Is there any one literature-inspired "scene" or environment you recreate in your imagination as a means of escaping...

OP here and I realize that my initial post might appear to be "bait" and that I'm therefore being insincere, but everything I posted is true and I was just curious how common this is, and if so what "scenes" or passages from novels other people may be "fixated" on, in a sense.

>t I often get into my sleeping bag
keke it's the little things that get me

>As I a kid I began my dreams with the lotr scene where the Uruks run in the forest before attacking Boromir. Dunno why that scene stuck on me. Guess I thought it was really cool seeing Uruks running in the forest. Also the leader slow-mo walking. For some reason I never actually get to Boromir getting shot.
I just play that scene, or re-imagine similar scenes; as if I were in limbo.
Maybe it was the music transition to "Saruman theme", and DUN DUN-DUN DUN DUN-DUN
youtube.com/watch?v=ginACmmBD1Q
At 3:10
Never gets old.

I'll never get bored of dwarfs elves and orcs.

I'd say 99% of people daydream about being successful or famous, or being heroes in terror scenarios

this OP
give us more

I was like this when I was a kid and your post made me melancholic.

I really liked Kerouac as a teen so i became an alcoholic who hopped freight trains and wrote poems. Going to novelize it one day but i work a lot since i'm not going full deadbeat dad with the fantasy.

Also the moment before Boromir showing up at 2:40, when the uruks run towards hobbits. 8 year old me thought it was really cool.
>He didn't watch the lotr movies religiously as a kid

That makes it even better

I'll be honest with you, I also have really long, involved daydreams. But they have more variety than a single scene, and generally preside more in the realm of plausibility.

checked

For me it’s the beginning of that Batman movie, where the guy from Game of Thrones is standing there with his hands on his hips and he says, “Dr. Watson, I’m with the CIA.”

Just classic moviemaking. I know that scene like the back of my hand.

...

your an angel OP, dont let anyone tell you deferent

I'm in an energetic mood plus I was about to get into my sleeping bag anyway to daydream about this, but even though I consider expressing dreams to be taboo and "unlucky" since this is a daydream I can elaborate.

The backstory of my Aragorn-esque protagonist, who is me, is that he was (like Aragorn from LOTR) from Numenor but that he spent much of his late adolescence and then his early twenties in Rivendale in part due to his volunteering to help aid a detachment of Elvish visitors back to their homeland. Once there he settles into a largely academic life, one of relatively many non-Elves in the settlement and, due to his absent father and lack of funds, a relatively overlooked individual if industrious and so on. He ("I") begin working for Elrond due to my workrate and generally quiet, hard-working disposition, and often get dispatched to various other settlements where I guide and guard more senior Elves and visitors to Rivendale. It is in the employment of Elrond that I first lock eyes with [her] (I'm not going to post her name because it is and was the human name of my real-life crush). She is the quiet, shy, sensitive but (I notice) often moody daughter of another high-ranking Elf, though she is overshadowed by her much more outgoing female relatives and peers, despite being more intelligent than they. Anyway there is clearly some tension between us but neither of us expresses it outright and eventually, upon my leaving to go with the Fellowship (as Aragorn does) our relationship is that of barely-suppressed frustration and hostility at ourselves and each other for allowing a potential relationship to not be fulfilled. Fast forward and I'm in Helm's Deep. I notice the tired garrison (the Elves have not yet arrived) and realize our chances are slim. Theoden is bitter and stubborn, and refuses to consider the possibility of making any further towns aware that the Uruk-Hai are coming and favours closing ourselves in and making a futile last stand. I however ride out alone (as I'm wont to do, being a ranger and "guide") and after a lengthy journey through forestry and across the plains, reach a large Rohan settlement where people are already fearing something is amiss. I tell them to hurry and we gather our weapons, load some wagons and set out, about 200 people in all also from the surrounding villages. On the way back to Helm's Deep I notice, down across the river to my right, a gathering of people, their horses and wagons stopped, being harassed by a band of wargs, with only a small group of men on horseback defending them. I muster a few men and tell the others to keep going to Helm's Deep. I charge down with some men from the rescued village and confront the band of wargs. I am dismounted and end up attempting to defend a woman and some children who are taking refuge in the back of a wagon against a dismounted orc. After slaying him I am hit in the chest by a crossbow held by a mounted warg-rider. I see another warg coming and

