Chronicles and Tales of Middle Earth

A short extract I wrote in English class on Minas Tirth, the City of Kings, from Lord of The Rings.

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1. The White City

A hill lays there; green and cold, enveloped in a thick and seemingly endless fog. Soon, a break in the fog reveals a glorious city, built upwards the mountain in shimmering white stone; an image of splendor to all those lucky enough to gaze upon it. The Pelennor Fields shall soon become witnessed to the greatest battle ever to befall Middle-Earth, and few who will fight against Sauron's malice will return home.

Birds litter the skies, flying in graceful formation, like a collection of fireworks; so calm and collected, they pierce through the dark clouds that lie above the land of Mordor, where the shadows lie. The people of the Steward live in the White City. Content. Quite content to live their lives in peace, knowing they are well protected. A white tree, bearing no fruit, nor leave of any kind, sits perched atop the very highest ground.

Soon. Soon will comes the days that the courage of men is restored. When the heir of Elendil shall come forth to banish evil from Middle-Earth for good. Soldiers march the town; echoes of their iron and steel-clad footsteps fill the ears of the ever watchful city folk. Many children look upon them in awe.

The White Wizard they call him. Mithrandir. He is one of the Istari, sent by the Valar to aid in the battle against the Dark Lord; a Maiar, who primarily serves Eru Ilúvatar. They say he sits atop a beautiful white horse; his deep and reassuring voice, like a politician's. He comes in times of need, when all hope seems lost. He is a beacon; a leader to all. By his side, he wields Glamdring, the Foe to Morgoth's realm, and Hammer to the Orcs; an immensely sharp blade, capable of ripping through the armor of an Orc effortlessly. 

This is the realm of man, and soon will it be restored to it's former glory. 

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