MeowthTL
patreon
Lotr: Playing Minecraft in Middle-earth - 269
🕑 Added 2025-10-11 17:48:05 +0000 UTCChapter 269: Rising Tensions
Year 2954: Mount Doom, silent for so long, erupted with violent fury once more. Scalding lava flowed down its blackened slopes as massive amounts of choking ash rose into Mordor's perpetually darkened skies.
From then on, Mount Doom erupted frequently. People living near Mordor, from high ground looking east, could always see ominous crimson light pulsing and rolling black smoke billowing upward like a beacon of coming war.
That same year, Ithilien's last desperate batch of refugees migrated into Gondor's safer interior lands. From then on, only Gondor's and Mordor's soldiers remained on this contested ground—it had truly become disputed territory stained with blood and ash.
During this final refugee evacuation, Levi came to Gondor once more. He came both to investigate after being deeply alarmed by Mount Doom's reawakening and to personally check on the forward base's conditions while providing cover for the refugees' perilous retreat.
Since he was there anyway, Levi simply helped Gondor repair the ruined city of Osgiliath's crumbling walls and the great arched bridge once used for vital passage across the Anduin.
Due to Levi's remarkable speed and efficiency, by the time official news reached Gondor's capital, he had nearly finished half the walls single-handedly.
To demonstrate proper appreciation, Ecthelion personally departed from the White City to express thanks, then dispatched his son—the current White City Commander Denethor—to assist Levi's ongoing work.
This tall, proud young commander followed Levi's instructions completely, not hesitating even a second when told to undertake any task.
With Gondor's full and enthusiastic cooperation, before long the walls stood as good as new and the arched bridge could function normally once again.
Armies marched in formation above, while ships—mainly Roadside Keep merchant vessels and graduated crews from the maritime academy on trial voyages—shuttled smoothly through the bridge's stone openings below.
After completing these considerable tasks, Levi departed without once mentioning compensation or reward.
He felt almost as much at home in Gondor as he did in Roadside Keep.
When Levi returned to Roadside Keep, it was precisely when the apprentice Rangers from two years prior were finally graduating.
During the formal ceremony, Levi personally pinned medals on the chest of each excellent Ranger graduate.
Excellent Ranger selection quotas were not rigidly fixed—anyone who truly made outstanding contributions with sufficient demonstrated personal ability could be recommended by their peers.
Of course, recommendation standards were not casually low. The primary requirement was genuine recognition and respect from other team members who fought beside them.
Also, excellent Ranger medals were not only obtainable during apprenticeship alone. Rangers who made outstanding contributions during subsequent long service careers or proved themselves truly capable and battle-hardened through years of experience could also receive the coveted recognition.
However, wanting to obtain this prestigious medal in the short term required making quite a remarkable achievement that could not be ignored.
Take Aragorn—he received formal recommendation only after soloing a Hill-troll and proving exceptional personal combat prowess, infiltrating enemy orc camps alone to bring back vital intelligence despite terrible danger, and then devising clever strategies to lead just dozens of Rangers in surprising a fortified mid-sized camp of at least two hundred orcs and emerging victorious.
What he had accomplished far exceeded normal standards—half those deeds would suffice for excellent Ranger recognition.
But clearly, Aragorn was not some cautious rule-follower person content with minimum effort. He always made unexpectedly bold moves that left others shaking their heads in amazement.
Compared to his extraordinary deeds, the other four recipients perhaps fell slightly short in sheer audacity, but all were thoroughly worthy—either exceptionally strong and agile in combat, possessing other outstanding tactical qualities, or having participated in enough dangerous battles with accumulated distinguished achievements that spoke for themselves.
"Well done, Thorongil."
Levi finally pinned Aragorn's medal to his chest, asking with genuine interest, "How about it? Any plans for the future? Want to continue staying with us? With your considerable abilities you could directly lead a full two-hundred-man assault team. Work a few more years with distinction and maybe become a territorial commander."
Honestly, hearing these tempting conditions laid out, Aragorn visibly hesitated for two full seconds.
Being a military commander here meant almost no one could manage you except Levi himself—tremendous freedom and authority.
Of course, territorial military commanders were strictly selected from proven warriors—they wouldn't need to do anything requiring administrative management anyway.
"This place is wonderful, truly," Aragorn began carefully, "but there are other places that need my help more urgently."
"Good man."
Levi gripped his shoulder firmly with approval. "Then go where you are needed. But come back anytime—you will always have a home here."
After speaking, he turned Aragorn bodily to face his assembled teammates.
Yawen, also wearing an excellent medal proudly—Aragorn's team captain for two hard years—walked over with a broad smile. "I know you don't truly belong here long-term, but this place can always be your home when you need it."
They embraced tightly like brothers.
