Lord of the Rings: Warriors

"Shunk!" Elenthor casually withdrew his curved blade from the chest of an Orc who had attempted a sneaky ambush.

"We've arrived! The old fortress!" Vanervi's eyes gleamed with eagerness as a city, dark and overgrown with roots and thorns, loomed ahead.

"Amon Lanc... our home!" Thranduil's eyes shimmered faintly, betraying his emotions.

"Stay close! No stragglers!" Bard, the Dragonslayer, drew his longbow, carefully scanning the surroundings. The oppressive darkness of Mirkwood made his every step heavy with caution.

"Stay alert! Prepare to attack or counterattack at any moment!" 

Aranthor moved through the troops, his large shield gleaming as he clapped soldiers who stopped in awe of the Elven city, reminding them to stay vigilant against any ambushes.

"Archers, bring up the rear! Rangers in the center! Warriors to the front! Knights, follow me—stay in formation!" Rynar growled, his eyes scanning the dense forest.

The dense trees hindered the troops' formations, causing gaps in the phalanxes and circular arrays as the soldiers moved. 

Although it hadn't led to any major mishaps, these breaches allowed several Orcs to stage sneak attacks, injuring many.

"Form up!" A low shout echoed from the front.

A group of Dwarves scouting ahead raised their large shields, forming a tight double-layered shield wall. 

Poorly made iron arrows from the attackers clattered harmlessly against the barrier with metallic pings.

"Counterattack!" Elven rangers hiding behind the shield wall quickly drew their bows and fired in a high arc towards the general location of the hidden enemies.

"Aaagh!" A wretched scream rang out. 

From the sound of it, the unlucky Orc had plenty of life left despite the hit. However, after the Elves unleashed another volley, silence returned.

"Suppressive fire—cover the area!"

The allied commanders, experienced in the perils of Dol Guldur, had no intention of rushing ahead. 

They ordered their archers and rangers to unleash a storm of arrows at the suspected hiding spots.

"Enough! No survivors! Retrieve your arrows, and let's move!" Vanervi commanded coldly, crossing his arms. 

His mental energy had been scanning the area thoroughly, and he was sure no other living beings were nearby apart from the slain Orcs. 

As for why he let them be initially? What a joke! A few insignificant Orcs hardly warranted the effort of a sixth-tier combatant.

"Pull the troops together. We're too close to Dol Guldur to stay scattered," Rynar addressed the allied commanders gravely. 

"With this large a force, there's no way to hide our presence."

Currently, the allied soldiers were spread out over several square kilometers. 

If the sixth-tier combatants were tied up in battle, even a small cavalry squad could wreak havoc on the scattered troops. 

Orc wolf riders, in particular, were a menace even seasoned knights respected.

"Horn signals!"

The air was filled with the sound of horns from various allied contingents. 

Hearing the calls, the scattered soldiers converged like rivers flowing into a sea, and within moments, the forest floor was teeming with troops.

"Frontline fighters to the vanguard! Rangers on the flanks! Archers in the center! Spellcasters at the rear! Cavalry, patrol the outskirts, but stay within sight!" 

Omsk took charge, his booming voice directing the chaotic assembly into a disciplined formation. 

As the most experienced in multi-unit coordination, Omsk's commands were efficient and precise.

"What an opportunity! Too bad Elandor isn't here. A dragon-tongue spell bombardment would be perfect!" Rynar sighed, his gaze fixed on the ominous fortress of Dol Guldur. 

The Nazgûl seemed to have no intention of engaging the allies outside the walls. From where Rynar stood, not a single Orc soldier was visible atop the fortifications. 

Clearly, they were prepared for a brutal urban battle within the ruins.

"They've abandoned the outer walls? Excellent! Attack immediately!" Thranduil's sharp eyes quickly discerned the situation.

"No, Thranduil! Don't be reckless!" Rynar grabbed his arm to stop him.

"What's wrong?" Thranduil frowned, confused.

"We must be cautious. They wouldn't let us cross the walls so easily. They could be lying in ambush! 

Don't forget, the forces of darkness have held this place for years. They've had plenty of time to disrupt our ability to detect them. 

Besides, there are still three Nazgûl hiding in there! Remember the tragedy of Elenthor's king!" Rynar's stern words made Thranduil pause, a shiver running through him.

Elenthor stood silently, staring at the lifeless city. His clenched fists betrayed his inner turmoil. This was a battle for vengeance! 

To be outmaneuvered by his enemies in his domain of expertise had been a humiliation for him and all Star Elves.

"We'll annihilate them!" Elenthor growled, his gleaming curved blade catching the light, sharp enough to sting the eyes.

"Of course. But there's no need to pay a heavy price for their lives, is there?" Rynar cautioned the two Elven kings, his tone calm but firm. 

As for Vanervi? He hadn't brought any troops, so why bother convincing him?

In Rynar's eyes, high-tier combatants could hold their ground long enough for reinforcements. The real danger lay with the ordinary soldiers. 

If they charged recklessly, they wouldn't be easily recalled. It would be either total annihilation or desperate retreats. 

The cost in lives would be catastrophic, especially for the Elves, whose sparse population could ill afford such losses.

"Better safe than sorry, King Elenthor, King Thranduil! Think of your people!" 

Dwarf leader Balin added. The Dwarves, having endured countless hardships, shared similar concerns about their dwindling numbers. Every soldier mattered.

"I agree!" Bard raised his hand.

"Same here!" Aranthor gave his sword a slight flourish, adding his voice to the consensus.

The leaders of Aquavia and Dale, both having suffered catastrophic losses in past wars, nodded in agreement. Neither could afford to lose more.

"This will be a grueling battle. We need to proceed carefully. Don't forget, reinforcements from the Orcs could strike us from behind at any moment! 

We can't give them the chance!" Rynar emphasized, unwilling to risk his elite forces, from the Royal Guards to the Elaris Woods Rangers.

"Very well..." Elenthor and Thranduil, seeing the united stance of the leaders, reluctantly conceded.

"Advance!" Omsk raised his lance, pointing towards the dark abyss of Dol Guldur. The blackened fortress stood like a gaping maw, ready to devour the elite expeditionary force.

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