I like to picture myself in old age on an island I populate with contraptions/constructions/devices over time. I use/maintain the island's content and write about what happened during the day to occupy my retirement. the components are all air dropped to a clearing near the dock and I'm the only person in the daydream usually. this is obviously parallel to Myst; I've always liked the scenario presented through the game's narrative

I often daydream about hiking in the mountains and finding a grove of nymphs who are dancing, and they take me into an alternate universe wherein Greek mythological figures are real.

leap out and drive my sword into its side, but as I'm doing it its orc rider strikes down with his poorly manufactured scimitar-like blade causing a deep gash down my back. Needless to say I'm in bad shape, but the adrenaline keeps me on my feet before I realize that the battle is pretty much over, with a few rogue wargs being chased away by some men on horseback. The group of people thank us and explain they had decided to group together and leave Helm's Deep after Theoden's behaviour became even more erratic and after he revealed they would all die there because of the failure of Gondor and of the Rohirrim to aid them. I tell them to come back with me, and while the men agree that the women and children should do that, they feel too guilty to return. I insist however, and explain that every last man is needed (which is true by the way) and after deciding to burn the bodies of the fallen on a pyre of wood (rather than bury them or leave them and allow the wargs to eat them) I climb back onto Brego and slowly we make our way back to Helm's Deep. Meanwhile in Helm's Deep the Elves have arrived, and with them, unbekownst to me, is my crush who (something of a tomboy, and moody like I mentioned) sneaked away from Rivendale and joined the detachment of troops when she knew it would be too late and costly to escort her back. When the first group of people from the town I alerted arrive there she runs to the gate and waits excitedly for my return before realizing I have not in fact returns. An elderly villager tells her, upon her asking, about my effort to save the ambushed group, and of course she is very much pained. But return I do late that night along with the exhausted group. As we enter the gates and make our way to the open space outside the Hornburg's entrance Theoden comes out to angrily denounce those who left and demand they leave immediately. I interrupt, explaining it was I who encouraged them to return, and he shouts at me too, asking who I think I am etc, before placing the thirty or so men from the rescued ambushed party under my control, with specific orders to protect the front gate at all costs. A motherly woman from the rescued party insists I receive treatment for my wounds, which are still bleeding despite the fact I removed the arrowhead myself simply by yanking it out lest it become embedded and allow the skin to harden around it. I am helped up the spiral stone staircase to one of the upper rooms of the Hornburg, the night sky now black outside, and ask about the Elves and feel touched that Elrond would send his troops here to help defend Rohan regardless of how unlikely it is that we would succeed. As I remove my chainmail and undershirt and sit on the edge of the single bed with an older woman pressing a warm damp cloth to the wound on my back, I look up and see [her], and she is standing in the doorway with a troubled expression, as if embarrassed to be essentially admitting she has feelings for me and also angry that I

