Lord of the Rings: Warriors

"Sign-in successful! Congratulations, host, on receiving 50 Lordaeron Rangers!"

"What the… Jackpot? Did I finally get lucky?" Rynar rubbed his eyes in disbelief. 

He had spent the last ten days signing for random junk, most of which was hardly useful. A sudden troop reward caught him completely off guard.

However, once he looked closely at the reward, his excitement quickly turned sour.

"What is this nonsense? I thought they were Lordaeron Knights! What use are Lordaeron Rangers?" Rynar howled like a defeated dog.

The Duchy of Lordaeron, nestled within the forests of the eastern corner of the Rune Inland Sea, was famed for being the hereditary land of the Grand Duke of Lordaeron. 

The region was known for its half-elven population—a blend of human and elven traits. 

They were renowned for producing knights, rangers, and archers highly regarded across the continent.

In terms of raw strength, Lordaeron Knights weren't particularly outstanding among knights. 

Their half-elven heritage made them reject the cumbersome plate armor favored by others, opting instead for lighter chainmail or scale mail. 

Early in the Ring of Magic game, players often dismissed Lordaeron troops as "trash-tier units." 

Aside from the knights, the only redeemable troops were the rangers, but even they had a poor cost-performance ratio for most lords. 

Although they could equip heavy swords, shields, and chain plate armor, their exorbitant recruitment cost deterred many. 

As for the knights? 

They were a tragedy in the early game—inferior to Zaltarion Knights in direct charges, lacking the defense of heavily armored counterparts, and… well, they were fast, but no one cared.

Their only saving grace was their unique ability to charge effectively in forests, where other cavalry faltered. 

Their exceptional horsemanship and keen eyesight allowed them to gallop through dense woods and impale enemies with deadly precision.

Everything changed when a player accidentally discovered their hidden skill.

In Ring of Magic, every named knight order had a unique inherited skill (Rynar's Holy Radiance Knights didn't count, sadly). 

Different regions offered different skill sets, and Lordaeron Knights possessed a secret technique—Counterstrike!

To put it simply, if they wielded a lance, the skill became a reverse charge; with a bow, it was a counter-shot. 

This ability allowed them to strike enemies while retreating during a charge.

When one player noticed their troops suffered more losses chasing down retreating Lordaeron Knights than in direct confrontation, the secret was out. 

Suddenly, the once-dismissed knights became highly coveted. Lords scrambled to recruit them as rear-guard specialists.

"Tsk tsk! I remember when I had a squad of Lordaeron Knights. Their reverse charge was ridiculously strong!"

Rynar sighed nostalgically. Who would have guessed that knights who seemed to flee in cowardice could twist their bodies mid-gallop to deliver devastating counterattacks?

"Oh well, rangers it is. At least they're ranged troops." Rynar shook his head, deciding not to dwell on the bittersweet memory.

"Your Majesty!" Radir's voice snapped him out of his reverie.

"Oh, uh… what were you saying?" Rynar scratched his head sheepishly, embarrassed that his thoughts about Lordaeron Rangers had made him zone out.

"Not much, Your Majesty. I just heard you still have some of Smaug's flesh, don't you?" Radir's shrewd gaze gleamed with curiosity.

"Uh…" Rynar's lips twitched, instantly realizing the crafty old mage must have gotten wind of the dragon's remains from someone. Reluctantly, he nodded.

"Excellent! I've been worried about finding a high-energy source of magical beast flesh to feed the griffins. 

Smaug's mutated dragon meat should be perfect for these five little ones as they grow!" Radir cheerfully waved a hand toward the sky.

A streak of movement shot down like a bolt of lightning, diving straight under Radir's robes. It was one of the young griffins, who had been playing around earlier.

Amused, Rynar crouched to peer at the robe, curious how it concealed such a large creature. To his surprise, a small eagle-like head poked out, gazing skyward.

Man and griffin locked eyes. The young creature tilted its head, mimicking Rynar's curious tilt.

"Haha! How adorable! I didn't think griffins could be this cute as cubs!" Rynar chuckled, his previous frustrations forgotten.

"Indeed. Hard to believe that a year from now, they'll be able to hunt nearly anything," Radir remarked, stroking his beard.

"Well, I'll leave you to it, Radir. I'll take a walk around the city." 

Rynar played with the griffin cub a little longer, enough to make the little creature circle his legs and squawk in playful protest. Then, he bid Radir farewell.

"Farewell, Your Majesty!" Radir gave a formal mage's bow.

"Come take a look! Fresh Long Lake whitefish! Only 2 copper coins each! Want one, friend?" A fish vendor hollered energetically.

"Fresh winter mushrooms! Picked straight from the wilds! Delicious and nutritious!" shouted another merchant from the foraging team.

"High-quality charcoal! Low smoke, long burn! Only 3 pounds for 1 copper coin!"

Though the city's population barely exceeded two thousand, the diligent Zaltarion people had transformed Riverguard's main street into a bustling marketplace. 

Rynar even spotted a small tavern amidst the lively scene.

Pushing the wooden door open, Rynar stepped inside, greeted by a wave of heat mixed with the pungent scent of cheap ale. 

He winced and shut his eyes briefly. After adjusting, he took in the sight of Riverguard's only tavern.

"Good grief, what an assault on the senses!" Rynar muttered under his breath.

The tavern was small. 

Compared to the massive, sprawling establishments Rynar had known in his previous life or in-game, this cramped 300-square-meter space was packed to the brim. 

Rynar estimated over a hundred people were inside, many of them off-duty soldiers he recognized.

A semicircular bar lined the far wall, with shelves crammed with crude bottles and jugs. 

A young woman worked behind the counter, organizing drinks and directing her staff. She was undoubtedly the tavern owner.

"Impressive. Opening a tavern here, of all places?" Rynar thought, eyeing the barrels of low-quality ale. He pulled up a stool at the bar and sat across from the woman.

"What can I get you, sir? A drink or some—" She froze mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she recognized him.

"Y-Your Majesty… I wasn't trying to steal your wealth… I… I've been paying taxes…" 

The woman scrambled out from behind the counter and knelt before him. Technically, running a business without a lord's permit was considered theft, punishable by death.

"It's fine! Stand up!" Rynar waved off her concerns. 

As long as taxes were paid, he didn't care about such petty regulations.

"I'm not blaming you. I'm just curious—where do you get your alcohol?" Rynar asked, studying her with genuine interest.

.

.

.

Guys, do leave some power stones and reviews.

🤞patreon.com/MythosWriter🤞

If you guys enjoy this story, you can support me on Patreon and get access to Advance Chapters, it really helps me to work on new chapters.