Haldor wakes up in a dark and sinister dungeon.

"So that's how the Halls of Mandos look like... I was expecting something much more interesting."

Before him stands a human clothed in black robes, or at least an entity in human form. Could that be Mandos himself?

"Oh yes! I've done it! The most powerful slave ever created! And it's... MINE!"

Something is clearly wrong... This can't be Mandos... And the place... It's not a hall, it looks more like a summoning circle in a dusty dungeon. Haldor can't move... stuck inside the circle made of powerful runes of protection. And now he contemplates what remains of his old self... a set of pathetic bones, brought back to "life" by black magic with some kind of consciousness, a remnant of his past life as he once was Haldor, the Easterling Mage. Silently, he listens to the demented necromancer that created the abominous monstruosity he had become...

"A powerful slave against my enemies! No one will stand against me now!"

"I'm not a slave! I am Haldor, Archmage of Rhudor!", Haldor responds to the necromancer. "Now release me!"

"You're nothing more than a set of animated bones, conjured here to serve me!", replies the dark hooded figure. "Now shut up, slave!"

The ritual must have weakened the necromancer's powers. As he turns around for a moment, Haldor notices a part of the summoning circle starting to fade. A chance to escape? Even without his old body, Haldor still feels the magical energies flowing through his bony remains. Maybe his old magical powers are still intact. Without a moment of doubt, he conjures a powerful fire bolt and aim it at the overconfident necromancer.

"No! This can't be! I am your master! You must obey me! I'll teach you obedience, slave!", shouts the necromancer, as he calls the horrible spell of Soul Rot.

Nimbly dodging the spell, Haldor replies with a lightning bolt... and the necromancer falls to his knees.

"Why did you do that? With your help, we would have been unstoppable and conquered the world!"

"I'm not interested.", replies Haldor. "And I will destroy you for making an undead out of me!"

"Nooo! Please spare me! I'm a poor necromancer who needs his undead slaves to survive in this cruel world", gurgles the necromancer, as his life starts to slip out of his body. "And you will need me anyway to survive too! In your current form, everything you will meet outside of this room will try to destroy you..."

"So what do you propose?", asks Haldor.

"Here, take this cloak. It is an enchanted cloak that will hide your true nature and make you look like a normal human."

Haldor looks at the black cloak which seems to radiate magical energies. As he puts it on, he feels his magical energies increase... a powerful cloak indeed. Looking at himself through one of the polished stones that form the walls of the room, he sees a man, vaguely resembling the old Haldor he once was, the cloak giving an illusion of a skinny body to everyone that would look at him now.

"Thank you for the gift... now you may die.", says Haldor without a trace of mercy in the voice.

"NOOOOO... *gurlgle*."

The necromancer dead, Haldor starts to think about what he should do now. The idea of spending the remaining of his time on Arda as an undead skeleton repulses him... but ending his unlife now in this forsaken dungeon is not the answer. Suicide has never been liked by the Gods, and would probably cost his place in the afterlife... and appearing as this pathetic set of bones in front of Mandos is not really what he's looking for right now. Maybe there's still something to accomplish in Middle-Earth after all, and he's gonna have time to think about his second death later...

Haldor looks more closely at the room he's currently standing in. Where could he possibly be? And a more important question... when? How long did he stay in limbo state before being awakened here instead of in the Halls of Mandos?

The sun rises again, and another battle is about to begin. For the past two days, the armies of Valinor had fought the forces of Morgoth that were spewing forth from the caverns of Anfauglith. The Balrogs had already fallen, now the legions of the Orcs are standing between the armies of the Light and the fortress of Angband.

All the recent victories had given Haldor a courage unknown to himself. The young mage knew that his limited talents would not weight much in the final outcome, but at least he was fighting against the forces of Evil, not like most Easterlings who decided to fight for the Enemy.

And his mentor, Eldorin, was on his side. The powerful Maia had taken a human shape, young, beautiful, and terrible at the same time. With his mighty spells alone, he could defeat an entire unit of a hundred Orcs in no time... Really, nothing could go wrong this day. Soon they would be standing at the entrance of the pits of Angband, and all the darkness would be dissipated...

Suddenly, the sound of the trumpets started to resonate in the sky, and it was the signal all were waiting for. Quickly, the legions of the Orcs perished, exterminated by the swords, bows and spells of the armies of the West. During the battle, Haldor got separated from Eldorin and the friends who were fighting with him. He had to retreat behind a hill after being chased by a dozen of Orcs to regain his magical energies. Using these energies, he could cast minor fire and lightning bolts to dispel the unfortunate Orcs that were stupid enough to attack him...

The top of the hill was a perfect spot to watch the progress of the battle. Looking around, Haldor could only see thousands and thousands of Orc corpses left behind by the armies of the Valar on the desolated plain of Anfauglith.

"Victory!" he shouted, watching the remaining Orc forces fleeing the field of battle.

Suddenly, from the fortress of Angband, came a terrible scream of fear and desperation. Could it be the Dark Lord himself, sensing that his end was coming? And as the scream was turning into a growl of anger, the sky started to become totally black above Morgoth's throne. Surely not a good omen...

And then they came... the great winged dragons with their devastating powers. Fire drakes, storm drakes, all breathing fire and lightning in front of them. Their assault was so brutal that, for a moment, Haldor saw the armies on the plain retreat in front of the raging elements preceding the dragons.

Submerged by the epic battle on the plain of Anfauglith, and in the sky above the plain, Haldor didn't see the huge form coming his way before it was too late for hiding. A massive dragon covered in black scales appeared above him and started to speak:

"Your existance has come to an end, puny mortal. I will destroy you and anyone who will stand against my master, Morgoth, Lord of Darkness. For I am Ancalagon the Black, mightiest of the dragonkind. Now prepare to die..."

Haldor knew he would have to use all he had learned during his training with Eldorin to have a chance of surviving the fight with the dragon. While dodging the first breath, he called for the element of fire and projected a bolt at the massive form...

"Silly mortal, your pesky spells are useless against me!", roared the dragon.

Indeed, the powers of the Flame, Lightning and even Corrosive Vapor were helpless against a creature that seemed to resist all the elements. After spending almost all his magical energies, Haldor could only hope that Eldorin had sensed his fight with the dragon and would come to the rescue... Using his minor teleportation abilities, Haldor managed to avoid the deadly breaths and claws for a while, but the outcome was unavoidable. As his magical energies got finally depleted, he raised his staff high and rushed at the dragon in a final assault.

The dragon's attack in response was brutal and painful. With all the strength of his claws, he threw Haldor to the bottom of the hill. In a last flash of consciousness, Haldor felt the warmth of the Valar enveloping him, as he sensed the aura of Eldorin taking him away from Ancalagon's wrath.

The spell of major teleportation had brought Eldorin back with Haldor's broken body to the camp where most of Haldor's friends had retreated from the dragons. Seeing all the interrogating faces surrounding him, Eldorin could only reply by a negative sign with his head...

In a final effort, Haldor opened his eyes:

"Is Ancalagon dead? Did we vanquish Morgoth?"

"Yes, my friend, the battle is over and the darkness is gone." replied Eldorin.

"Now I can die in peace. The Halls of Mandos are awaiting for me, and perhaps we gonna see each other again in Valinor..."

And with these words, Haldor dies...

I will post here the story of Haldor the Archmage, based on my experience from playing ToME4 beta 13. Since beta 14/15 were released too late to switch to Maj'Eyal, the story will still take place in Middle-Earth. The first twenty chapters were posted on the forums, the remaining parts will be posted here. So stay tuned!