The Armies March
Rilla the White
Lord of Isengard
The New Year's Eve party was a disaster, Rilla the White decided. The powerful wizard had had a bit too much to drink and blacked out, unfortunately, and was quite surprised to wake up in Orthanc among his Uruk-Hai warriors who, after administering some questionably legitimate hangover medication, informed him that Rohan had declared war on him and that the entirety of Middle-Earth was preparing for a great confrontation between good and evil. Rilla vaguely remembered someone getting upset over an embarrassing photo, but he couldn't remember if that was Denethor, Steward of Gondor, or Joffrey, king of an entirely different kingdom on an entirely different continent. No matter, he decided. There was work to be done.
He summoned his best generals to Orthanc and bid them come with haste. There was Toellner, lord of the Uruk-Hai, his lieutenant, Ace, and Jster, chief of Dunland and the clansmen of those hills. They sat around a large table, discussing the events that precipitated the oncoming war and the best course of action given the fact that Rohan, and winter, was coming.
"Vivian Latreal, Queen of Rohan, says that her boob fell out in one of the photos the King of Rhun took, I think his name's Mammoth or something," Jster said. Jster had been there briefly, but had left to fuck a shaggy clanswoman. Rilla the White could not be surprised, for Jster was a known poonhound, no matter how low that title entailed him to sink. Rilla crossed his arms and frowned.
"I don't see how that concerns me. Why doesn't she just go attack Rhun?"
"I believe it's because you had Mammoth send you the picture before she could make him delete it from his phone," Ace interjected. Rilla checked his text messages from the night before. Indeed, the Queen of Rohan's boob was clearly visible. Her nipple was oddly shaped.
"It almost looks like a pear or something," Rilla commented absently. "Never mind that now, though," he said, slipping the phone back into the folds of his robes. "The Queen of Rohan is angry and coming with soldiers. We'll need to prepare for this war in order to win it. Wars are won via production, which means we need to take the economic advantage. Jster, Ace, I want you to build up our defenses at Duneard and Byrig. Ramp up our food production, our trade goods, and our military installations. Toellner, there's a small settlement in Fangorn. Independent traders, woodcutters, and foresters led by a man called Ricbert. Take six hundred soldiers, kill them all, and take the settlement for Isengard. Herzi? Where's Herzi?" Herzinth, Rilla's best diplomat, stepped forward from the back of the room. Herzi Wormtongue, they called him.
"Yes, my lord?"
"I want you to go to the Silvan Elves, attempt to work out some kind of trade deal, maybe figure out a bit more about what happened last night. The entire world is going to war and I want to know why, understood?"
"Understood, my lord," Herzinth said, and exited stage left.
"Good. You have your orders, generals. Get to work!"
Lord of the Uruk-Hai
Toellner and his Uruk-Hai warriors
Toellner was a cruel general, even among the Uruk-Hai. This small, unnamed settlement on the edge of Fangorn Forest would see no survivors live to tell tales of his brutality. His men were aching for blood, and their howls and screams could be heard in the houses and shops of the settlement. The women and children huddled in their homes while the men armed themselves with what little they had in order to mount a defense of their village. Toellner was unconcerned, save for their archers. Many of their foes made their living as huntsmen, and while Isengard had its own archers, a unit of Snaga, they were no match for the expert shots that were waiting to let an arrow or two fly against the Uruks.
But suffering casualties was not something that particularly bothered Toellner, Lord of the Uruk-Hai.
The village had no walls to speak of, and over six hundred Uruk-Hai, Dunlendings, and Snaga archers were ready to lay waste to its defenders. Toellner thrust his cruel dark iron blade in the air and howled the command. Without much convincing, the six-hundred plus strong army charged into battle. Toellner watched from afar, just outside the range of the arrows.
The battle was surprisingly fierce, as the men of Fangorn gave a spirited defense against the Uruk-Hai invaders. Ricbert, their noble leader, inspired them and kept their spirits aloft despite the numbers heavily favoring the White Hand. The huntsmen's arrows flew true, killing too many of Toellner's soldiers for comfort and threatening the battle. As the battle wore on, Toellner grew furious. He had been holding back two of his three units of Uruk-Hai warriors, nearly half the entire battle force, and it was costing him. Even when Ricbert was struck down by the blades of the Uruks, and after the Snaga archers had taken their toll on the huntsmen and light infantry, the defenders pressed on, determined to defend their homes. Toellner pulled a horn from his belt and blew twice, sounding the command for the rest of the army to move in.
They moved in, and before long, the men of Fangorn had been butchered to the last. The battle came at some cost, however. Nearly two hundred of Toellner's men fell, far more than necessary. Had he been more careful, and had he not underestimated his opponents, a two pronged attack may have saved his army scores of casualties.
Lord Ricbert and his men attempt to defend their homeland from the Uruk-Hai and Dunlending invaders.
The battle rages on in the next chapter.