why is Theoden such a cunt
you saved villagers

Good job on not being ideologically submissive OP

would force her to experience such passion that she would be forced into such a situation. I stand up immediately upon seeing her and we walk towards each other, me slowly and her, upon seeing the arrow wound on my chest, breaking free of her repressive instincts and jogging towards me asking if I'm hurt. She touches my wound and I hold her hand, and we stand that way clutching each other's hands between our chests until I am reminded of the situation we are in and become rather angry as I demand to know why she is here. She explains that she "had to come" because she heard I was at Helm's Deep and that we were greatly outnumbered, but I remain angry and ask her rhetorically whether she is aware we would probably all die here. The woman nursing me stands humbly nearby and hears this, and I apologize and tell her to please go and spend time with her husband and children down in the Glittering Caves where many people are resting. My crush becomes tearful and embarrassed and thinks I only care about her being there because it would reflect poorly on me in the eyes of Elrond and also her high-ranking Elf father. She runs out of the room and up the spiral stone staircase to the top of the Hornburg (where Gimli blows the horn in the movie) and I chase her up there, the staircase illuminated by burning torches along the wall, until we are out in the open surrounded by darkness. I relieve the guard who is on watch there, telling to change shifts early, and looking out under a starry sky, a cold wind blowing and no sign yet of the Uruk-Hai army, I admit to her that I care more about her than I do anybody in this world, and that even though that may not mean much to her considering how few people are in my life, that I mean it nonetheless and can't imagine feeling that way towards anyone else. I explain my reasons for not approaching her back in Rivendale and she laughs reluctantly and says how foolish I am. When the next guard arrives to resume his duty we make our way down to the Glittering Caves, a day before the battle will begin, and after meeting with my men to tell them to get as much sleep as possible (I really think sleep is crucial to peak performance, e.g. Roger Federer sleeps 10 hours a night in order to maintain peak form) an explaining how we are going to defend the gate tomorrow (gathering large rocks atop a wagonbed and using it as a lever to drop them on the Uruk-Hai gate attackers) I and my crush find a quiet secluded spot in the Caves where she uses a pure white Elven cloth to gather water leaking down the sides of a cave wall and press it to my wounds, wiping away the soil and the blood until I am all clean. Afterwards we lay down together on a bed of straw, whispering to each other and promising that this night together, our hearts open to one another, compensates for anything that may happen the following day. We fall asleep, my arms wrapped around her from behind, my fist clutching my cloak (used as a blanket) up beneath her chin to

I imagine myself as a homeless beatnik on the streets of manhattan kicking it with strangers like an aloof motherfucker. I imagine this despite only having a tangential interest in the beat generation, being 75% sure that if I was homeless I would end up an hero, and most glaringly having grown up in semi-rural UK with 0 concept of the reality of this beyond pop culture.

I still like the fantasy though.

>e.g. Roger Federer sleeps 10 hours a night in order to maintain peak form

OP here. I'm really tired right now and should sleep.

Theoden is bitter, firstly that Eomer has failed to arrive (having spent much of the previous months in self-exile) and that Gondor is to him no longer a reliably ally. Faced with the annihilation of Rohan under his leadership, he becomes stubborn and reckless, insisting (in my opinion) that we close the gates and forget about saving others because he actually desires to be slain in Helm's Deep so that he will be both pitied and valorized for falling in battle against a much larger force. Any further reinforcements Helm's Deep receives only threatens to lessen the "glory" that may be attributed to him in this defeat (i.e. 400 men standing against an army of 10,000 is more romantic than 1,000 men doing so). Since defeat is assured, he desires simply to get it over with. The fact people react to this defeatism by forming an escape party and fleeing Helm's Deep (the party who are ambushed who I help rescue) ironically causes him to feel even more aggrieved, even given that their leaving reduced the size of the defence and thus feeds into desired his self-pity narrative. When they return of course he is angry simply because his greatness, undermined once by the impending defeat, is undermined once more by their betrayal. When I announce my role in bringing them back to Helm's Deep, this of course challenges his authority in a sense and so he demands to know who I think I am. In reaction I tell him that every man here, including myself, fights for the glory of Rohan, a People he still leads. Embarrassed perhaps (but also satisfied by my statement) he simply brushed the situation away by telling me to lead these men and make sure the gateway (one of the entry points of attack) is defended at all costs.

>elves

spoiled.

What you are describin is essentially what authors of fictional books do as well, often for far more than you do it. Expanding upon their imagination of the scenes and re-thinking the motivations and actions of all named characters involved.
>that I can develop it a little further each time

Yep, it's easilly incremental. Naturally. If you tried to use the same drive and imagination to start thinking of something in your own setting, or maybe a historical setting you might learn about, and go from there. In no time you might realize that you have a book or at least a short story on your hands.

Original works are always better than fanfics. And writing it down is much better than just imaggining it.

do you dream about the battle at all? anything besides helm's deep? gondor or the escape from bree? what's riverdale like? have you composed any tolkienesque poetry?

i used to do something similar to that a while back. i used to imagine myself a a stealthy commando infiltrating bases and taking people down, but mostly imagining myself out of scenes in LOTR (always as Aragorn because he's the best) just killing orcs, enduring lots of pain, being a badass. It was always great fun to make up these situations before i went to sleep, although i don't really do that anymore and just indulge and imagine my fetishes and the sex that i would have with the women i know or see around in the day.

i also imagine myself as conan the barbarian raiding cities and killing civilised people, its pretty fun

No, but I imagine myself talking to a few characters.

