Board Thread:Fun and Games/@comment-25344655-20141025230340/@comment-25544410-20141028040926

Weapon: Old Elf sword and a ring of power!!!!!!! (A Ring of Power? I call BS. There are very few rings of power, and all of them are in the possession of someone I doubt you could kill, except 3 Dwarven rings which were already stated to be in the hands of Mordor.)

(Also, Amanntai is not in Rivendell. There was an imminent Haradrim attack on Gondor, which apparently we skipped past, but it would have been sufficient to delay his arrival at Rivendell. Fill him in with a random Gondorian instead, until he arrives.)

11 days ago...

The forces of Gondor tasked with destroying the Harad threat approach the camp where the Haradrim sleep. Alongside them are 600 White Dwarves, ready to fight. Though there are at least two Haradrim for every soldier in the attacking force, the surprise attack should even their chances.

The signal comes down the line: "Advance with caution."

Amanntai signals his troops, and nods to Klest, who leads the Dwarves. "All troops advance down the slope towards the camp."

Though the Men of Gondor are careful, it is hard to cover the sound of 1000 armored troops marching down a hill, and the watchmen of Harad are careful. A silent alarm goes up through the camp, and the forces of the South are roused from slumber.

"CHARGE!" comes the cry of the Captain. A thousand Gondorian soldiers charge forward, with their Dwarven allies alongside them. An answering cry rises up from the Haradrim guards, while the host within the camp, now fully awake, readies to fight.

"For Gondor!" Amanntai shouts, bashing a Haradrim watch with his shield while swinging his sword in a blazing arc towards another. The first watch is trampled under the advancing Gondorians, but the second dodges the blow, only to be cut down by Arveleg, the Banner Bearer of Amanntai's troop. "The Southrons shall fall before us!"

The camp's watchmen are cut down, but the warriors of Harad advance to replace them. Fierce fighting breaks out, the men of Gondor fight hard, but they are outnumbered. Amanntai slices a Harad swordsman with his sword, igniting the poor soul, but another warrior takes his place and nearly lands a blow. The Haradrim warriors fall left and right, but many Men of Gondor are among the ranks of dead as well. An alarm cry goes up from the ranks of the Dwarves: "Mumakil! The beasts of Harad are upon us!" Amanntai turns to see two of the great beasts striding towards the Dwarven forces. Brave axe-throwers hurl their weapons at the Mumakil, but they have little effect. "Fall back, Dwarves!" Klest shouts, "Away from their feet!"

Panic rises among the ranks of Gondor, and in their moment of fear the forces of Harad gain the advantage and strike at the Gondorian ranks. "Men of Gondor, rally to me! Fight back against the Haradrim! Archers, attack the Mumakil!" ''At least there are only two. If the Southrons had brought more, we'd be doomed. ''With a battlecry, Amanntai returns to the battle at hand. "Fight into the camp! If the Mumakil follow us, they will destroy the Haradrim's own supplies!"

Meanwhile, the Archers of Harad rain death on Man and Dwarf alike. The Mumak rider laughs as the attacking forces flee before the might of Harad. Then the archers of Gondor return fire. An arrow fired from Derufin, the Archer, hits the rider in the neck, causing him to fall off the saddle. Riderless, the Mumak stampedes in a random direction, while the Archers aboard are picked off by arrow and axe.

"Nice shot Derufin, think you could do it again?" Arveleg asks.

"It would be my pleasure." Derufin replies, notching another arrow.

"Boar riders, distract that Mumak and lead it away! Axe-throwers, target the other Mumak!" Klest shouts to his dwarves. "We shall be victorious today!" With a hearty roar, the White Dwarves renew their attack on the second Mumak.

"Die Gondorian Scum!" A Harad Captain yells, knocking Amanntai's shield aside with a scimitar blow while parrying Amanntai's blade with a second scimitar.

"Someday Southron, but it won't be by your hands!" Amanntai replies, kicking the captain in the groin. Pushing his adversary back with his sword, Amanntai drops his shield and pulls his Elven Blade from his back. "Let's see how you fight when the weapons are even." Blades slash and parry. The fight is evenly matched, but Amanntai forces the Haradrim warrior back against a tent.

"Surprise!" shouts Orodreth, one of Amanntai's veterans, slashing through the tent and the Harad captain. "Happy to see me? No?"

"Come on, Orodreth, way to steal my glory. I had him there!" Amanntai says, half jokingly, half relieved to see his friend alive. A joyous shout rings through the now devastated camp, and a thunderous crash is heard. "They must have brought down the second Mumakil. Where is the might of Harad now? See, they flee the camp before us!"

"Aye, but there are many of our men among the dead." Orodreth says sadly. "We shall grieve before we can celebrate."

"That is true. But when we do celebrate, it shall be at Minas Tirith, and it shall be a glorious celebration, with much rum for everyone! Much more to our Dwarven allies!" Amanntai laughed. He walked over to where the Dwarves celebrated on top the slain Mumak. "Tell me, Lord Klest, have you tasted rum yet? I dare say it's superior to Dwarven ale!"

3 days, some mourning, and much celebration later...

"Ten thousand orcs in Mirkwood? A summons to Rivendell? I am late, but I will make for the old city with the utmost haste! Arveleg, tell Duinhir and Malvegil to ready their men's mounts, we ride to Rowanwood!"