Sauron's road of redemption

As Havarus Du Klararion, third of his name.

Stood before power made flesh, he started to rethink and reevaluate the choices that brought him to this moment.

His eyes stared blankly forward, confused about what to do.

The shout from the abomination before him had shocked his spirit.

But life doesn't just stand still, and before long he saw a giant mace moving with inhuman speed towards his head.

He quickly broke out of his reverie, and ducked underneath it.

Doing a donkey roll to escape certain death.

Getting up quickly he tries mustering the courage to face this monster.

He is already getting out of breath from the temperature sorounding him.

Salty sweat drips in his eyes, while his visor endures he can't wipe it away.

Trough the dust flying around, the arena he could see the outline of the Beast he is facing.

The dragons spewing flames in the background did nothing to calm his nerves.

Fear grips him, but he could not back down.

For standing still means death.

As the mace comes down again, he tries to parry it with his sword.

(Cling)

Instead of it being parried, he gets launched into the air.

Flying trough the air for multiple meters he lands with a splat.

Even after landing his momentum doesn't stop.

He skids trough the rough sand before his back fells a burning sensation.

He has already flew into the fire ring.

His Valyrian steel armour started super heating slowly cooking him alive.

He quickly stand up staggering out of the flames.

Even now the only reason he didn't burn to death is his high purity bloodline.

His sword lay a couple of meters away, biting trough his pain he rolls towards it.

But before he could reach it, the giant mace hits the floor in front of him spattering a great amount of sand in the air.

Some slips trough his visor and into his eyes.

Moving back he decides he first has to evaluate his situation, and his wound so he does not run headfirst towards his death.

One of his hands is now useless, is fingers mangled.

But his adrenaline makes sure he doesn't feel a thing.

Besides that, there is a piece of wood from below the sand, that pierced his flank trough a gap in his armour.

Blood started to seep slowly from his wound as it mixed with some other liquids.

He knew it wasn't good.

His time was running out.

He wasn't a doctor, but he knew that if he leaked substances with weird texture and smell his time was running out.

(Kling)

Looking before him he saw his sword.

Mairon had kicked his sword over.

"I don't usually give back the weapons of my enemies."

"But you impressed me, even when the odds were stacked against you, you still found the courage to fight me."

"So I give you one last change, one last strike."

He looked down at his weapon contemplating the words of the armoured giant.

"You are right, I may die this day but at least I will take you with me."

His eyes steeled with resolve.

He took up his weapon staggering unto his feet.

His first step was made weakly but with every step he exelerated until he was in a full on sprint.

This last burst of energy before he would succumb to his wound.

He positioned his sword aiming at the Giants throat.

He lept in the air his sword just inches away from his target.

'yes this is it, I am sorry father for disappointing you.'

'but at least I will take with me this beast, one who would have become a great threat to our house.'

But before he could finish his thought, a great pain flashed trough him.

The spike on the top of the mace entered right trough his armour.

Piercing him in the heart.

He looked down bewildered by the experience.

Looking up one last time he saw the ancient and immemorial eyes of the being in front of him.

Calm as water, for he had seen too much in his long life for this to leave a lasting impression.

But he would give this warrior the respect he deserved and lay him to rest on the ground.

He turned around and started walking trough the flames.

The flames could not hurt him, but before he got trough he heard screams of terror in the stands.

Kalaron du Klararion has died, poisend by his wine.

Mairon's eyes constricted he was not informed of this plan.

Was it another noble house or did his future wife do something.

Before he could think it trough he heard a man scream for Vysesa's and Messenia's capture.

He would not allow this to happen so before the guards could move out, he used his power.

A portal opend before Vysesa, Messenia and her sister Laurena.

They recognized the portal and moved trough it quickly.

Then he opend another and creatures clad in black moved trough it in lines.

He spoke to the Uruk hai in the black tongue.

They moved swiftly and started engaging the local soldiers.

The emperor seeing his plan derail and escalate swiftly orderd Mairon's death.

Ballista with Valyrian steel giant bolts, were aimed at him and Galarion in the sky.

Hundreds of soldiers circled Mairon, aiming down from the stands.

They were hidden within the crowd waiting for the start of the plans.

They started shooting right away, but Mairon danced trough the barrage with grace.

None could hit him.

But before long a giant bolt shot at him so fast mairon could barely react.

But still it was too late for him to move out of the way completely.

The bolt cut trough his arm severing his whole lower arm, and a part of his bicep.

Mairon grunted but it was far from crippling.

From above the dragon of house Klararion swooped down trying to bite him.

But Mairon ducked out of the way.

As he was still using his power to keep the portal open.

So his fighting prowess was less than optimal.

Uruk hai and orcs kept coming out.

Slaughtering anyone standing in their way.

Now almost a thousand orcs were wreaking havock among the spectators.

Mairon ignored them.

Turning his gaze towards his arm he saw his flesh squirming slowly regenerating his flesh.

Even the magic armour was growing back.

He gazed at the dragon that just pounced at him and smirked.

He took the giant bolt that severd his arm and pulled it from the ground.

Weighing it in his arm he started taking a throwing position.

Tonight he would feast on a dragon.