This was actually pretty fun to read. First I'll agree with in that you have a fantastic imagination. You really should be writing and not just imagining. Secondly, don't let people bully you out of doing this sort of thing. And since the thread allows for it I'll indulge in a story about my own imagination:

I used to be obsessed with DBZ in a similar way. I spent about 3-4 years writing up my own fictional DBZ character and storylines as part of a written-RPG game on some forum in which I could interact with other user's storylines. I was obsessed and it was easily my favorite thing to do. I come from a big family though. 8 kids. and one day I forgot to delete my history (we all shared one computer back then) and I got found out. They figured out which account was mine and started realizing the extent of my "autism" and that I had literally written hundreds of thousands of words of DBZ fanfic. I was bullied to death, and I even had adults question why what I am writing for as if I was stupid, or childish. It was probably a similar experience to being involuntarily outed as a homosexual. I feel in many ways my imagination, and passion for writing was stolen from me. And even though I can look back and sort of laugh about it now I am upset that I let others dictate what I do with my own time.

I also agree with ...you should start branching out and thinking about original material. You clearly have the imagination for it.

Doing stuff like this has been the only way that I can get to sleep since I was very small. I'm a grown ass adult who does this every night, and I remember doing it when I was 5.

The battle scene is an inevitable aspect of my imagined narrative however I haven't yet "completed" that part of the story. After waking early the following afternoon (I can't stress enough how important I believe sleep to be, and even the men who wake early as I the following day I encourage to sleep a little longer) my group of men and I begin to improve the defence of the gateway. Firstly we ask the male teenagers to gather as many large rocks as they are able, picking out a handful of boys to carry some larger stones up to the wall directly above the gate. Then we use the wheel-less bed of a wagon as a sort of lever on which many stones are gathered in order to be "tipped" onto anybody besieging the gateway below. Perhaps more importantly some of the skilled tradesmen among the Rohan peasants tie ropes around the large stone I mentioned, and then fix this rope to two large solid wood benches from the Hornburg great hall, which protrudes out over the stone "bridge" leading up to the gateway so that the large stone may be used as a "wrecking ball" of sorts to sweep away anybody below (if only once). Meanwhile I instruct the men (who are aided by regular Rohan soldiers who want to help) to overturn the other wagons in the courtyard outside the Hornburg's entrance in order to form yet another "all" where we may be forced to make a last stand. Behind these wagons barrels and other large objects (furniture etc) are placed so that the wall can't simply be pushed away by the Uruk-Hai hoardes. On that day I go down to speak to Haldir, who I have escorted once many years ago when he visited Rivendale as a low-ranking Elf (a rather shy, self-doubting one) and who I met years later in Lothlorien when he had assumed a more senior position in Elvish society. We stand on the wall talking and to my right, in the space behind the wall (which is not really used for anything in the movie) the Elves have set up their white tents on the ground cleared of jagged rock and some are talking to the men of Rohan (some Rohan women may be seen carrying down broth and stews for the Elves to try, and then stand shyly nearby as they and their husbands await the Elves' reaction) and some Elves are gathered around some horses where a man of Rohan is teaching them about the horse and offering them short rides which causes great laughter among them as the graceful Elf is seen panicking atop the beast, his composure shot. Many Elves however are obviously only here as a matter of duty, and sit or stand by themselves further along the wall talking only to one another. One thing I dislike about the Two Towers movie is that the Elves arrive only moments before the battle itself begins. However, I would greatly doubt that an army of ten thousand Uruk-Hai would simply march somewhere without using scouts (as they do with the wargs earlier in the movie), and that a company of Elves could find their way through the semi-darkness to Helm's Deep without torches, thus "giving

