The World of Middle-Earth. A place full of wonder, amazement and the most terrifying of things. From roaming bands of Orcs and bandits, down to the Ringwraiths and those who hunt them. Undead creatures, normal Wraiths, Elves, Men, Dwarves. There is frankly a lot to see in this place if you just go looking... You can always expect to find something hilarious to do nearby...

What I DID NOT EXPECT, HOWEVER, WAS ME BEING FUCKING THROWN HERE AGAINST MY WILL!

There I lay, nice and dead, blood seeping from a spear wound in my throat, a 'piercing' near a strange eagle-shaped silver necklace with Elvish writing on it and a blue gem in the middle... Standing above me is the fucking Uruk that killed me with aforementioned spear... Some rando with green skin, sharp ears, messier teeth than uncle Jo on a Friday night and a face so ugly not even his mo-wait... Fuck that, he was born in a birthing pit, right? Ah, whatever.

You lot are probably wondering whatever the fuck even happened to me to get me here of all places, right?

Well, to rerun through the painful and shitty events of my unwitty and frankly, quite retarded end, I died. IRL. As in 'Natural Causes in my sleep' dead. I more or less had a poor immunity to anything even remotely cough-worthy since I was born. My parents kept me safely sealed in some gobshite 'clean room' (My room) and I was home-schooled since I was young. Thus being a bit of a sour asshole in most of my life even during online games. Now, at 18, when I finally stepped out of my clean room for the first time, TWIDDLE-DEE, TWIDDLE-FUCK-MY-LIFE, I caught a motherfucking Cold! Died in my sleep that night. The only thing I had across my life was games, books and film to keep me company until I wound up online in the friendly circle of some frankly curious, but cool people. Eitherway, the lot pro'lly doesn't even know I died, so there's no need to think they'd mourn my ass. My parents? Well, I dunno. And frankly I stopped giving a shite about the tenth time I died in this world.

I'll tell you folks more about it. Right now, I kinda have to get back on my feet. I swore nonchalantly and groaned in pain as I slowly staggered to my feet, to observe the cave system I died in just hours ago. Uruks trekked around the place, seemingly either discarding my very presence or just relatively not knowing I was here. The cave was a large, granite hidey-hole with several scaffolds, Orc camps and other such trivialities. I was in a dark corner of it all, farthest from the mouth AKA FAR FROM MY ONLY WAY OUT.

Now if I could just stealth my fucking way outta here, I'd be golden. It must've been a good 12 hours as what I saw at the mouth of the cave was pure darkness. I sighed then asked myself in indignation "Of all the sodding alternate universes I could've landed in, why the fuck did it have to be Lord of the Rings, the Prequels games? Fuck freak deaths like that, seriously!" and stood up to my two feet, before crouching behind some explosive barrels and looking at the orcs mucking about.

Several Ologs in chains and the massive fuck-arse loincloths marched through in front of me. Slaves, most likely, hauling 2 by 2 blocks of the explosive barrels. Three of'em, carrying that stuff wound amount to 12 barrels. That'd be one fucking explosion worth days. Too bad I'm not Talion or Celebrimbor to conjure up a fucking ghostbow that can blow the shit out of them. Alas, I'll live with just... Well, living. And getting the fuck out of this cave.

Slowly sneaking around the lugging beasts, I sped my way over to a scaffold covered by animal skin. It had the symbol of the Machine tribe on it. Signage enough I should bug out ASAP. As I continued sneaking past guards and such, keeping to the shadows, I noticed three soldiers of Gondor, clad in dark-blue armors, tied to poles. Fuck me, if I had a sword or something...

Well, shitbaskets, why did I think that...? I saw a sword laying on a rack right next to me. A Gondorian shortsword. I took it from the rack, then moved through some shrubbery to greet the Gondorians. One of the soldiers gasped, cocking his head toward me. I showed him to be quiet, then smirked and whispered "Good evening, my good sir... Could I interest you in some Freedom?" before moving behind him and using the sword to cut the ropes. It took one slice from it to set the Gondorian soldier free, before I moved for the next one and freed him and finally, the last one. The three moved with me to some shrubs and one of them said calmly "Not to sound rude since we appreciate being saved, but who the blazes are you? And what the hell are you wearing?"

I looked down to myself to see I still wore my short-sleeved Iron Maiden T-Shirt and my Jeans, alongside a pair of boots. Guess this kinda clothing's not really natural around the place. I chuckled, rubbed the back of my neck and said "Well, y'see... That's a bit of a long story. And m'name's Cole Andersen. You guys should probably try and get the hell out of here before more Uruks show up."

"What do you mean 'you'...? You're comin' with us, ain't ya?" Asked the second Gondorian. A girl with a bow and arrow quiver on her back. I shook my head and said "I'm the type that doesn't get involved with the big parties unless it's really necessary." leaning on the sword. "I'm keeping ya sword, though... Gonna need something for self-defense."

The Female archer sighed, then looked to her friends and said "Sounds like the boy's in for some deep trouble. To note, the Elven amulet on his neck." before turning back to me. The woman had a helmet that covered almost all of her face, save for a pair of eye slits that allowed her to see through. She had emerald eyes and from what little I could tell, scarlet hair hidden underneath it.

