The Tarnished in LOTR with Elden Ring

After hearing their king's war cry echo across the battlefield, the war-goat riders' battle fervor burned even more fiercely in their chests.

And those were-worms were indeed, as Dain had said, not skilled at combat.

They had previously only followed Azog's orders, awakening abruptly from their dormant state after sensing the strong vibrations from the Dwarf army passing overhead, slowly drilling up from underground.

However, when they truly emerged, they simply stood there stupidly with no further action.

These were-worms' massive bodies stood motionless, as if they had no concept of the battle before them. Dwarf war-goat riders and heavy infantry were charging toward them, yet they still showed no defensive or attacking postures.

One were-worm was even leisurely chewing rock it had just bitten off, the stone crumbling to fragments in its mouth before slowly swallowing it, completely ignoring the Dwarves charging toward it.

"Aim for these giant worms' bodies!" the war-goat rider in the front roared deafeningly.

Despite the jolting charge of their war goats, the Dwarves remained agile, skillfully leveling their spears.

Those spears gleamed with cold light, flashing with chilling radiance under the sunlight.

The war-goat riders, carrying Dwarf fury, thrust spear after spear fiercely into the were-worms' exposed massive bodies. Each strike was accompanied by the riders' roars, mercilessly venting upon these were-worms like a violent storm.

"Screech!"

Feeling severe pain in their bodies, the were-worms emitted sharp, piercing buzzing sounds, like sharp blades cutting through the sky.

They writhed their massive, clumsy bodies, forcefully shaking off the war-goat riders. Plate-armored Dwarves traced arcs through the air before crashing heavily to the ground.

Then, amid violent trembling, those were-worms that had only received superficial wounds quickly retreated back underground, hiding away.

This scene left the war-goat riders, who had prepared for counterattacks, along with the Dwarf heavy infantry arriving at the battlefield, standing stunned in place with incredulous expressions.

Though Dain had said they weren't skilled at combat, the current situation made the Dwarves unable to help thinking: "Their courage is too small, isn't it?"

The war-goat riders who had just been forcefully shaken off were now climbing back to their feet. They were just somewhat dazed from the fall, heads still dizzy, but otherwise unharmed.

The only loss might be the iron spears originally gripped tightly in their hands, now left embedded in the were-worms' bodies.

Now they only had steel-forged short blades remaining for use.

Dain also spurred his mount closer at this time. He jumped down from his boar, crouched down to press his ear to the ground, carefully listening to sounds from the holes the were-worms had left, his expression growing grave.

He commanded sternly: "Don't let your guard down! Heavy infantry advance quickly and form a solid shield wall! War-goat riders regroup, maintain proper charging distance! An Orc army is attacking us through the holes the were-worms gnawed out!"

As Dain's words fell, the Dwarf soldiers immediately sprang into action like taut bowstrings.

The heavy infantry, with coordination developed through long training, quickly and orderly arranged into a solid shield wall. They joined their heavy shields closely together, forming a solid protective barrier across the battlefield, ready at any time to meet enemy impact.

The war-goat riders also quickly adjusted their formation. They sat steadily on their war goats' broad backs, gripping reins tightly, leveling their spears again, and gazing ahead while maintaining optimal charging distance from the holes.

The war goats let out deep roars, pawing the ground with their front hooves, preparing to charge alongside their Dwarf riders, awaiting only the command to sweep toward the enemy like surging waves.

"Stay alert to ground movements at all times! If you hear the trembling sounds we heard in the valley earlier, immediately leave your position!" Dain commanded loudly, his voice echoing like thunder above the battlefield, clearly audible to every Dwarf soldier near Dain.

He hadn't forgotten that the were-worms had only hidden, not truly fled.

Meanwhile, the Dwarf messenger quickly reacted, blowing his horn forcefully to relay Dain's orders.

Dain's eyes revealed a trace of vigilance as he surveyed the surrounding ground, knowing clearly these were-worms could reappear at any time, bringing unexpected trouble to his army.

Damn Azog, if only we still had our Dwarf war chariots.

Dain's expression was grim as water as he stared intently at the holes caused by the were-worms, thinking angrily.

His fists involuntarily clenched, knuckles turning pale, as if using all his strength to restrain his inner fury.

Those holes seemed like Azog's mockery, making Dain feel deep helplessness. How he wished those war chariots that had once dominated battlefields could appear here again to help them turn the tide.

The terrain left by the were-worms resembled a natural cage, forming a perfect situation of "closing the door to beat the dog." If the Dwarf war chariots' ballistas were still here, they could precisely aim at those holes, firing thick, sharp bolts.

Those bolts would be sufficient to firmly suppress the Orcs hiding in the holes, preventing their escape, making them sitting ducks trapped in narrow holes with no ability to fight back.

However, now Dain could only order heavy infantry to form shield walls in place, gambling that the were-worms wouldn't drill out again in the short term.

If he were completely certain the were-worms wouldn't immediately appear, he would directly command heavy infantry to charge up and firmly block those tunnel entrances, rather than only being able to watch the openings and wait for Orcs to rush out.

After all, if were-worms reappeared, launching surprise attacks from underground, heavy infantry blocking the entrances would fall into extremely passive situations, not only unable to effectively stop Orcs but also possibly suffering double attacks from both were-worms and Orcs.

So Dain could only choose to have heavy infantry form up and wait, hoping the were-worms wouldn't cause trouble again while also preparing for various sudden situations.

