Chapter 44: Rising Tensions
"There's great trouble up north! What has this tiny place of Erebor done to earn Sauron's personal attention?
Damn it, the armies of Mordor are lined up!" Rynar sat atop Caslow's dragon, his mind swirling with thoughts.
"My lord, don't worry, everything will pass! The glory of Zaltarion blesses you and me!" Caslow turned his head to comfort him.
"Sigh, even if the elves join the battle, our chances of winning are still slim!" Rynar pondered for a moment before speaking.
"Why?" Caslow asked, puzzled.
With Rynar able to muster an army of 800, the Aranthors could assemble another 500, the Iron Hills could raise over 1,000 troops, Thorin could gather nearly 2,000 dwarves, and Bard from Dale could grit his teeth to squeeze out 500 more.
The elves had at least 3,500 warriors. All told, they could easily form a coalition of over 8,000 men. With proper arrangements, defeating the orcs shouldn't be impossible.
"We have to fight on two fronts! The only support for the south can come from King Dain of the Iron Hills!" Rynar explained.
"The elves will surely intercept the orcs from Gobadar Fortress marching south. Bard and Thorin would spare no effort for their homeland.
The only ones who can escape are the Ironfoot dwarves led by Dain! And we are facing Azog of Dol Guldur, supported by the armies of Mordor!" Rynar said, his head aching.
"Wait! Take me back! You go north to send the message!" Rynar suddenly seemed to remember something and his face lit up.
"Uh…" Though Caslow didn't understand his king's command, he complied nonetheless.
Did Rynar think of a way to break the deadlock?
He indeed had! Knowing that this Middle-earth resembled the one he had played in the Ring of Power, he wondered if the various hidden forces within Middle-earth truly existed as well.
Rynar planned to verify this. If they did exist, then he could say he had already won half the battle in the upcoming conflict at Erebor!
Rynar whispered a few instructions to Reynard before hastily riding toward the docks.
Coincidentally, there was indeed a hidden faction of order within Mirkwood, known as the Star Elves!
They resided in the secret realm of Singrey, which was directly north of Dol Guldur.
Utilizing a powerful star-warding spell array, they had concealed their entire kingdom.
If he was not mistaken, there should be dragon riders within Singrey!
When players had accidentally stumbled in before, they had discovered an ancient dragon, but that was in the Fifth Age.
Now it was the Third Age, so there should be a younger star dragon.
Its formidable barrier abilities had forged the star barrier of the Singrey elves, allowing them to separate from the outside world and successfully avoid the chaos of the times.
This elven tribe's ancestors seemed to be a group of high elves seeking refuge, eventually turning to worship the Star Goddess, leading them to call themselves the Star Elves!
Rynar felt he should seek out this secluded kingdom.
If he could successfully persuade these elves to join the fight, he wouldn't have to worry at all about the southern orc army and could even counterattack Dol Guldur.
That way, he wouldn't need the elves of Lothlórien and Rivendell to assault the fortress.
"Your Majesty! Where are we going?" Seeing Rynar prepare to dive into the woods, Reynard grabbed him.
That direction was Dol Guldur! Surely, his king wasn't foolish enough to try and take the fortress with just the two of them!
Even two paladins, let alone two dragon riders, would have a tough time against such a well-staffed and fully-equipped fortress.
"We're looking for someone who can turn the tide!" Rynar said with a mysterious smile.
"Don't! Your Majesty! We can't turn the tide. With just the two of us, we'd be too easily outmatched!
Sending ourselves to our deaths like this is far too heavy a price!" Reynard exclaimed, holding onto Rynar, terrified that his king was about to lead them into Dol Guldur.
In the face of such overwhelming numbers, even heroic-level knights like them had no chance of survival.
"What? Dol Guldur? Get lost! Who the hell wants to go there? I'm not crazy! I can't take on Azog!" Rynar said, kicking Reynard off him in annoyance.
To his surprise, instead of getting angry, Reynard laughed and said, "Good! Your Majesty, that was a great kick!" Rynar's normal reaction relieved Reynard.
"We're going to seek out the legendary Star Elves! If they're willing to join the fight, then we might have a chance to win!" Rynar adjusted his armor and replied tersely.
"Understood! Your Majesty is right!" Reynard replied with a smile.
"Let's go! We need to hurry and avoid the orc patrols!" Rynar urged.
"Then we can't ride!" Reynard said seriously.
"No riding? How long will it take to get there?" Rynar exclaimed in shock.
"Your Majesty, hoofprints will reveal our movements, and the sound of hooves will give away our position.
Moreover, galloping through the forest isn't a good choice…" Reynard patiently explained.
"Um… You make a good point." Rynar thought it over and realized he had indeed overlooked the severe consequences of riding.
"Your Majesty, we must hurry while it's still light out…" Reynard glanced at the sky.
"Let's go!" Rynar took one last look in the direction of Riverguard before turning and leaving with Reynard.
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"What? The orcs of Mordor?" Thranduil stared in shock at Caslow below the steps.
"Yes! Our allies have been ambushed by them and suffered heavy casualties!" Caslow replied, neither humble nor arrogant.
"How could they come to the north?" Thranduil still couldn't believe it.
"But the fact is indeed true!" Caslow pulled out a totem banner from his cloak.
"This totem doesn't belong to the orcs of the Misty Mountains, nor does it match the banners of Dol Guldur's orcs! Our allies were ambushed while scouting south.
So, noble King of the Woodland Realm, which orc factions do you believe still exist to the south?" Caslow raised his gaze, speaking coldly.
"Damn it!"
Thranduil's face muscles twitched, clearly enraged. It's worth noting that before the final battle of the Last Alliance, the human and elven coalition had already fought against the orcs twice.
It was Thranduil's father leading the woodland elves and the elves of Lothlórien.Both elven armies were ambushed in the Dead Marshes.
The king of the Woodland Realm, Oropher—who was also Thranduil's father—perished in that battle.
Ironically, Dol Guldur, this old fortress overrun by orcs, had once been the capital of the woodland elves…
Even Caslow couldn't help but want to retort, why didn't you tear down the city after you left? Was magic too expensive to afford?
Or were the elven mages all dead? Leaving such a great menace for everyone else to deal with…
"I have received your intent. Please tell King Rynar! If the orcs of Mordor come, I will lead my army to support you! Please light the beacon to guide us!" Thranduil's eyes flashed with a vengeful light.
"No! Elven King, you must understand one thing: once the armies of Mordor arrive, the orcs of Gobadar will surely swarm out as well!
The northern defenses need you to stabilize them!" Caslow said gravely, looking at Thranduil.
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