Transmigrate to the world of The Lord of the Rings?

-General-

The wooden floorboards trembled, and with each minuscule creak, the hearts of the refugee women and children shrank, imprisoned by fear.

"Gwaaaah!"

A guttural roar, followed by the metallic clang of a crash, echoed. The vibration of the brick walls announced the somber omen: a horde of orcs would soon besiege them.

Outside, on the rampart, the guards watched in horror. A dense, dark tide of orcs spread out just meters away, flooding the plain. Fear gripped them, but their hands didn't falter. They had to be strong, to swallow the terror.

"Don't waver, brave warriors! Our families rely on our protection! We cannot fail them!"

Raizan's voice, like thunder, resonated. It awakened the fearful, instilling courage in every heart.

The orcs, their rotten teeth bared, showed their deformed faces, barely hidden beneath rusted helmets. They tried to instill terror in the men, but the desired effect was not what they expected. With a unison grunt, the entire horde began to pound their spears against the muddy ground, creating a metallic symphony. Those without spears struck their swords against their rusty shields.

Raizan observed all this with unwavering serenity. Head held high, he turned to one of the guards.

"Has the oil boiled yet?" he whispered.

"It will be ready in a few minutes, sir."

Nodding, Raizan raised his hand. A simple gesture that activated everyone around him.

"Prepare your bows!"

"Bows ready!"

They only waited for the orcs to approach a few more meters, until the firing range was truly effective. The intense rain and whistling wind made attempts to shoot arrows prematurely useless.

...

On the other side, at the dock, dwarves and brave citizens surrounded the bridges connecting to the port. Their bows were ready, and beside them, steaming cauldrons of fire and oil kept them company. The reason? They planned to launch incendiary arrows to set the orc boats ablaze.

"There it goes!" a dwarf murmured as he tossed several barrels into the sea. They didn't sink; instead, they floated slowly, drifting towards the orc boats.

"The barrels are ready!" he yelled to Thruin.

Thruin nodded and cast a gaze that swept over everyone. Inflating his chest, he accentuated his prominent belly, enhancing his beard in an almost natural act. His thick, powerful voice resonated above the grunts of the orcs.

"Brave warriors, tonight we risk our lives! Those filthy orcs are coming to massacre this city! They think their numbers will overcome us; let's show them they're wrong!"

Enthusiastic cheers made the port's wood tremble, fanning the flame in the hearts of those present. All preparations were made; now it was just a matter of waiting.

…

Everyone held their breath for a few moments, tense with nervousness. In the distance, they could only watch as the orc vessels approached, entering their firing zone. In a few minutes, the first orc ships were within range. Thruin's eyes gleamed behind the torch flames, and with a powerful voice, he gave the order:

"Fire!"

A hellish rain of incendiary arrows lit up the dark sky. Dozens of arrows struck the ships, which slowly began to catch fire. Several orcs fell dead under the tide of arrows, and the few survivors who fell into the sea slowly sank, unable to swim.

Thus began the battle for the port city. The incendiary rain of arrows was the trigger, a scorching prelude that ignited the orc fury. Outside the wall, the horde charged vehemently, like a furious wave crashing against the shore, rushing towards the foot of the imposing wall. However, Raizan and his men were already waiting for them, prepared, a tense calm covering their faces.

Raizan's hand, raised high, descended at the precise moment the orcs reached the proper firing angle. Beside him, the guard issued the resounding order:

"Fire!"

"Fire!"

The order echoed along the entire wall. The guards, with deadly precision, loosened the tension of their bows, firing hundreds of arrows. Like a storm of spikes, these impacted the orcs' iron armor, piercing them and cutting down lives with every hit.

The orcs in the front were cut down without much effort, falling like bundles into the mire. And those who survived the first volley were mercilessly crushed by the unstoppable mass of orcs coming behind, trampled to death in their frantic advance.

The first orc line crumbled, forming a carpet of corpses, but the rest of the tide kept coming, inexhaustible, their roars of pain drowned out by the grunts of those still charging.

The first orcs to reach the foot of the wall struck one of the city gates with their swords and axes, eager to tear it down. What they didn't know was that cauldrons of boiling oil awaited them.

"Pour the oil!"

Seeing the orcs gather in dense numbers, the defenders overturned the cauldrons. With an infernal sizzling sound, the boiling oil drenched most of the orcs besieging the gate and its surroundings. A guttural scream erupted from their mouths as the burning liquid melted their skin.

But this did not stop them for long; the orcs coming behind carried ladders, which they slowly began to climb. At the top of these, a small goblin waited to kill as many as possible and allow the orcs to climb without problem.

"Kill the ladder-bearers! The ones with the ladders!"

…

From the top of a hill a few kilometers from the city, a dark horse stood, neighing at the large number of orcs besieging the port city. Its frowning rider turned to the dwarf who rode a battle pig and stood beside him.

"The orcs have already begun their siege; we must hurry."

**

filthy orcs! here is your chapter of the day, short chapter, but tomorrow one more will be uploaded.

Remember to support me in "[email protected]/Mrnevercry"