Last Time on Chapter 047 of [From Shadows To The Spotlight] —
An Uruk-Hai charged at Aragorn, his warhammer raised up high—only to stop mid-lunge, its body stiffening as a spearhead erupted from its chest.
The beast staggered a few steps before collapsing dead at their feet.
The camera panned, revealing Alex's nameless soldier standing tall despite his injuries.
His leather-and-steel armor marked him as a mercenary, an outsider among the knights of Rohan, but his stance was unwavering.
Blood dripped from his forehead, his grip on the spear tight despite his obvious exhaustion.
"Go," he rasped, voice raw. "I'll hold them off."
Viggo turned to him, shaking his head. "Come with us."
Now Continuing —
Aragorn hesitated, his instincts screaming at him not to leave a man behind. But before he could say anything, Gimli grabbed his arm, shaking his head.
The dwarf had seen warriors like this before—men who had already accepted their fate, who had chosen to die on their own terms.
With a heavy heart, Aragorn met Alex's gaze, nodding in silent respect.
"Your name?" Aragorn asked, a final gesture to acknowledge the nameless warrior's sacrifice.
Alex turned slightly, his lips curving into the faintest ghost of a smile. "My Name.. is Soldier," he said, voice firm. "And by my spear, these Uruks will know WAR."
Then he turned back to the fight, already engaging another foe.
From above, Legolas saw the exchange and, without hesitation, resumed firing, covering Aragorn and Gimli as they made their escape.
As they climbed the rope ladder, Aragorn stole one last glance at the warrior below. He watched as he moved with deadly efficiency, his spear dancing through the air, felling orc after orc with precision that only years of battle could instill.
The scene cut there, but the intensity lingered in the air. As Peter Jackson called for a break, there was a brief, heavy silence before applause erupted across the set.
Extras, crew members, even the other actors clapped, the raw emotion of the scene still fresh in their minds.
Alex, still catching his breath, wiped the fake blood from his brow and grinned slightly as he said to the excited Peter. "Not bad for a nameless extra."
Peter clapped him on the shoulder. "That, my friend," he said with a grin, "was legendary."
But the scene wasn't over yet.
They had stopped for a short break to let the extras and the stuntmen to catch their breath.
It would have been better to continue tomorrow, but Alex didn't really want to draw out the filming too much, as it would cause their costs to quickly burgeon out of control.
He might be a billionaire, but he wasn't one to waste money like Cameron did on trivial things.
The memory of one of the Titanic's producers telling him about Cameron insisting on spending hundreds of thousands of dollars just for an authentic set of silverware left him puzzled. He wondered whether he should laugh or cry about the eccentric man at the helm of such a pivotal project.
After half an hour or so, they would film his final stand—the moment Alex's nameless warrior would be ambushed by the orc commander, a battle that would end in sacrifice and glory.
For now, though, they let the moment breathe, allowing the weight of it to settle. The battle was far from finished, both in the film and in reality.
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Daniel stepped up to greet Alex, intending to tell him of Joanne's arrival. But when he got close, he noticed how intently his boss was going over every minute detail about the next scene with the stunt director and Peter.
It would be a pivotal scene for his character, and only more so for the film.
While he hadn't seen it yet, Alex had told him about what he intended for the scene to look like, complete with storyboards of the scene that looked more like a painting straight out of an epic.
He was certain that this would be one of the scenes from the Trilogy that would be immortalized in the hearts of every LOTR fan and catapult Alex's fame to unprecedented heights.
While he was lost in his internal musings, Alex had finally noticed him standing nearby and called out to him. "Dan? Is she here?"
"Yeah, she came in about an hour and half ago. She is in love with all this and is more than happy to wait if you can't meet now." He let it all out at once, as he didn't want to disturb Alex while he was in the zone.
His boss, while being one of the most versatile artists in Hollywood, it was a fact that he wasn't an actor, and scenes like these were already pushing whatever meager acting ability he possessed.
He absolutely didn't want to distract him at such an important moment, as it might break his flow and lead to multiple re-shoots.
"Can you tell her that I really appreciate her patience? I'm not an actor, obviously, so I want to stay in the flow state as much as possible and get through this scene with as few retakes as possible." Alex requested with an apologetic smile on his face.
"Is that why your character only has 4 lines of dialogues?" Daniel asked, holding back his smirk.
"I thought that was obvious; the less I speak, the fewer the chances there will be of me messing it up." Alex replied with a shrug, not caring about the slight, as he was totally comfortable in his skin.
He knew he wasn't a gift actor; he wasn't very expressive and maintained a stoic and stony face. And while that might have been a bad thing in normal circumstances, it was the natural disposition for a mercenary, so he was perfect for the role.
