Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien’s works, as this is simply a fanfiction and not actual material under the Saul Saentz company.

The Silver Scepter

Part 1: The Return of Sauron

The Prologue:

After the War of the Ring, peace remained in Middle-Earth as the Fourth Age began. The reign of Elessar marked the beginning of the decline of all speaking peoples of Middle-Earth. The only wars that took place were between Orcs and Evil Men that had served Sauron before, but they were of no sense crucial, as Elessar won many times the Victory.

Elessar passed away at 120 of the Fourth Age. The kingdoms of Arda remained unharmed for a long time. The Elves slowly lessened and lessened in numbers as they sailed away to Valinor. Arnor, the Realm of Elendil and Isildur’s descendents, the realm that was jointly founded with Gondor and together with Gondor, was restored. Middle-Earth became a plethora of peaceful lands. But Evil manages to linger, to regroup.

One of the battles that Gondor, Rohan, Arnor and such nations swiftly won took place in the realm of Angmar in the north, by the now reborn Realm of Arnor. Lagorhast, King of Arnor, Areglerio, King of Gondor, and Eóbrand, King of Rohan, approached the Battlefield with their great armies to crush the orcs. The Armies of orcs swept along the plains from amidst the mountains. Suddenly, a black cloud on a fiercesome wind swept along the ground and knocked Eóbrand off from his horse, and he died there. From out of the Black Cloud came what appeared to be a Wizard, with glimmering black robes and a staff wrought from obsidian. His beard was charcoal grey. He wore a granite crown with obsidian pieces placed in it as jewels are in real crowns. In his other hand he held a scepter, a silver scepter, with a large, fiery ruby on top.

“Who are you?” asked King Areglerio. “And what make you dare slay the King of Rohan?”

“I am Namuras,” he spoke in a somber tone. “I am evil on Arda restored.” He showed them his silver scepter. “With this I shall rule it.”

He lifted his scepter high. Out from the fiery ruby upon it came red lightning, which slew King Areglerio. The orc armies came to the field, and the armies battled. But the orcs were of great numbers uncountable, and the Armies of Gondor, of Rohan, and of Arnor were defeated and driven away. Before they were, however, King Lagorhast beheld a terrible thing. When the Cloud of Namuras moved across the battlefield, above it loomed a Great Fiery Eye, like a cat’s eye, and when Namuras appeared, he came from that Eye.

When Lagorhast came back to his throne, he realized that Sauron had returned in this form of Namuras. He reported it to the wise scholars of Arnor, Gondor, Rohan, and to the remaining Elves. The Elves held a Council under the trees of Eryn Lasgalen. They reported in a small ultimatum of the meeting:

“We shall fight for one last time, one last time with the Men, before we all will soon pass over the Sea to our true home. Our numbers be few, but we seek to be help against this gathering dark of the prior slain.”

As this was soon reported, a great army of Orcs and of Easterlings and of Southrons sought to regain Mordor. King Gaertirn, son of Areglerio, King of Gondor, led an Army to defend the people of Nurn and to defeat the Evil Army approaching at the ruins of Barad-Dur. But Gondor is defeated and the armies driven away. The shadow falls again upon Mordor.

An elite uruk army is seen passing by the Ettenmoors. But because of pointless strifes between Arnor and Gondor, they are let as is. Then the army later reappears by the Amon Súl. Arnor prepares for war, for Annuminas, the capital of Arnor, is near Amon Súl. Arador III, Prince of Gondor, is in Annuminas at this time, as is Two of the elven councellors from the prior meeting in the Eryn Lasgalen…

Chapter 1: Upon the Field

Clouds. Light Rain. This was the gloomy outset of that day, of the Year 1009 of the Fourth Age of Middle-Earth, upon November 22. Arador looked out from upon the wall that surrounded the inner city of Annuminas. He didn’t quite know the exact reason he was in Arnor; he knew he was there visiting his Uncle Morodadan, but he felt another purpose. Or maybe the cold weather was getting to him.

Arador smirked as his laughing uncle walked up the stair to the wall.

“And you have a good time too, Risrandir,” called Arador’s Uncle Morodadan to his friend. Morodadan stepped up to his nephew.

“And is my nephew having a good time?” inquired Morodadan.

“Yes, basically,” said Arador.

Morodadan slowly lost his smile. “You do not look like you are having a good time.”