"Looks like it's similar to what the Ranger of the Black Gate got..." Noted the third Gondorian, a swordsman with a heavily-plated helmet.

I nodded, then said "Probably from it, yeah... I mean, doesn't Elf-created stuff all look the bloody same? Eitherway, you lot should go... You've got a long trek to the nearest outpost garrisoned by Gondorians."

"Hope our paths cross again, Cole." The first Gondorian, their sergeant said, extending his hand "Take care of yourself. You're a fellow Man. Don't let these scummy Uruks kill you." words to which I smirked, gripped and shook his hand, then said "I don't plan on it. I'll try and look up the Ranger. See if he'll give me a shelter or something... Or maybe I'll try and hug the walls up to Minas Ithil and leave through the back of the city too, but I've got some unfinished business here."

"Got it. Good luck." The Sergeant nodded, before the three turned to leave, keeping to the shadows. The bow-girl looked back at me, then said "Make sure you come to visit Osigiliath when you get out of this place. I owe you a drink." And she winked at me... I could swear for a moment... I chuckled, watching them leave from the safety of the shrubs... And I fucking froze the moment they disappeared and a shadow lumbered over me.

I gasped, turned around and brought my sword up just in time to parry a strike from the fuck-off massive Uruk in front of me. He had a spear... Oh fuck me...

"Tark! I THOUGHT I KILLED YA!" The bastard Uruk giggled incessantly "Well... We're gonna have to make up for that error on me part, aren't we?!"

"NononoononononononononofuckyouandI'm OUTTA HERE!" I said as I rolled away, jumped to my feet and fucking SKIPPED my way across to the exit of the fucking place. The bastard Uruk, PRAK THE UNBREAKABLE, was still running right behind me. A Machine Assassin... I squeaked as a spear of his rushed past my ear and slammed into a wooden wall, before realizing... OHFUCK WOODEN WALL!

I hit the wall, face-first and grunted in pain, trying to unglue myself from it... I turned around, trembling and wrapped both my hands around the hilt of the shortsword, staring at the incoming massive Uruk with green skin and heavy armor as he approached me with a bloodthirsty grin and an even bloodthirstier look in his eyes. Back against the wall, with an Orc spearman stomping his way toward me and his minions coming in from all sides... This felt fucking familiar.

"What's the matter, Tark? Run out of breath?" He taunted, grinning. "Oh, no worries. I'm gonna make sure you won't need to breathe anymore. In fact, I'll just let me boys handle you while I watch!" and then he let out a hearty, mocking laugh.

"Fuck you!" I could only answer, sweat draping me from head to fucking toe. Hello, death number eleven... Well, at least this time I'll go down fucking SWINGING!

I saw two Uruk peons approach me, rushing me from both sides... I gritted my teeth and focused on the one on my left. He ran toward me, massive fuck-off sword drawn. Taking a stance that looked probably newbish to any actual swordsman, I waited for him to come to me, keeping my eyes on his sword. I spun my sword and, as he got close enough, I finally decided to slash AWAY from his sword. I hit the Uruk right across his chest, sending him reeling... I actually hit something... No time to celebrate! I jumped on the chance and stabbed the bastard HARD in the back, piercing his back, right through to his chest, then lobbing his head off.

I felt the other one's jagged blade cleave across the meat on my back. I groaned in pain, before spinning about and trying to counter a second strike with no success. The second Uruk knocked me off my feet and onto my ass and pinned my left arm to the ground with his foot, before raising the strange barbaric weapon to try and kill me. I swallowed, then closed my eyes and waited for the blow to hit me.

Never came. Actually, I heard the Orc gurgling blood. And felt a smudge land on my face. I opened my eyes, to see a ghastly transparent arrow made of emerald light sticking out of the Uruk's throat. He staggered back, freeing my hand and allowing me to deliver the Gondorian blade's tip(and the rest of it) through his chest, killing him instantly. I watched him fall to the side...

Then looked to see Prak holding his shoulder, a similar emerald arrow sticking out of it. I turned to my right and saw her... A young elven woman with ginger hair and emerald eyes approached me. She wore a light armor of Gondolin and wielded a single curved sword, akin to a Katana from my world, but with the hilt looking like a pair of Dragons dancing around each-other.

"I'd suggest standing up." She said in English. I nodded, pulling myself to my feet and holding my wounds covered... Prak scurried away upon seeing the woman. She gazed upon me, then noted "You're very hurt... Come. I'll take you to a nearby hideout of mine."

"You didn't even buy me dinner first and you want me at your place already..." I quipped... She didn't find it funny. I shook my head and said "It was a joke... Ignore me, I'm a Man, we're a bit off."

"... So I can tell." She noted, before gripping my wrist tightly and moving me quickly out and away.

"Okay, okay, okay, Elf-gal! Before we go any further! Not to sound ungrateful... But" I halted her beside a ledge. "Who the HELL are you?!"

She looked to me like I'd done something wrong. A condescending little prick like every Elf, I presume, is who she is.

I presume. I had no idea how fucking wrong and right I'd be at the same time...