away" their position. And so my Elves arrive a day earlier. As I go down with Haldir to have dinner (attended by my crush, who is of course Elvish and who is making good friends with some young and older women from Rohan) I am distracted however by men atop the wall yelling and cheering. I run up to see what is happening and see that a loose band of wargs mounted by orcs are running back and forth the length of the wall. "Stop it" I yell, warning the men that these wargs are simply attempting to waste the men's supply of arrows ahead of the battle. Some of the orcs atop the wargs carry decapitated heads and throw them on the ground as they realize the game is up and ride back away into the distance. Back at the meal some joy is experienced as we talk of old days, and my crush blushes intensely and smiles toward the ground as Haldir and some other Elves recount how she had frightened them by sneaking into their group suddenly and demanding to be taken to Helm's Deep and becoming aggressive when they told her it was impossible. Quietly to Haldir, I say "thank you" and look at him in a way that communicates the fact I am rather embarrassed by the intensity of the love I feel for [her] and the consequences of our mutual attraction. What I should add, in respect to my relationship with [her], is that miscegenation in the Middle Earth of my imagined narrative is quite a serious issue indeed, and one of the main reasons I was so hesitant to make my romantic longing known to my Elvish crush in Rivendale is not only the difference in social class but also because I am a human while she is an Elf. For example, in the camp at Helm's Deep many young women from Rohan are attracted by the Elvish warriors, though there is no real frustration or hostility between the Elvish men and Human women because each side knows that it is very unlikely they will inter-breed, because each is aware that while this may be fun in the short-term, their loyalty to their race or clan (as Gimli would say) is so strong that inter-breeding is now a practical long-term strategy for either race. So while flirtation is acceptable, inter-marriage is very rare indeed. In my own case, I believe that having lived with the Elves for most of my life, and also being from Numenor, I am something of a "free agent" in some respects, and am quite Elvish culturally speaking. To Elrond I am (like Aragorn is literally in the novels) something of an adopted orphan and thus a son of sorts. Speaking Elvish also doesn't hurt. After our meal I head back to the Hornburg to receive further treatment for my wounds. As I am sitting there being wiped clean by my crush, I see a group of Rohan teenager males pretending to fight with the sheaths of their father's (or other male relative's) swords. I call them over and ask whether Theoden or Hama have given them instructions as to their role in the upcoming battle. They say no, but that they have been told (to their annoyance) that they were told to sharpen

Hi r/Veeky Forums

swords for the soldiers and the yeomen who are forced to fight also. But the swords, they complain, have already been whetted and many of the men are already armed and insist on whetting their own weapons. I tell the boys to go and see if there are any bows left over to arm themselves with. They race each other down the stone steps towards the armoury and soon return with a few bows, but most remain unarmed. I tell the boys to go down to the Elves and to say that I sent them, and if they have any bows to spare (I am certain they will) and when they return each boy has a bow and a good stock of arrows. I guide them through the basics of archery as my wounds continue to heal and playfight with them, causing my crush to laugh and some Rohan women to join in the laughter too. One of the boys says "can we fight alongside you?" and another says "oh please, let us!" but I say "no", and explain instead that they are to stand at the rear of the inner wall (close to the mountainside and thus away from any immediate harm) and loose their supply of arrows until they run out, at which point they are to return to the Glittering Caves and barricade the entrance however they can, with orders to protect the women and children therein. I must explain here that the notion of women and children being somewhat passive, fragile individuals in Lord of the Rings, while perhaps realistic and an accurate reflection of real life, is somewhat disappointing I imagine for female readers (with obvious exceptions in the roles of Eowyn etc). I have also developed a Harry Potter narrative for some time since one of the great feats accomplished by Rowling is developing a universe where battles are fought not by fists and swords but by intelligence and force of will, via potions, spells and wand battles. To encourage young men to enjoy reading about this universe really is something of an accomplishment in my eyes, since they can't simply punch Hermione in the face or behead Bellatrix with a sword, they must instead muster courage, discipline and academic intelligence to remember spells, curses and so forth. As dusk approaches we learn that the enemy have been spotted in the distance. Most men are armed, and while Theoden gives a rousing (if false and self-congratulatory, i.e. intended to be "recorded" and re-read by future generations to portray him as a proud warrior whose defeat was sadly inevitable due to reasons beyond his control) my crush and I sneak up to an upper floor room in the Hornburg and look out at the mass of torches gathered in the distance and repeat our expressions of love towards one another. The fact we may both die is now something we tacitly accept, like an elderly human couple approaching the end of their natural lives. We speak in Elvish and hold each others hands between our chests. At one point she removes her necklace, whose chain is of mithril (deceptively strong) and to which is attached a small white vial, which flashes suddenly as she removes it and