Arador looked beyond the city, at the rolling green plain and the danger that would soon litter in with its filth.

“You think of the battle coming?” asked Morodadan. The uncle’s smiled again. “The warriors of this city are great, as is you.” He walked along the outer wall. Both peered down at a company of soldiers marching quickly out of the Inner wall gate and to the outer area. Both looked as more soldiers armed themselves below and talked hastily of war plans. Morodadan walked back to Arador, still looking down. He placed his shoulder on Arador’s.

“Don’t be troubled, nephew.”

Morodadan walked to the top of the stair, beckoning Arador to come with his finger. Arador curiously followed. The former rain made the step undesirably slippery. Arador followed his uncle through the Inner City, dodging swift running soldiers that went to their posts. They past many townspeople putting small barricades on their doors and windows, getting weapons ready, and running to the market to get as many supplies as possible.

Finally they came upon the King’s Palace. It was a short, broad tower, decorated with hanging banners and elegant stone statues. The twosome walked up a short staircase to the large door. Two guards in full and quite lavish armor stopped them by crossing two golden spears in front of the door. One of the guards spoke.

“Do you have a permit by the King to let The Lord Prince in here, Morodadan?”

“Yes, I do,” calmly spoke Morodadan. He pulled out a small piece of parchment with silver ink and the Seal of Arnor. He handed it to the guard. The guard stared at it for a moment, and gave it back to Morodadan.

“Go along.”

The doors swung open, seeming as if they opened on their own. The guards lifted their spears. Morodadan and Arador slowly walked through the hall. Tall silver pillars and white stone lined the royal Hall of Arnor. Arador looked ahead to the King, King Faramir II. The King stood, smiling as the duo approached the throne.

“Welcome, Prince Arador, and Morodadan,” he said. They bowed to the King. “Arise,” he then commanded.

The King looked at both keenly. He then continued. “You all know of the imminent attack upon the city. It is rather obvious that we are preparing in earnest to the moment that the uruks unleash their malice upon the City. You two will need to fight as protectors of the Inner Wall.”

Morodadan and Arador looked at each other.

The King looked back at them. “This will, of course, require that you arm yourselves. Do you have any weapons, Lord Prince?”

“Yes, I do,” replied Arador. “I have a sword and a shield of Gondor.”

“That will be well,” said King Faramir. “And you, Morodadan, what do you have to arm yourself?”

“I have a spear and a ceremonial shield, my lord,” replied Morodadan.

“And that will be well,” said the King smiling. He continued.

“After the battle, Lord Prince, you must find the Elven Counselors.”

Arador looked at Morodadan. Now he realized that there was some other purpose for coming. Morodadan kept his gaze to the throne, but Arador knew that Morodadan was looking at him in sudden realization. The King allowed them out of the Palace. They walked out, but at a faster pace then when they had entered. After walking down the steps, Morodadan pointed his finger to beyond the city. Arador saw an army approaching in the distance. The uruks were coming.

Arador quickly ran with Morodadan to Morodadan’s house, which was a street to the left of the palace. Arador was staying with Morodadan in that house. They rushed inside the door. Luinloth, Arador’s Aunt and Morodadan’s wife, was inside preparing to leave for the Underground stronghold where the women and children would stay safely in battle. She looked at Morodadan.

“Are you both required to fight?” she said.

“Yes,” said Arador.

Luinloth frowned, but returned herself to good spirits. She stepped out the door, embraced them both, and left.

“Stay safe, please!” she said while running out.

The two walked through the house. Morodadan got the spear, which hung as a decoration by the fireplace. He reached for the ceremonial shield above the mantle. Arador went to the room he was staying in to get his weapons. He reached under his bed for his sword. After getting it, he looked at the sword for blemishes. The sword’s blade was about a meter long with a hilt of about ten inches. He found the sheath and placed it within. He got his shield, which was next to the sword. It was about the size of a normal man’s trunk and had the White Tree as a design placed on its front.

“Let’s go nephew!” yelled Morodadan. “They are almost to the wall!”

At that Arador ran outside with his Uncle. They reached the inner Wall just in time. Yeomen and Soldiers with swords and spears lined the battlements on the wall. The wall part that they were on was the same wall where Arador had looked out from. It was not very long, for it had short turrets on each side, with a gate below. Below the wall was a sloping, paved hillside with a road climbing to the gate. This hill was the actual hill that the inner city was set on, being low yet very long and wide. At the end of the short slope is the Outer city, lined with orderly streets and centers with homes, businesses, and markets along the roads. The outer city was by many means larger than the Inner. At the end of the Outer City is the Outer wall, which is the circumference of the whole circular city of Annuminas In direct alignment of the Inner Gate is the Outer Gate, which is higher and wider the Inner Wall.

