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Lotr: Playing Minecraft in Middle-earth - 340
🕑 Added 2025-11-24 20:49:42 +0000 UTCChapter 340: I Do Not Understand
“How can there be such a terrible creature, Gollum…”
While Levi was ranging deeper into the caverns in search of Shelob, Gollum seized his chance and bolted for the surface.
“We cannot go back, Gollum… the filthy Orcs at the gate have betrayed the Dark Lord. If they catch us, we will not get away. They will hand us to him, Gollum…”
“We must run the other way. Mordor… beside that man, Mordor is safer, Gollum…”
After a muttered parley with his other self, Gollum turned east without hesitation and scrambled out of the pass, down onto the blackened plain.
So at last he truly entered Mordor.
“Cough, cough…”
The moment he stepped inside, he could not help but hack.
The land was foul beyond belief. The very air was poisoned. Only the creatures of darkness could stand it.
“Still better than being killed, Gollum…” he muttered, and began hunting a hidden nook to crouch in.
As he stumbled along, a vast rock suddenly blocked his way.
“Stupid stone, in our way too!”
He kicked it.
Just as he turned to go around, the “rock” moved.
It stood up.
“Ah?”
The black-skinned Troll stared down at the little thing capering by his feet, completely at a loss.
“A snack walking in by itself?”
He snatched Gollum up in one claw.
“No, no, do not eat us! We are nasty, full of worms, gollum, big worms, longer than your arm!” Gollum shrieked.
That did the trick.
“Ugh. Off with you!”
The Troll flung him away, face twisted in disgust.
The throw nearly killed him.
“What is all this racket?”
While Gollum was still swearing in his heart and staggering to flee, a voice barked behind him.
An Uruk captain strode up.
“Hm?”
His eye fell at once on the skinny creature by the Troll’s feet.
“Not one of the lesser Orcs. Not any beast I know…”
“Then there is only one answer.”
“A spy from outside!”
“Take him!” he roared. “Drag him to camp for the boss to question!”
“No—”
Gollum’s wail rang out again.
Out of the spider’s lair and into the Orc den.
His life was not going to get any better.
…
Another fortnight passed.
Crunch.
Boot and greave ground on dead stone.
“How did I end up out here?”
Standing at the exit of the Cirith Ungol pass, Levi stared in mild confusion at the land of Mordor spread before him.
Shelob was nowhere to be found. Instead, he had walked straight into Mordor.
The spider was far better at hiding than he had thought.
And very good at spinning webs.
In the branching tunnels deep beneath Cirith Ungol, every way was strung with thick, close-woven webs. Some were long and old; others were new and fresh, still sticky with blood.
New web and old, snarl of tunnel and shaft—together they had almost lost him in the dark.
At least…
He looked back.
A rectangular opening, a man wide and twice as tall, gaped in the grey mountainside.
With the paths below too confusing to care about, he had simply cut his own way out.
And so…
“Man?”
A patrol of Orcs came by chance and saw him standing there on the bare ground, lost in thought.
At the cry of the sharpest-eyed among them, Levi turned his head.
“No. No, no!”
The instant they saw his face, the Orcs’ eyes bulged in horror, their voices shaking.
Booom—
Moments later, the war-horns on Mordor’s borders sounded. Garrison after garrison poured out of the Tower of Cirith Ungol. The two evil Watchers carved by the gate gave a piercing scream that carried as far as the Dark Tower and stirred the Eye at its height.
That had done it.
Levi winced inwardly.
Boom!
Scarlet flared within the Dark Tower. A thick beam of light punched into the sky, parting the cloud. All of Mordor saw the warning.
In an instant, the land went to full alert.
Over Minas Morgul, a lightning-flash of sickly green split the cloud. It was the Witch-king’s answer to the Dark Tower.
Soon, a host of tens of thousands of Orcs, with thousands of Trolls and great beasts, came trampling along the smooth roads of Mordor towards the pass. Five Nazgûl on winged monsters flew above them.
The muster's speed was something to see.
Even so, no matter how fast the gathering, no matter how fierce the army, it took time to march.
By the time the host reached Cirith Ungol, many days had gone by.
They halted in silence beneath the tower. The Nazgûl who led them, and Sauron watching from afar, were full of doubt.
The expected army of the Free Cities, or any lurking threat, was nowhere to be seen.
He had gone.
The pass-fortress of Cirith Ungol had been swept clean and left empty. The two watchful statues by the gate lay smashed.
There was nothing else.
“What was he trying to do?”
Sauron brooded over the question and found no answer.
Alone, Levi had walked into Mordor, toppled a border-fortress, and destroyed the only guards that could tell friend from foe.
Then he had left.
That was all.
Why?
Was he simply bored?
“No. There must be more to it,” Sauron said to himself.
He thought of the calm, sea-deep eyes he had seen the last time he crossed wills with Levi. A mind as subtle as his would never do something so simple without reason.
There must be meaning under it all.
After a while, one of the Nazgûl received his orders.
“The Master says we are not to withdraw. Make camp. The army is to stay in place for a time.”
“How long, we will be told later.”
So Mordor’s western border became stronger than ever, watched and warded to the utmost.
The stir did not escape Denethor.
He called a council on the spot and summoned troops from every fief.
Soon, Gondor too was on a war footing.
The air crackled like a powder keg. It felt as if the smallest spark would set off war.
“Uncle, do you have any idea what Mordor is about?” Denethor asked.
In the great hall of Gondor, he sat frowning in thought.
Levi stood at his side, a visiting guest.
His hands were clasped behind his back. His face was grave.
“I… do not understand,” he said at last, slowly shaking his head.
He could not make sense of how a simple outing had turned into such a storm.
Out of Denethor’s sight, the hands behind his back were rubbing together so fast they might have struck sparks.