places it around my neck (I bow my head slightly to allow her to achieve this). I then remove my somewhat thicker gold chain which belonged to my father, on which is a medallion which is said to be lucky to travelers, and although she refuses to accept it at first I smile in a way that says it's okay and place it around her neck, and she holds the medallion in her fingers as if she has been granted entry into a more masculine world than what she has so far been acquainted with. I should perhaps point out that she, despite her feminine and "cute" appearance, is somewhat ambivalent (I perceive this at least) about her own gender performance, in the sense that like most intelligent women (Human or Elvish) she harbours misogynistic feelings that she can't quite rid herself of, feeling at times that men "have it best" and accomplish more while so many women allow themselves to remain childish, silly and inconsequential. While her nature dictates that she act in feminine ways (tender, maternal, caring and submissive) I see in her also a lingering frustration that she is now allowed to take part in things as the men are. For example while we overturned the wagons to construct a wall inside the Hornburg courtyard (as a last stand strategy) she attempted to join in, and only went back to assisting the other women when I went over to her and held her face in my hands and laughed, saying "please, you're of more help elsewhere". After we have exchanged necklaces, various horns are blown by both Rohan soldiers and Elves, mustering their men to their stations. My crush looks at me with wide eyes, fearful that we must now part. A few men in adjacent rooms receiving treatment for wounds or making sure nobody is left behind, enter the room and wait for us to join them. Downstairs in the great hall my crush and I find ourselves alone together. I am now dressed in my chainmail and black leather armour, with my sword sheathed, a stock of arrows on my back and a bow strung over my shoulder. I kiss my love's forehead and tell her in Elvish "I love you, in this life and the next" and we part (tearfully on her part). Outside it is beyond dusk and strangely silent. I climb the stone staircase up to the inner wall and then pass through the small gatehouse and over the short bridge to the outer wall. There I see the scale of our opposition. In the valley are countless torches and a dark mass chanting in a grunting, deep manner, the sound reverberating from the valley sides. One great thing about the Two Towers movie was that the Uruk-Hai could not communicate via speech, unlike in the novel where they chant and shout in poetic verse. Although this allowed Tolkien to provide an insight into the "fighting Uruk-Hai" and their culture, history and worldview, it turned them into near-human creatures which are too akin to the orcs, who are similar in that respect. In the movie however the Uruk-Hai serve as a confluence of two images, one being the kind of zombie hoardes which

oh my fucking god

No, but I do have my own world I go to in my head when I am overwhelmed or bored. It's complex and I am its benevolent ruler.

I also use the method of loci and I have a mind castle. I also lucidly dream when I can and have council meetings.

That's adorable.

i inagine myself spinning and twirling around people with a basketball and normally finish by dunking on them. i just realized this week that i do this. im not sure what to make of it

