Gandalf the Grey

I must hold off the balrog I thought. If this divine beast shall encounter the rest of the group the mission will surely be finished faster than a pint in the hands of a dwarf. I regain my focus and feel a small jolt of energy. A cold bead of nervous sweat ran down my face which I found peculiar as the intense heat of the balrog was enough to forge a broadsword mighty enough to slay a thousand orcs. The balrog approaches a sight very few men would be able to stand up to as the demon-like beast stands as tall as a mountain and is covered in fire and molten Lava both gathered from the depths of hell making it a conglomerate of black and red. The balrog and I lock eyes. I look into eyes of fire full of hate and anger as well as just pure evil. The balrog reaches down to summon its hellfire cleaver. In a move of pure desperation I begin to chant the most powerful spell I can, ‘I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Uduˆn. Go back to the Shadow! You cannot pass.’ I scream this as I pull my old, brittle staff out to block the incoming blow for the towering balrog. The balrog’s sword smashed to bits; I was amazed but I feel the damage that my staff has suffered. My trusty companion has one final command left before it shall crumble like sand leaving me defenseless. The Balrog even angrier now lets out an ear piercing shriek that would puncture glass. My state of exhaustion is now settling in as the balrog charges for what is hopefully the last time. I began to muster my breath from the depths of my lungs putting every ounce of my waning divine power into four words; “you shall not pass,” I screamed as I slammed my brittle staff into the cobblestone bridge.

The bridge crumbled, falling into the deep depths below. With the bridge along came the balrog I stood and watched the foe fall to its demise, and felt a sense of relaxation. The battle was over, or so I thought. I felt a tightness on my leg. It felt as if I was being grasped. I looked down towards my leg and saw a bright red rope caught around it. I now realize my fate is sealed. The balrog has gotten me in his whip and shall bring me down in the depths to perish with him. I see Aragon and Legolas coming to my aid just as I get dragged down in the depths, I give one final piece of wisdom to my old friends, “fly you fools!”

---

Reflection

In this adaptation of Tolkien's Fellowship of the Ring I portrayed this scene with the balrog from Gandalf’s perspective shining light on what was going through his head as he took on the Balrog. I also attempted to mimic Tolkien's writing style by putting a large emphasis on descriptions of the scene, the characters and their emotions. My best examples of this is the description of the balrog “The balrog approaches a sight very few men would be able to stand up to as the demon-like beast stands as tall as a mountain and is covered in fire and molten Lava both gathered from the depths of hell making it a conglomerate of black and red. ” While this story was told in 3rd person I elected to do it in 1st person but still managed to keep the omniscient narrator in true Tolkien fashion.