive, just ignore my comment.

"How dare you tell me to retreat! You are not even a pureblood Dunedain, you are merely a follower of our beliefs. You have commited an act of treason, and for that, the punishment is death."

My battalion did as they would always do, they beheaded the traitor and moved on towards the mountain range. If anything was to happen to us...I don't know what the Dunedain would do.

Beheading a fellow Ranger just seems a bit rash to me for such a simple 'delict' (merely giving ones opinion). It simply does not correspond with my view of the Rangers as descendants from the noble Men of Númenor.

Spelling correction in the first sentence of my last quote: Dúnedain is plural. The singular is Dúnedan.

[Berenthel]

Thanks for the advice! Sorry about all the mistakes, I am only beginning to read the expanded stories of Middle Earth and did not know of the whole Cave Troll thing. Along with the spelling mistakes, you can't really blame me, i'm only 14, but I will try to be more cautious in the future.

[Berenthel]

The march along the cold and icy mountain was more perilous then any of us could have imagined; with every step you had to stop and see if the ice would hold you. Twelve of my men had already perished of the cold, and three had fallen off the mountain itself.

Finally, we had reached the caves! It seemed empty, a faint light emerged from the deepest darkness within it.

"Feljar, go check out the cave farthest to the left...I smell Easterlings." I ordered.

Cautiously and steadily, Feljar moved towards the cave with both bow and blade in hand. I pityed Feljar, for his father had fallen in battle weeks earlier, and what makes it worse is he fell to a Nazgul.

"My lord, I've spotted the Easterlings!" Feljar whispered.

"All right men, this is what we've been waiting for. Bows ready, blades drawn...Give them hell!"

Arrows flew into the cave, slaughtering the bulk of them instantly. Many Easterlings were still alive, and we charged into battle. Easterlings were not the brightest warriors, and were not properly trained...therefore it was an easy fight. I managed to parry every last blade that tried to meet my flesh, and whoever tried to kill me would soon pay the consequences. One by one, we struck down the Easterling barbarians, and had dominated the battle.

Now...where were the Haradrim that were seen accompanying them? Perhaps they were in one of the other caves, for this entire mountain was literally a giant maze. They could be anywhere...I felt as if I was being watched.

[gandalf193]

Does this story take place before or after the war of the ring?