LOTR: Bringing an MC System to Middle-Earth

A shadow flickered into being, tall, cloaked, and barely more than a smudge in the air, as if the world itself hesitated to recognize its presence.

"Nazgûl," Gandalf said grimly.

The creature responded with an inhuman shriek, a soul-scouring wail that could have erupted straight from the depths of Mordor. Then it lunged.

Eric and Gandalf moved instantly. The wizard ducked low, his robes sweeping out behind him, while Eric slipped sideways like a ghost, narrowly avoiding the strike.

A loud crack echoed as Gandalf raised his staff, sending a burst of white light into the Nazgûl's chest. It reeled. Eric didn't hesitate. He drew his Elven-forged sword and slashed forward, the blade bursting into flame as it cleaved through shadowy robes.

The Nazgûl howled in agony, fire licking up its form. It staggered, retreating into a pool of shadow.

"Good thing we're both carrying Elven-blessed weapons," Gandalf said. "A normal sword would pass straight through."

Eric nodded, still tense. "Useful tip. Bit late."

"Behind you!"

Eric felt it first, a whisper brushing his ear, a sigh colder than death itself. The air thickened with rot and decay, as though a crypt had exhaled right into his lungs.

[Fear: 5s]

[Wither: 5s]

[Poison: 5s]

"Snap out of it!"

A blinding flash burst from Gandalf's staff, sweeping through Eric's body and cleansing the effects. He shuddered as warmth returned to his limbs. With a growl, he spun around and struck out with his blade.

Too slow. The Nazgûl had already vanished into the dark.

The comforting aura of Gandalf's fire-ring glowed steadily beside him. Courage trickled back into Eric's soul, banishing the lingering dread.

"What was that?" Eric muttered, keeping close to Gandalf.

"The Black Breath," Gandalf replied, eyes scanning the shadows. "A foul curse of the Nazgûl. It sickens the mind and body. If you're struck by a Morgul blade while under its influence and left untreated, you'll slowly fade into a wraith yourself. I suspect those barrow-wights we encountered earlier suffered the same fate."

Eric clenched his jaw. "Fantastic."

They were no longer merely alert. They were hunting and hunted. Every flicker of shadow, every gust of wind, became suspect.

Eric wasn't used to feeling vulnerable. Ever since crafting his full Netherite armor set, he'd felt like a walking fortress. But this fight reminded him, no matter how tough your gear is, you can't block a scream that shatters your thoughts or a curse that crawls into your lungs.

"Time for some real wizardry," he said, glancing at Gandalf.

Gandalf didn't disappoint. He raised his staff, murmuring ancient words that prickled across Eric's skin.

"Let the darkness be revealed!"

A pulse of radiant light burst outward, more potent than any detection spell Eric had seen. It swept across the courtyard and revealed them.

Nine.

Nine Nazgûl, forced into visibility by the spell, shrieked in rage as their spectral forms were exposed to the world.

Eric didn't waste the opportunity. He charged forward, flame-blade blazing, and delivered two rapid strikes to the nearest Nazgûl. His sword cleaved through ethereal armor and set the wraith ablaze.

That one was gone. Dissolved into the air like smoke.

But they didn't die. Gandalf had warned him. The Nazgûl were tethered to the One Ring. They had no mortal forms to kill, only shells to shatter. Their spirits would return.

Gandalf followed up with a thunderous blast that staggered another, but it merely vanished into the shadows once more, biding its time.

The remaining seven moved swiftly. Three targeted Gandalf. Four stalked toward Eric.

Thanks to the power of the fire-ring, their Black Breath held no sway. No poison. No fear. No curses. But their blades were another matter.

These were once kings, mighty rulers of men. Their strength and skill in combat had not faded. Though enslaved to darkness, their warrior instincts were still lethal.

Eric fought with razor-sharp focus. He parried, ducked, and struck, keeping the four Nazgûl at bay. His swordplay, honed through countless battles and boosted by combat potions, allowed him to hang on by a thread.

Then it happened.

The tallest Nazgûl let out a shriek so piercing that Eric's mind reeled. The sound tore through his thoughts like a dagger. He staggered.

A Morgul blade flashed.

CLANG!

His armor held, but barely. The cursed sword slipped past the chest plate's edge and slashed across his side.

[-3]

[Wither: 5s]

[Morgul Poison: ∞]

The pain was bearable. The curse wasn't.

A shard of the Morgul blade had broken off inside the wound. Darkness spread from it like ink in water. Eric's chest tightened, and his vision blurred.

He stumbled back. "What is this stuff?"

"Eric!" Gandalf roared, sending a shockwave toward the Nazgûl, knocking it away.

Eric struck again blindly and managed to connect. The flames flared up, driving the creature into the darkness.

"Run!"

Gandalf didn't need to say it twice. Eric sprinted after him, popping the cork off a bottle of Minecraft milk mid-run and chugging it down.

Instantly, his status cleared. The poison, curse, and withering vanished. His mind snapped back into clarity.

"Wait-whoa!"

THUD!

A massive hammer slammed into the ground where they'd just been. Orcs surged forward, weapons raised.

At their head stood a pale-skinned, brutal figure in iron armor. Azog.

"You again," Eric groaned. "Didn't I crush you last week?"

Azog sneered. "Today you die, human."

"You talk too much."

Eric narrowly dodged another hammer blow, then traded several strikes with the Pale Orc. Azog grunted in frustration. This human was stronger than before.

Snarling, Azog backed off and barked a command. "All of you! Kill them!"

Eric saw the orcs closing in, rows upon rows of iron-armored soldiers. The Nazgûl emerged again, some on ledges, some behind the crowd, watching silently.

"Time to go full Minecraft," Eric muttered, pulling out a golden apple and chewing it like a snack.

He followed up with several potions: speed, strength, regeneration. All tier two. He'd been saving them for emergencies. This counted.

[Speed II]

[Strength II]

[Regeneration II]

He flexed his fingers. He could probably punch a troll through a wall now.

"Eric, to me!" Gandalf called, reaching out.

Eric hesitated. He was itching to see how many orcs he could flatten.

But Gandalf didn't wait. He grabbed Eric's cloak.

FLASH!

A burst of white light consumed them, and the battlefield vanished.