The Tarnished in LOTR with Elden Ring

"Ha. Rogier."

D's voice was a low murmur as he watched his old friend shuffle closer. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his tone sharp. "How much longer are you going to dawdle?"

Rogier's steps finally quickened, and he jogged to join them. He took off his pointed sorcerer's hat, his expression slightly awkward as he greeted D. "Long time no see, Darian."

D looked his old friend up and down, unable to resist a sarcastic retort. "Now you know how to greet me? When you tried to stop me from hunting Those Who Live in Death, your tone wasn't nearly this friendly."

Tarnes half-expected Rogier to get angry, but instead, the sorcerer offered a faint, weary smile. "But when you dragged me, unable to move, from the depths of Stormveil Castle back to the Roundtable Hold, you didn't have any complaints."

"That's because I couldn't stand to see someone die so foolishly from touching the Prince of Death's remains," D shot back.

They continued to bicker, with D's sharp rebukes met by Rogier's polite, indifferent replies.

Their relationship seems pretty good, Tarnes thought, feeling like an intruder. He cleared his throat lightly, cutting into their reunion. "Let me interrupt for a moment. I have a task for both of you."

At the mention of a task, D immediately stopped his verbal assault on Rogier and turned to Tarnes. "Very well. Since you have become Elden Lord and have not betrayed the Golden Order, I am willing to obey your command."

It's not like I haven't betrayed the Golden Order before, Tarnes thought, recalling certain choices made in past cycles. It's just that you and Rogier were both dead at the time, so you wouldn't know. He pushed down his guilty conscience and said seriously, "I need you and Rogier to travel to an abandoned port called 'Tharbad.' You are to investigate the situation there and along the route. If all is well, that place will also become our territory. D, you've probably noticed that this is no longer the Lands Between. Rogier arrived half a month before you; he's familiar enough with this world to explain the basics on your way."

When D heard the mission involved expanding the territory of the Golden Tree, he agreed without hesitation. "I am more than willing to expand the dominion of the Golden Order."

Tarnes glanced at Rogier, who also nodded in agreement. Still, he felt a slight unease. "You two… will you be alright?"

Rogier put his sorcerer's hat back on and smiled faintly. "Although Darian can be stubborn, he is a man who separates his public duties from his private feelings. He will not let the task you assign fail due to personal issues."

"Lord Tarnes, please rest assured," D retorted, not to be outdone. "I will execute your task perfectly while keeping a close eye on Rogier, lest he get distracted by some strange curiosity along the way."

Rogier merely shrugged, saying nothing more.

Their assurances were enough. "Good," Tarnes said, his tone relaxing. "I trust you. You'll depart tomorrow morning. Tonight, attend the welcoming banquet. I've already arranged for provisions and other essential travel supplies."

Rogier extended a hand in an elegant, gentlemanly gesture. "Please, Darian. Before the banquet, allow me to introduce you to Lord Tarnes's territory, and to the Dwarves and Elves who have come to aid us."

As D left with Rogier, Edgar and his daughter, Irena, approached Tarnes. The father and daughter instinctively grew wary as they neared the Lion Guardian standing beside him.

As expected, Tarnes thought, the conflict and prejudice between humans and Misbegotten are not so easily resolved. Misbegotten were similar to Omens, unfortunate throwbacks to the age of the Crucible, but still fundamentally human. They possessed the same intelligence and emotions as anyone else. Yet, in the later era of the Golden Order, the tails, wings, and scales that grew on them were seen as ominous, and they were relegated to the status of slaves.

They were different from the Demi-Humans of Fort Haight, who were another race entirely, generally with lower intelligence. Though even among Demi-Humans, exceptional individuals like the great Queens and the agile Swordmasters could emerge, capable of wielding low-level Glintstone sorcery.

Edgar, leading Irena, did his best to ignore the Lion Guardian and knelt before Tarnes. "I do not know what words to use to praise you, Your Majesty. You have restored my daughter's sight. I am truly filled with emotion."

Irena's nimble eyes, restored by the Golden Grace, blinked charmingly at Tarnes. She gathered her skirt with both hands, crossed her legs, and curtsied.

Tarnes helped Edgar to his feet. "Then pledge your loyalty to me, Edgar. It is your duty to guard the safety of Moen City with your life."

Edgar nodded solemnly. He glanced at the Lion Guardian, hesitated, and then said with grim determination, "Your Majesty, you may scold me for this, but I must advise you: Misbegotten are not reliable. They are not to be trusted."

He had used a pronoun for them that was typically reserved for animals or inanimate objects.

The Lion Guardian showed no reaction. It was as if he had expected such words, and had grown bored of hearing them. The new Elden Lord had summoned him from the Lands Between and bestowed upon him the Golden Grace. He no longer cared what men like Edgar thought. All that mattered was following Tarnes. He simply looked at Tarnes with his leonine face, waiting to hear his lord's response.

But before Tarnes could speak, Roderika, who had been silent behind the Lion Guardian, spoke up. "Sir, I think your attitude towards the Misbegotten is far too prejudiced. I cannot guarantee that all of them are good, but they certainly aren't all bad. Master Hewg, who taught me the art of Spirit Tuning, is one of them."