As for retreat, how could Dain not have considered it? But judging from the footstep sounds he heard, his army wouldn't have time to reorganize and retreat before Orcs caught up like a tide.

At that time, with his army's formation only half-adjusted and soldiers still in chaotic states with disorganized ranks and inevitably affected morale, if Orcs struck then, the Dwarf army would fall into great passivity with unimaginable casualties, possibly being routed or even completely annihilated.

Therefore, Dain dared not easily order retreat, only steeling himself for battle, hoping to find a glimmer of hope in this fierce fight.

"Kill all Dwarf scum!"

Sure enough, while thoughts still flowed through Dain's mind, Orc roars burst like thunder into his ears, violently pulling him from brief contemplation back to cruel reality.

At the holes left by were-worms, he could already see a large group of Orcs clearly more robust than any Dain had previously encountered.

They wore excellent and menacing black iron armor with uniform iron helmets, wielding great cleavers.

The Orcs' black iron armor under sunlight made them seem like messengers from hell, their blade edges gleaming with bloodthirsty light.

Seeing the Dwarves, they regarded them as prey, letting out deafening roars filled with endless killing intent and hatred toward Dwarves, especially those of Durin's line.

However, compared to the orderly, battle-ready Dwarves, these Orcs had no formation whatsoever.

These Orcs were like a pack of maddened beasts, charging directly from the holes without any tactics.

But for Dain and his army, even though these Orcs had no formation, their chaotic charge still appeared as a dark torrent bearing destructive momentum toward them.

"Rakan, Bekar! (Weapons ready!)"

The Dwarf heavy infantry commander leading the right wing shouted loudly, his gaze fixed on those Orcs about to collide with shields, gripping tightly the heavy tower shield nearly as tall as a Dwarf, steadying it before him.

"Hey! Hu! Ya!"

Dwarf heavy infantry also responded magnificently to their commander's shouts, voices like surging waves, each higher than the last.

The Dwarves forming the shield wall leaned slightly, their iron-booted feet rooted like trees into the ground, seeming to merge with the earth, impossible to budge.

Those extending spears through shield wall gaps pressed their palms firmly against spear ends, muscles beneath armor tensing, veins bulging.

From above, the clash between Dwarves and Orcs resembled silver-gray shores violently colliding with black waves.

The right-wing commander widened his eyes, staring intently at Orcs he estimated were less than ten meters away.

At this critical moment before collision, he roared: "Spearmen, attention!"

The right-wing commander's voice was like a lightning bolt of command, cutting through battlefield clamor.

Hearing this order, spearmen gripped their spears even tighter, as if channeling all their strength into the weapons.

Finally, the black tide crashed heavily against the silver-gray shore.

Orcs surged like violent waves toward the Dwarf shield wall.

However, the Dwarf shield wall stood like solid reefs, steadily withstanding Orc impact. Under the shield wall's protection, spearmen accurately thrust their weapons, each attack making Orcs pay a heavy price.

The black tide was shattered against the silver-gray shore. The Orcs' first assault was successfully repelled by the Dwarf army, their corpses scattered across the battlefield like broken foam.

From these Orcs' performance, it wasn't difficult to see that even Azog could only manage basic commands like when to attack or retreat.

As for more refined tactical coordination, these simple-minded Orcs couldn't possibly achieve that.

They were like a drove of wild beasts, only knowing to charge forward on instinct and brute force, completely ignorant of tactical coordination or formation changes.

On Middle-earth, whether in individual quality or military training, Orcs were far inferior to humans, Dwarves, and Elves.

However, Orcs became a major threat to Middle-earth's races not through individual quality or military training, but through numbers.

They bred like weeds in vast quantities, seemingly endless. On battlefields, Orcs often relied on human wave tactics to overwhelm opponents. Their tactics were simple and brutal, swarming forward, using numerical advantage and brute force to compensate for inherent deficiencies in combat power and tactics.

The first wave of Orcs had just fallen under Dwarf spears, their bodies not yet completely cold, when the second wave charged close, trampling their kinsmen's blood and flesh.

The third wave was also charging, continuously pouring from were-worm holes, seemingly endless.

Meanwhile, the fourth wave had already appeared at the were-worm hole entrances, ready to join this bloody battle at any moment.

Not only Orcs. Warg roars also came from the deep pits, clearly reaching Dwarf soldiers' ears, making their hearts sink.

In this black Orc torrent, dark gray "tributaries" suddenly split off from the sides. Those were wargs from Mount Gundabad!

Their forms wove through Orc groups at astonishing speed.

"Awoo! (Crush the Dwarves!)"

Wargs communicated in their unique language through roars. Orcs on their backs gripped reins tightly, circling with wargs to the Dwarf heavy infantry's solid defensive line's flank.

Noticing this, Dain didn't hesitate. He immediately raised his war hammer high, letting out a deafening roar: "War-goat riders, charge with me! Maintain the line! Order center wing to quickly support right wing comrades! Command the left wing to counter-encircle these whelps daring to flank us!"

"Wu~wu!"

The Dwarf messenger summoned all his strength, pressing lips tightly to his horn and blowing forcefully, letting stirring horn sounds once again resound across the entire battlefield.

Dain rode his sturdy boar, leading the charge against wargs and Orcs, his figure like a flash of red-gold lightning.

War-goat riders followed closely behind their king, unanimously roaring loudly, charging forward without hesitation.