Lord of the Rings: Warriors

"By the Dragon God above! I can't fathom why the Star Elves decided to attack the Orcs!" Rynar groaned in frustration. 

They had already fought two bloody battles this winter, and everyone was still licking their wounds. 

Yet, without a word, the elves of Singrey had launched a covert assault on Dol Guldur, only to be counterattacked by its lord, Khamûl. 

The blow cost them Elenthor, and Rynar hadn't even known that Dol Guldur housed a Sixth-Tier powerhouse!

"Perhaps the Star Elves wanted to take this chance to eradicate a lingering threat while the Orcs were weakened," Omsk said, seated on his Abyssal Warhorse.

He sighed at the elves' rashness. "Singrey isn't far from Dol Guldur, and their hatred for Orcs isn't a recent affair."

"Maybe so, but Elenthor's life and death are now uncertain. We cannot afford to lose Singrey as well," Rynar declared firmly. 

"With allies already in short supply, we must preserve this crucial strength. If Singrey falls, the remaining Star Elves will surely flee, and we'll lose this valuable ally."

"Hey, hey, hey! Something this big happens, and you don't even tell me?" Vanervi called out, catching up from behind with his shimmering longbow and a quiver on his back.

"Come on! I've been chasing after you for ages. Why'd you move so fast and leave me behind? I'm a Sixth-Tier Tracker, for goodness' sake!" he panted, clearly irritated. 

"I may not be the most powerful, but I'm solid mid-tier. Yet you just forgot about me..."

"...…" Rynar.

"...…" Omsk.

"Uh… sorry. I really forgot about you," Rynar admitted, his face flushing with embarrassment. Forgetting someone who fancied themselves an elven king was bad enough. 

Worse, they'd been caught red-handed.

"Never mind. Huh? You didn't bring more troops?" Vanervi asked, glancing at Rynar's entourage with amusement.

"These are all I brought. Is there a problem?" Rynar asked, puzzled.

"Just this lot? Are you going on a picnic? Or maybe just planning to cheer from the sidelines?" 

Vanervi's tone was heavy with sarcasm as he eyed Rynar's force of 350 soldiers, a force he considered laughably small.

"Wait, are you implying I'm slacking? Let me remind you, these are the best soldiers Rapid City has to offer! 

We're supporting Singrey, not trying to save it single-handedly. They still have the strength to counterattack and defend themselves. 

Regardless of Elenthor's fate, at least Elandor is still alive. With a Dragon Knight in play, even the Black Hero must tread carefully. 

What Singrey needs now isn't numbers but elite combat power," Rynar explained. Supporting Singrey would restore hope to its people; it wasn't about depleting their own resources. 

As a knight of the Zaltarion Empire, Rynar had a duty to his own kingdom. 

If Zaltarion's territory were under threat, Rynar would mobilize the full army and call upon the kingdom's vassals to march to war.

"Fair enough. Guess that makes me high-tier combat power," Vanervi said, scratching his head.

"Good grief, have some humility!" Rynar groaned, feeling a headache brewing as the Sixth-Tier Tracker flaunted his rank before him, a mere Third-Tier Paladin.

"Hey, hey, hey. Rank speaks for itself!" Vanervi said smugly, thrilled that the magical bow, Manikati, had elevated him to Sixth Tier. "Totally worth it!"

"I shouldn't have let you tag along," Rynar muttered, speeding his horse away from Vanervi.

"Any sign of him?" a hoarse, guttural voice demanded.

"My lord… we lost his trail," the orcs stammered, trembling as they knelt before him in terror.

"Fools!" Khamûl roared. Black smoke enveloped the groveling orcs, and within seconds, nothing but scattered ashes remained.

"The Elven King…" Khamûl growled, clad in pitch-black bone armor. A long, narrow wound on his left shoulder glowed faintly, reflecting a starry silver-blue light even in the darkness of the forest.

The wound was a cruel reminder of his last battle. After Azog's death, Khamûl had risen to take control of Dol Guldur's forces. 

Recently, he had ambushed an elven king, only for the nimble elf to evade his lethal strike. 

Though severely wounded, the elf had managed to counterattack, leaving the painful starlight-infused injury that now tormented Khamûl.

"Double the patrols! Find him! He's gravely injured!" Khamûl commanded, his raspy voice echoing like a death knell.

Terrified, the orcs scattered, eager to escape the wrath of their volatile master.

"The Elven King would make an excellent trophy," Khamûl mused, his voice a chilling whisper. "I'll soak my blade in his blood! 

But that damned dragon is such a nuisance!" He glared at the starry barrier that encased Singrey like an inverted bowl. 

With a wave of his hand, he ordered the orc army to remain vigilant. The last time, a few had escaped. 

If reinforcements broke through, letting the Star Elves escape, it would be a humiliating blow.

Unbeknownst to Khamûl, the elves of Singrey still had over 2,000 warriors capable of mounting a desperate defense. 

Elandor, astride his Star Dragon, was more than a match for Khamûl. Reinforcements were also on their way. 

The Woodland Realm's King Thranduil led 3,000 elven soldiers in a relentless march. 

Erebor had dispatched 500 dwarves to join 100 warriors from Dale. 

Aquavia's White Wing King had sent 200 troops under the command of Knight Maple Purple. And Rynar, with two Sixth-Tier fighters and 350 elite troops, was advancing southward.

In short, once the allied forces united… Khamûl was done for.

"Pick up the pace! The Star Elves need us!" Rynar urged his troops forward. He knew that prolonged sieges crushed morale. 

A timely show of force was critical to renewing hope and determination in Singrey. 

His heavily armed Zaltarion Royal Guard, burdened with tower shields and full armor, gritted their teeth and kept pace, bolstered by Rynar's buffs.

"Elenthor, you troublesome fool! This mess better not have cost your life!" Rynar cursed inwardly as he lashed his whip, pushing his horse to go faster.

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