Hewg gently tugged at her sleeve, subtly shaking his head to signal her to wait.

Edgar looked at the blonde girl in surprise. Seeing her attire, he realized she must be a member of the Golden Tree's nobility. This only confused him further. Shouldn't a noble hate the Misbegotten even more?

"Regarding the Misbegotten," Tarnes said finally, "I will make arrangements so that their presence will not disrupt the lives of the people in this territory. Edgar, I now appoint you as deputy to the current city lord, Nepheli Loux. Assist her in handling all matters in Moen. Nepheli was in the fields outside the castle earlier; you can find her there. With your familiarity with this place, I believe your work together will be very smooth."

Edgar wanted to say more, but he swallowed his words, accepted the appointment, and left with his daughter.

"Whew." Tarnes let out a long breath and turned to Hewg and Roderika. With them, he could relax. A genuine smile touched his face.

Hewg looked at Tarnes, a strange emotion flashing in his eyes. "Do you still need this lowly blacksmith to forge weapons for you, my King?"

An expression of surprise crossed Hewg's aged face as Tarnes gave him a tight hug, holding him for a long moment before releasing him.

"Whether you want to rest or continue forging, you can now choose for yourself, Hewg," Tarnes said with a smile. "There are no shackles on your ankles here, and no orders from Marika to bind your soul. You are free now."

Hewg stood stunned. He raised his rough, broad hands to cover his face, his hunched body trembling slightly. Roderika gently patted his back, silently accompanying the old Misbegotten.

Tarnes waited patiently until Hewg lowered his hands. "I will only ever tinker with iron and ore, Your Majesty," Hewg said. "Please, let me wield my hammer and continue to forge weapons for you."

Tarnes smiled and nodded. "Alright. But this time, I will give you a proper blacksmith's shop, one with no shackles to bind you to a wall. When you feel tired, you can stop, come out for some fresh air, or go back to your room for a good night's sleep."

He then looked at Roderika, who was beaming with happiness for Hewg. "Go on. There are many empty rooms in the castle. You and Hewg can pick two for yourselves."

"Alright, Tarnished," the girl replied cheerfully. She knew Tarnes had important matters to discuss with the Lion Guardian and sensibly left with Hewg.

Now, only Tarnes and the Lion Guardian remained under the Golden Tree. The relaxed smile faded from Tarnes's face, replaced by a calm, steady gaze. The Lion Guardian lowered his furry head, listening attentively.

"Do you have anything to say about what Edgar said earlier?" Tarnes asked.

The Lion Guardian shook his head. "I understand the prejudice normal people have against us. In their eyes, not long ago we were still slaves to be slaughtered."

"Are you not afraid that I, too, might be prejudiced against you?" Tarnes asked.

The Lion Guardian's mouth formed a smile. "Your attitude towards Hewg, and the Grace you bestowed upon my kin, have already shown me that you are different."

"Hewg showed me kindness," Tarnes said. "And Grace can be bestowed, but it can also be taken away."

The Lion Guardian was silent for a moment, then countered softly, "But we Misbegotten have already lost everything. Even our former glory was stripped from us. Great Elden Lord, no matter what arrangements you make, how much worse could it be than our time in the Lands Between?"

Tarnes took a straight-bladed Misbegotten Greatsword from his spatial pack and plunged it, scabbard and all, into the golden grass. "Take it. Lead your kin and take responsibility for the security outside Moen City. After Rogier and D return with news from Tharbad, you will come with me. That will be your new home."

The Lion Guardian extended a long, strong hand, caressed the hilt, then gripped it tightly, pulling the greatsword from the grass. He slung it onto his back and bowed his tall, red-furred body to Tarnes.

Half a month later, southeast of Minhiriath, Rogier and D appeared in the long-untrodden lands near Tharbad.

"Another ruin destroyed by flood," Rogier said, looking at a small, half-submerged town overgrown with green vegetation. "The floods this land has suffered are far worse than we imagined."

D, slowed by his armor, caught up. A strong voice came from under his helmet. "Remember to mark it on the map, Rogier. By the way, how many ruins have we passed now?"

Rogier took out a pen and map from his pack. They had been meticulously recording everything they saw—jungles, swamps, and abandoned towns. It was why they had spent half a month on the road and still hadn't reached their destination.

He counted the house symbols drawn on the map. "This is the eighth town ruin. Darian, do we need to go inside this time as well?"

D nodded without hesitation. "Of course. Lord Tarnes ordered us to investigate the route. We have to go in. Besides, with more than half of these ruins submerged, there are bound to be those undead creatures we encountered before. We must eradicate them."

Rogier sighed and pointed to the map. "I need to correct you again, Darian. According to the map Lord Tarnes gave me and the annotations on it, the monsters we encountered are an evil creature from Hobbit folklore called a 'Mewlip,' not the Deadborn. It's impossible for Deadborn to exist here. The reason they are born is…"

D cut him off. "Oh, save your long lectures, Rogier! I don't care what those monsters are called. As long as they are evil, they will not escape the judgment of the Golden Order!"

(End of Chapter)

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