The Uruk army reached the outer wall, and stopped. The Uruk General stood at the front of the gate. He looked up at the Arnorian soldiers, laughed, and summoned the army to storm the wall. They rammed into the wall and the gate with fierce battering rams. Trolls appeared near the wall, using their great maces and hammers to pound the wall to ruin. The yeomen on the wall released their swift arrows, piercing the uruk soldiers, but that was not enough to stay them.

Soldiers waited inside the Outer City near the wall to charge if it is breached. Soldiers were on the Inner Wall also, and also there were soldiers waiting inside the Inner city. Arador looked at the grim scene on the Outer Wall, as soldiers fell to their doom, either arrow pierced or slashed by sword. Uruks had used ladders and ropes to overrun the wall. The soldiers began to hold them off as long as they could. Soldiers waiting in the Outer City ran up stairs to the wall as reinforcements. Morodadan looked at Arador, who was gazing upon the situation. Arador wanted to help, but he knew he could not.

Siege Towers came into view. These towers were armed with a score of uruks each, mostly skilled Uruk yeomen. The towers had release platforms to storm a high wall, and had battering rams on either side. Trolls pushed the siege towers. The Soldiers of Arnor went up onto the turrets of the wall, and fired their ballistae. The large ballistae bolts tipped with fire fired at the siege towers. The siege towers soon fell, engulfed in flame.

The Uruks were slowly winning the Wall. Soldiers protecting sides of the Outer Wall not coming under attack fled their posts as catapults fired burning stone and blasting powder at wall segments not under direct Uruk attack. These soldiers either perished by the fire or ran to help the defenders of the wall under direct attack. But they couldn’t hold them off any longer. The Gate fell, horribly punctured and burnt.

The Uruks stormed inside the City. The Wall was overrun. The Soldiers waiting there fought the Uruks there in the Outer City. Arador readied himself, knowing that it was a matter of time before he was to fight. Morodadan took a firmer grasp upon his spear. The Soldiers bravely fought the Uruks. Marauding Trolls reduced stately homes into helpless rubble and ruin. Homes of the Poor were like straw for burning in the eyes of the trolls. Uruks used their torches to burn as much as possible.

Morodadan stood ready to attack. Arador seemed more and more ready to fight by the minute. The soldiers were holding the Uruks off well, but they would soon lose hold of some of the Uruks. Morodadan walked over to Arador, separated from him by a few yeomen. Both looked at the battle ensuing.

“How many years has it been since you fought, Morodadan?” asked Arador, his eyes still fixed ahead.

“Thirty-seven, my nephew. Fifteen years longer than your age, and fifteen years shorter than my age,” Morodadan replied, eyes, like his nephew, forward.

Arador gave a small smile. He was young, and had only been a man for a few years now. But there was little to smile about at this moment. A Troll was nearing the Inner Wall. A lieutenant that was on their wall took action as the Troll neared.

“Draw!” ordered the lieutenant to his yeomen. They drew back their bows with their steel-tipped arrows.

“Steady!” The Troll came closer.

“Steady!” The Troll came to the Wall.

“Fire!” The yeomen released a shower of arrows at the Troll. The arrows lodged themselves in the Troll’s back and head. It wavered, stumbled, then died. The yeomen drew more arrows into their yews. Arador stared at the dead trolls, the fine, feathered arrows of Arnor were lined in its bloody back.

Slowly short lines of Uruks came to the Inner Wall. The lieutenant shouted orders to his yeomen, the men firing at command. Then, a whole brigade of Uruks that slipped from the efforts of the Arnor warriors stormed the Inner Gate where Arador and Morodadan were above. The yeomen fired confusedly at the on flow of Uruks. Arador and Morodadan could feel the Gate vibrating, the barricade on the other side of the Gate withstanding the crushing blows. Then, the duo had their first chance to fight. Siege Ladders were set on the wall.

Uruks scaled the wall. Arador thrust his sword into the first to reach the top.

“Well done, my nephew!” hurriedly spoke Morodadan, who ran to dispatch another Uruk. It fell dead at his feet.