are so enjoyable to watch being slain in zombie films (most of which, in my opinion, aren't very good or at least don't fulfill their potential) and also of the racism which is natural for most people to experience when confronted with an alien culture and race, most notably, as with Lord of the Rings, with fair, gentle, highly-cultured white Humans and Elves with the barbaric, low IQ, pillaging, violent, brawny (thankfully not libidinal) black Uruk-Hai beasts. The confluence of these two subjects makes the battle of Helm's Deep, for me at least, perhaps the most exciting scene through the three movies. I must admit that I read the novels when I was quite young, and since I have watched the movies between now and then the details of the characters and scenes etc have thus become overshadowed by the influence of the movies, which is quite sad in a sense I suppose, but is also why I don't claim the battle of Helm's Deep is the best scene in the novels, since I barely remember that scene from my reading the books and subsequent re-readings have underwhelmed me somewhat, in part due to my love of the film depiction of the battle, and in part due to things like the Uruk-Hai talking and shouting poetic insults in the book. I take my place atop the main gate with the small group of men of Rohan I helped rescue during their attempted flight from Helm's Deep and the rocks to tip over onto the heads of the gatecrashers are prepared, as is the large "wrecking ball" rock which just needs to be pushed from the wall. The teenage boys in the distance are standing with their bows, more quiet and fearful now, perhaps regretting their earlier enthusiasm to fight but duty-bound nonetheless to defend their mothers, sisters and friends. The elves are standing motionless in tight formation along the walls, their white triangular flags trailing in the wind. There is quiet chatter among Theoden's inner circle who are standing on a vantage point along the inner wall. It begins to rain (to remain faithful to the movie) and although my men joke bleakly about the night getting even worse due to that face, I remain troubled by the fact I may never see my crush again. I turn around and look up at the window to the room where we earlier stood and exchanged jewelry, but can't make out anything inside. The Uruk-Hai approach and then stop at the distance of an arrow's flight, stomping the ground, striking their shields and beating the ground with their spears. Unlike in the movie, where a member of the Rohan yeomanary accidentally looses an arrow and kills an Uruk-Hai (causing them all somehow to cease chanting immediately) I instead see movement within the black hoard and instinctively shout for everyone to prepare their bows. Down along the long wall the Elves are already prepared, and the rain can be heard clamoring from armor all around. Suddenly from the black hoard several ladders appear being carried horizontally by dozens of Uruk-Hai. When they get nearer Theoden

Maybe I ask why you're in a sleeping bag? Do you not have a bed or do you just prefer the bag?

tells Hama to order a volley and a cry of "Volley!" is heard from behind, and we loose a storm of arrows down onto the approaching horde. The sound of bowstrings twanging can he heard, followed by the putter of arrows thudding into enemy armour and flesh below. The Elves are firing at a rapid rate, both from the long wall and from a formation positioned behind it on the ground, between the long wall and the tents still erected near the mountainface. I confess here that although I the narrative is familiar to me at this point, I have yet to really add sufficient detail to this battle scene, which is why it takes me so long to extend the narrative on any given daydreaming occasion. So in short the Uruk-Hai form a testudo and attack the main gate. But the poring down of rocks and also the swinging of the "wrecking ball" rock drives the first wave into confusion and the bowmen and spear-throwers manage to eradicate these initial attackers. But of course they do then reach the gate and, due to Helm's Deep having served as nothing more than an outpost for many years, the gate isn't as strong and well-maintained as it may have been, and thus the battering ram manages to break through some of the wood. Theoden has ordered that I and the returning men I command hold this gate as long as possible, and so as a show of devotion to him, and to allow my men to earn respect once more, I order a charge for my group when a large portion of the gate is demolished, and beneath a hail of arrows we manage to drive away a second wave while fighting on the bridge, before retreating before the Uruk-Hai crossbows can pick us off. Back inside the Rohan yeomen get to work barricading the gateway as best they can before further Uruk-Hai attack it. But then of course, as I am about to mount the wall and return to my station, I hear a loud boom and feel a vibration which almost causes my legs to collapse beneath me. Stunned, I run to the entrance to the long stairwell near the mounatainface which leads down to the area behind the long wall. There I and several Rohan soldiers look down and see a great hole in the long wall and debris scattered all around. Small stones rain down on us and chink against our armour as a cloud of grey dust settles below and torches being to appear in the hole. I bound down the steps, and see Haldir on the wall with a small group of Elvish soldiers looking towards the source of the explosion. His Elves, meanwhile, are fighting atop the wall as the Uruk-Hai and Uruk-Hai berserkers continue to scale the ladders and assault his troops. I see Haldir run down the stone steps of the outer wall, and despite shouting "Haldir! Haldir!" he does not hear me and arrives at the formation of Elves behind the long wall, who have positioned themselves close to the exploded hole. Haldir runs along the formation, shouting something which causes the Elves to cease firing arrows and to draw their weapons instead. Before I can reach them they have already charged, a

I am currently at what would probably be considered, from an external perspective, a "low point" in my life, and since I try and possess as few material things as possible (if only for practical reasons) I don't appreciate having to wash pillowcases, blanket covers and sheets every fortnight or so, and having to carry an additional copy of each when they are being washed and dried. So I sleep in a sleeping bag instead, which doesn't need cleaning often and dries quickly after a wash.

