King Thrag

"So," I grinned, "what do you want to do? I'm here, baby. I'm ready, baby. I am… patiently…waiting… on you."

(Thrag's lines come from various Barry White songs. He also sounds like Barry White in my head, so winning.)

I don't recommend the acrobatic fighting styles. You need elite athleticism to do anything more than make a fool of yourself. Elven grace makes it viable, and Eltariel puts her lighting quick and feather light footwork and flexible and dexterous body to use bouncing around me trying to slip her razor sharp curved shortswords into the 'gaps' in my armor.

She quickly proved her worthiness as Galadriel's personal assassin, displaying blistering reaction speed and tremendous fight IQ to go with movements impossible to fighters without supernatural grace.

Pair all this with centuries, maybe millennia of experience and training and we arrive at a wonderful lithe little problem for me to apply my favorite arts to. It started with me shifting so her strikes always land on the thick plates of my armor, and moved to me managing distance with a few frightfully swift cuts from my curved greatsword. All the while working a subtle curse of weakness and fatigue over her.

She caught a kick coming in between my sword swings and contorted her chest to absorb the strike as best she could.

"You got it together." I smiled, "Oh, you got it together, baby. There's many times I've loved, made love and shared love. They tell me I'm damn good."

Eltariel deflected the next swing and passed under the blade while stabbing with her other sword, but the raw difference in our heights paired with the near dagger length of her swords meant she came into range of my back hand before I came in range of her lunge.

The She-elf rolled back up to her feet quickly and winced as she ran a finger over her split brow to clear some blood from her eye.

"Look what you got me doing." I shook my head in disappointment, "Girl, if only I could make you see, make you understand. I mean really, when you really sit and think about it. You're playing a game. It's just so plain. You want me to win."

"Stop with the… what ever it is you are doing and fight me!" Eltariel shouted fired several golden ethereal arrows while executing a black flip.

I brushed off the fairy dust that remained of her magic arrows' failure to pierce me and laughed, "We're playing your game, baby. Just you and me. When you give it up, it's only enough. It's only you and me. There so many things I can do to you and so many ways I can please."

"I will destroy you!" she cried and came in for a few more exchanges.

"Well here I am, baby." I chuckled, "Practice what you preach."

"Why are you so aggravating."

"Girl, I'm still waiting." I grinned, "Waiting for… that."

That referred to Talion bringing Sauron to his knees and Celebrimbor convincing the ranger to try dominating the Dark Lord. A mistake swiftly revealed when the Bringer of Gifts pulled a hold out dagger and sliced Talion's fingers off - sending the New Ring flying - and yanked the wraith of Celebrimbor out of the undead man.

Talion's hands went to his throat as his fatal wound once more opened with the spirit of Celebrimbor and the power of the New Ring no longer sustaining him. The Dark Lord pulled the wraith into his being to devore the powerful spirit, but staggered as his mistake became apparent to him.

At full power, Sauron could handily consume the spirit to hasten his return to his full might, but in this weakened state weary from much battle and many wounds, the conflict became far more equal.

Sauron's physical form burst and the Wraith prevented him from taking any other save a burning eye atop Barad Dur. This greatly limited the Maiar's power beyond simple battle, as now he could only communicate through the Palantir and a few precious servants. Even less with the Nazgul so thoroughly dispersed. They could be gone centuries from the beat down by the Balrogs and yours truly.

No more Sauron. No more Witch King. No more Balrogs. No more Celebrimbor. I would miss Talion, but as I took up the New Ring, the magical weight of that band of gold felt like total victory.

Eltariel failed to rouse from the shock of seeing the fates of the Dark Lord and Bright Lord, not enough to stop me from putting that band of gold onto my right index finger. A wave of subtle power pulsed across the land and shifted her gaze to me.

Nakra the Nightblade earned his title when he silently snuck up on an elf assassin and kicked her to her knees before kneeling and holding her there with his great bulk and strength.

"On your knees She-elf." he growled, "That's King Thrag the First Father, Lord of Mordor."

"Well said, boy." I smiled and raised my sword into the air allowing the magic of the New Ring to easily project my voice across the battlefield, "Stop!"

With my word, the tens of thousands of warriors still contesting the field ceased.

"The Dark Lord is slain once more!" I declared, "All hail to the new King of Mordor. All hail to me, Thrag the First Father!"

My natural charm magnified by the power of the New Ring had the chant "Thrag! Thrag! Thrag!" carried by every throat save my own and Eltariel's. The thrum of tens of thousands of voices exalting my name filled me with even headier power than the New Ring.

"Morgoth is defeated! The Age of the Valar is over!" I announced and I pointed my finger over the masses, "Sauron is defeated! The Age of the Maiar is over!"

"Thrag is undefeated!" I shouted and everyone lost their minds roaring in joy, "The Age of the Uruk is here! We are the masters now! Arda is ours to shape as we please!"

The crowd like the sound of that. Even the ones carrying the hardest stiffy for Sauron cheered lest the others find out they aren't on board with the new regime.

"Now boys." I laughed, "I believe we have a giant tower to plunder!"