Rising Of The Black Tide

Page 6

Gonifred robbed of all energy let his sword drop to the ground. Then a rumbling started from the deep and black smoke began to come from Mordorath’s body, there was a flash and then where Mordorath’s body had been there was nothing.
The smoke in the air took the shape of Mordorath, and his voice shook the ground like thunder and was so powerful that it threw everyone to the ground. Mordorath facing Gonifred, dripping venom from his mouth said, “One day I will regain shape again, and I will regain my power, and I will become so powerful that nothing can kill Me.” and with that Mordorath gave an ear splitting screech and his shadow fled to a deep place to regain strength.

Mordorath’s army was now thrown into chaos. Scattering like ants they fled to caves and crevices deep within the mountains. All that was left was Mordorath’s two captains, they had two small red jewels set in their crowns, they glared at EMAD’s, then the jewels in their crown glowed fiery red and then they turned and fled to their master who was waiting for them.

A great cheer broke out amongst the alliance, Gonifred’s father king Thundil made his way through the cheering people to where his son lay. His son was so weary from the battle with Mordorath that he had fallen into a deep sleep. Thundil called men over with a stretcher to bear Gonifred off the battlefield to his tent to tend his wounds. Thundil lingered over Mordorath’s crown they would have to decide what they would do with it. He bent down to pick it up, it was still hot. He wrapped his hands in his cloak and picked it up, covering it with his cloak he followed after his son. He would hold a meeting tomorrow with the other kings. That night there would be a celebration to honor his son and for the victory of the war. When he got back to the tent he found his son already up, such were the remarkable recovery abilities of an elf, but he was still very weary. He dismissed everyone from the tent so that his son could rest.

That night there was a party, there was ale and music and the men made merry long into the night.
The next day King Thundil held a meeting with the other kings about what was to be done about Mordorath and his crown. Although Mordorath’s body had been defeated, and his armies scattered, and the dragon hid deep within his lair, waiting for the return of his master. Mordorath’s spirit had endured and it lived because of the jewel, it was just a matter of time before Mordorath grew powerful enough to start another war. Although he wouldn’t be able to take shape again until he had the jewel. He could still start another war for total dominance of the lands of Arnor.
Now the problem was what to do with the jewel. It was obvious that the jewel was a great source of power, so a dwarven king suggested. “Use its power”.
An elf king argued that it would be too dangerous to use and there would be war as to who could use it. So he wanted to destroy it but no-one know how. Some of the kings supported the dwarf king’s idea and others supported the elf king and others came up with their own opinions. But no one could agree on any until an old wizard who had been invited to attend the council, and until now had just been watching both sides of the debate, rose to his feet and said "How about we bury it".
King Thundil stopped and turned to the wizard and so did the rest of the kings.
“And what will that gain us?” asked a king, “how will that stop Mordorath?”
“If we bury it deep to stop any one finding it, then we could cast spells of sleeping over it and Mordorath would sleep until we find a way to destroy it”.
“Why not decide that here and now” argued one of the kings.
“Well we are not going to decide that in this meeting and this will buy us as much time as we need to find a way with out worrying about Mordorath”.

King Thundil knew it was not wise to go against the advice of wizards. He slowly nodded his head and one by one more kings agreed to that term of action. So after returning in triumph to each of their lands the kings gathered again deep within a mountain, and there they hid the jewel and cast spells over it to keep Mordorath in an enchanted sleep until they found a way to destroy it. But a way was not found and in the many years of peace that followed Mordorath’s defeat many people forgot. The tunnel was sealed up and the kings forgot the threat and thinking that a way was found, stopped searching. Mordorath slept and his army remained hidden and scattered and Mordorath and his jewel became a story, and the story became legend, and legend became myth, and the jewel which should have been destroyed was not and Mordorath whose life force was now bound to the jewel slept, but still lived and it would just be a matter of time before the jewel was uncovered and Mordorath would awaken.