Fair enough. I am hoping you wash the sleeping bag, though. That can gather a lot of sweat.

I've often thought about doing the same but prefer my bed as does my puppy.

when i was a kid i would daydream about being at the big banquet at the end of asterix books
even now it seems like the most perfect thing in the world
i wouldn't want it to ever end

a truly tragic sight to witness considering that these Elves, a truly insular and often rather supercilious race, are not fighting for the defense of their own lands but for the lives of their traditional allies, charging what's more into a battle they must be aware they will lose. "Haldir!" I cry out, joining the charge. He hears my name and turns as his men begin their attempt to block the hole in the long wall. I approach him and say that it is no use his men sacrificing themselves so wantonly, and to retreat back to the inner walls where a more constructive defense may be organized. Now one thing that isn't quite made clear as far as I can recall is how exactly one gets from the lower, long wall to the main fortress keep. There is of course the lengthy stairwell leading up to the outer wall, but from the longer wall too it is sometimes suggested that a soldier on the long wall may pass through a passageway to reach the passageway which winds up from the main gate to the archway leading to the Hornburg courtyard. However, in my narrative this entrance is blocked up before the battle begins so that no stray Uruk-Hai may sneak through and cause mayhem at the rear of the men who are guarding the main gateway. So for the Elves there is only the stairwell, which is not steeps but which is rather lengthy and winds around and up to an archway leading to the middle passage between the two walls. I raise my arm and beckon them away, yelling "retreat!" and "fall back to the inner walls!" in Elvish. Many are slain already and some are pursued by Uruk-Hai who in many cases simply leap on an Elf and pin them down with their weight as other Uruk-Hai come to beat him to death with their solid metal swords which aren't sharp at all and used more as a bludgeoning tool than a skilled weapon. I myself don't immediately flee, instead attempting to fight off the few Uruk-Hai who have broken ranks and ran ahead with the fleeing Elves, and to help a few Elves who have tripped or have found themselves isolated and unable to catch up with their peers. Elvish bowmen meanwhile have stopped on the stairwell further up and are firing their arrows down on the dark horde. Along with the Elvish stragglers I run up the stairwell, Elves and Rohan yeomen alike firing their missiles down behind us. Inside the archway a phalanx of experienced Rohan soldiers with Hama in their front line is preparing to defend the archway, and further down I see the men I have been tasked with commanding still at the gate vainly attempting to prevent the Uruk-Hai, who have broken through the main gate again but are hindered by the timber and other items used to delay their advance. At that moment I become aware in a first-hand sense of the fact we may all be slaughtered shortly. This is pretty much the point I've reached in my own narrative, which has taken months to slowly elaborate. I am aware of what happens until we are forced inside the Hornburg itself, but again the details and logistics

I do this with a skateboard. Especially when I’m riding in a car.

haven't been sufficiently organized, and this will probably take several more weeks or months to do.

I sometimes fantasize about being in a culture orbital at night, with this massive distant glittering vista hanging overhead. It's comfy, I can only think about comfy things when going to sleep, any other form of creativity is mentally activating and I don't really know why.

Please one day use your talents to actually make something that's not on the internet Memoirsan

>helms deep
>elves

After reading this thread, I daydream that I will one day be as comfortable with my autistic tendencies as OP. You have transformed idle neckbeard fantasies into a sublime art form, crafting intricate worlds to match the efforts of the most infamous outsider artists.
Godspeed, you beautiful soul, may that sleeping bag keep you warm against the coldness of this artless world.

Nice thread op, you might have maladaptive daydreaming. Google it.

That's incredible, OP. I get this feeling of comfiness knowing you're out there, doing this.

>Godspeed, you beautiful soul, may that sleeping bag keep you warm against the coldness of this artless world.
YES
Thank you