“A well done to you, Uncle!” jokingly said Arador. Both had a brief smile, then went to fight.

The lieutenant was perhaps the most skilled warrior on that wall. He defeated many of the Uruks with ease using a long sword of Numenor and a round shield of the King’s court. Arador stood by the lieutenant.

“You aren’t that all bad, Lord Prince,” said the lieutenant. The lieutenant swung his sword at a spear-wielding Uruk. It fell dead.

“Thank you,” breathed Arador as he ran to aid his Uncle.

Morodadan was fighting off Uruks pouring out from one ladder. Morodadan spoke as he fought.

“If you ruin this city…”

He stabbed his spear into an Uruk.

“…I will show you….”

He butted his shield against an orc.

“…What it means to confront…”

He slit a Uruk’s throat with the edge of the spear

“…A grumpy old man!”

Arador helped even the load of the evil warriors.

“Here is the best way to take care of them, Uncle,” said Arador. He grabbed one of the ladder bars and pushed it down. Morodadan and Arador took care of the remaining Uruks from that ladder. Soldiers ran up the stairs for aid, knowing that a yeoman’s short sword and little armor was not sufficient in hand to hand combat. Uruks beat against the gate. A siege tower had passed the Arnor Soldiers in the Outer City and reached the Inner Wall. It approached the turret to the right of the little Gate Wall section. It let loose its planks onto the battlement, crushing a yeoman there. The first Uruk to step out was none other than the General, the same one who laughed at the Outer Gate. It led an onrush of Uruks down the stairs to the Gate Wall.

Arador saw the Uruk General run down the stairs. He pointed it out to the lieutenant, who was busy shouting orders to his men.

“Fire!” shouted the lieutenant to the yeomen. They all fired, aiming for the General. But they all missed. Uruk yeoman from the lodged siege tower fired at the yeomen, killing many. The Uruk General stepped up to the lieutenant. He swung his scimitar at him. The lieutenant blocked with his sword. They started a grueling duel there. Morodadan had ran down the stairs to help the soldiers with some Uruks that had gone beyond the wall by going down stairs, for behind each turret was a building lined with stairs on each side. Arador and a few other soldiers held Uruks at bay on the stairs up to the Gate Wall. Arador looked at the Uruk General and the lieutenant fight. The duel looked to have no end. Suddenly the Uruk General brought the lieutenant down, wounding him. Arador ran to the lieutenant. The Uruk General lifted his scimitar, letting out an evil laugh. Arador thrust his sword into the General’s arm. Its laughter turned to wincing as the General ran off. Arador lowered himself over the lieutenant.

“Are you alright?” asked Arador.

“I…I can’t move!” said the lieutenant.

“We will get you to a physician.”

Arador and a few yeomen lifted the lieutenant down the stairs and through the Inner City.

“We have reached safety, Lord Prince,” said a soldier. “We can take him further to a healer.”

Arador turned away, running back to the battle. The rest of the Inner Wall outside of the turrets had been about overrun. Uruks started to run rampant into the Inner City. Arnorian soldiers in the Outer City were being defeated. Arador and Morodadan were tiring, both almost perishing but were fortunate to dodge. Arador looked as the Gate finally fell. The Uruks poured on through. The Gate Wall was finally overrun. Arador ran along side his Uncle to protect the Palace.

Suddenly, from out of the Keep below the Palace, the great Calvary of Arnor was unleashed. The Uruks fled in terror as the swift horses of the North slew the armies. Arador and Morodadan let a sigh of relief, both weary of battle. The Calvary drove the enemy out to the Outer Rims of the City. The Arnor army that had been fighting in the Outer City, with the Calvary, drove them out of the city and slew countless at that desperate charge.

The Battle had been won. Arador, with a weary Morodadan holding his arm for support, made their way to the Underground Keep to retrieve Aunt Luinloth and rest. They walked down the stairs, passing joyous women and children. They came down to the bottom.


It was Luinloth. She embraced both of them. They made their way back up to their home. When they walked up to the home, they saw a shattered window and a broken door. Expecting the worse, they creaked open the door. The house was not damaged at all. What must have happened was that it was just about to be ransacked when the Calvary swept through. Smiling they walked into the comfort of their home. Morodadan walked into the bedroom and fell fast asleep. Arador walked in his bedroom and rested his weary bones, but did not sleep, for he had a job to do.

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