That evening, the entire squad gathered to send Aragorn off properly with food, drink, and fond farewells.
Aragorn looked at these loyal comrades who had bled beside him, quite visibly moved by their genuine affection.
"I will never forget our shared experiences together, nor what I learned here from all of you."
He raised his eyebrows at Yawen in their practiced gesture.
Yawen couldn't help raising his eyebrows back with a laugh.
"That is all you learned from me?"
Isengard stood changed from a year ago when the White Council had last convened.
Most obviously, far more guards now patrolled the tower's grounds. At Isengard's southern entrance—the fortified wall and massive iron gate controlling the valley's open plain—extensive reinforcements had been added with fresh stonework.
Its master seemed to be preparing for something.
"Orcs."
"Filthy and ignorant creatures, without the slightest merit, like common vermin, utterly useless for any higher purpose."
At night, at a dark forest edge, a conspicuous white figure stood on high ground, looking down with unconcealed contempt at the bowing orc group cowering below.
"Things like you also presume to serve me?"
Saruman regarded those orcs with visible disgust, twisting his features.
"We can swear, swear absolute loyalty to you!" The orc leader prostrated himself desperately in the dirt.
"Your will is our only goal. Whatever you command us to do, we will do without question, as long as you shelter us from..."
While making profuse promises, the orc leader felt bitter inside.
Those damned savage Dunlendings said the White Wizard would accept us—a bunch of lying scum!
"Do anything I command?"
Just then, an unexpected turn appeared in Saruman's cold words.
"Even openly defy the Dark Lord's direct commands?"
The orc leader's entire body went rigid with primal fear.
Though Sauron was nominally master of all orcs and wargs across Middle-earth, compared to Mordor's native-born orcs, his iron control over the Misty Mountains tribes was not nearly so absolute and unbreakable.
The crucial difference was that Mordor's internal leaders were only leaders if Sauron personally acknowledged and elevated them, but Misty Mountains orcs could spawn independent leaders through strength alone. Even if these leaders grew strong enough, they could bargain with Sauron to some limited extent.
Sauron directly controlled Mordor orcs like puppets but only indirectly influenced this side through fear and promises.
Their mental imprints were not so deeply, unbreakably solid.
"We are willing to serve only you, master."
The orc leader made his desperate decision.
Sauron is too far away across impassable mountains to truly shelter us from immediate threats, but Saruman stands right here offering protection.
"Hmph, looking at it this way, perhaps you are not completely useless after all."
"Go now, live in dark places I will show you. You must execute all my orders without question, and places I explicitly forbid—you cannot touch even slightly or approach. Do you understand me perfectly?"
"We understand completely, master."
The orcs departed with unusual discipline, melting back into shadow.
Saruman watched those departing orcs, his eyes narrowing with calculating thought.
Now both the Dunlendings and nearby orc tribes served him loyally.
Dunlendings obeyed Saruman because he deliberately ignored their aggressive encroachment on Rohan's border territory, allowing them free passage through Isengard to cross borders at will, even quietly supporting them to "reclaim their ancestral land" through raids.
As for the orcs, they received Saruman's direct shelter and supplies, working for him in absolute secret.
Of course, neither Dunlendings nor orcs would dare extend their malice toward Eriador or any lands west of the Misty Mountains—that was strictly forbidden.
They would step onto Rohan's vulnerable territory under the righteously appealing banner of "revenge" and "reclaiming stolen homeland."
Border disputes were about to ignite into violence.
***
A thousand years ago, the land called Rohan was not originally an independent nation at all but belonged entirely to Gondor as a northern province, then called Calenardhon. At that time, Dunlendings were also nominally vassals owing fealty to Gondor's powerful kingdom.
Until Gondor's royal bloodline ended in tragedy and fire, Gondorians living on Calenardhon's distant lands gradually decreased in number, concentrating eastward much closer to Gondor's capital. Correspondingly, Dunland border garrison forces also steadily decreased until barely present.
So Dunlendings frequently crossed borders with impunity, migrating into Calenardhon's emptying lands, occupying fertile territories as their own.
Until the devastating Balchoth invasion threatened to destroy everything, when Gondor nearly fell entirely, the Rohirrim's ancestors—the proud Éothéod people—came riding from the distant north and saved Gondor from utter annihilation.
Finally, as a reward, Calenardhon was granted to the Éothéod by Gondor's grateful Steward, even allowing them to establish an independent allied nation—thus Rohan appeared newly on maps.
Later the Rohirrim discovered so many Dunlendings of unclear origin already living in this granted place. The king issued firm orders, and the Dunlendings were forcibly expelled across the border.
From that bitter day forward, Dunlendings called Rohirrim "robbers and thieves" who stole their rightful homeland.