"Smart." Daniel nodded with an impressed look on his face.
"Thanks, but I can't take all the credit. It was Soap who gave me the idea after hearing my complaints about the role when I took a break for the holidays and the interview."
"Sharp kid, that one. Also, great call about allowing the crew to take a break and visit family for Christmas. They might not say it, but they're all really grateful."
"That she is, but I think you forgot where I started from, Dan. I was once in their shoes, wishing and praying that the producer or director would allow us to go back to our families for the holidays or emergencies."
"You know, Dan.. I missed my sister's high school graduation because I was the only one the director trusted with handling the special effects for the predator."
"The schedule and we couldn't afford to stop for 3 days; Reily was a fucking penny pincher, and we were in the middle of the jungle."
"But if I left, then the project would be in jeopardy, and that's the livelihood of over a 100 people. I couldn't leave them hanging high and dry."
"She didn't show it. But I knew she was hurt. It was the day she realized that she wasn't my No. 1 priority. It hurt me even more to disappoint her like that.. That day, I made a promise that family would always come first. Not just for me, but also the people who work for me."
"I might be cruel sometimes with how demanding I can be.. but I'm not a monster, Dan. Everyone deserves to be with their family and loved ones on Christmas."
"Actually, it's the opposite, sir.. sometimes it feels like you're too kind. Well then.. I will leave it to you, boss." He replied and headed off towards his guest.
"Keep her company. I will meet with her after this scene is over." Alex called out before moving back to the stuntmen and extras.
"Will do." He called back without turning.
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The rain machines were put to rest now, as it was a moment that needed full clarity. The moment was going to be a display of pure skills and the indomitable human spirit; they were trying to capture such emotions and aura.
Alex had taken his position, as a supervisior stepped forward, making small adjustments to his posture and grip. He calmly listened to her orders as she did her job while thinking about the upcoming battle.
He had been practicing how to properly wield a spear in battle for the past year, at first he had wanted to use a sword. But then, after thinking about his role in this scene and the greater narrative, his character wielding a spear would be more sensible. First, he had to hold off the Uruk's advance.
For a task like that, a spear was better suited, especially in a limited space like the bridge. It allowed him to use the spear's extended range to zone his enemies and hold them off for much longer than what could be possible with a sword.
Another thing was that spears were mostly weapons that were wielded by mercenaries and bodyguards. It would add depth to his character when considered alongside his line, where he proclaimed himself as a mere soldier.
While Alex was immersed in his thoughts, Francois had completed all his checks and adjustments.
They wanted to capture this moment in all its glory, as he knew that Alex would wield the spear like a pro, so they wanted to use glimpses of this scene in the trailer to hype up the movie.
"Action!" Peter called out.
The scene played out flawlessly.
The cameras tracked every movement, from the tension in Aragorn's shoulders to the wind-whipped strands of Alex's bloodied hair.
Now was the time for the real fight to begin.
The Uruk-hai, realizing the humans were slipping away, roared in fury. More surged forward, their grotesque weapons gleaming under the firelight. Alex planted his feet, gripping his spear tighter. He was a single man against an army, and yet he stood as if he were an entire battalion.
He fought with precision, every thrust and parry a testament to his character's skill. The choreography had been rehearsed by him and the stunt team to perfection, but it was the raw emotion that made it real. He fought not just to buy time, but as a final act of defiance, a testament to the resilience of men who refused to kneel.
The battle was grueling, and each exchange left him more battered. His movements slowed, his injuries weighing him down, but still, he fought.
Then came the final blow.
An Uruk commander, towering and monstrous, stepped forward. His armor was blackened steel, his jagged longsword drenched in crimson. There was something unsettlingly familiar about the way the creature looked, the way its cruel eyes seemed to linger on Alex, as if savoring the moment.
The resemblance to John Langston had been deliberate—a private jab, a symbolic representation of the real-life battle Alex had fought against the studio executive's machinations.
The Uruk lunged from behind his minions, trying to land an underhanded blow by catching our Nameless Soldier unaware. But Alex did take note, though unfortunately he was bogged down by the other Uruks and couldn't counter properly.
He twisted out of the way, raising his spear to parry, but he was too slow.
Pain erupted in his gut as the bastard sword plunged straight through him.
A collective gasp echoed across the set. The cameras zoomed in on Alex's trembling form, the blade buried deep in his stomach, the fake blood pouring out in thick rivulets from the pouch that had been carefully placed by the props.
The silence was deafening. The knights behind the barricade ceased their hammering and cheers, their faces etched with horror. The Uruk-hai let out jeering howls of victory, emboldened by their commander's triumph.
Langston's doppelgänger sneered, pushing the blade deeper. Alex's body shuddered, blood pooling at his feet. The Uruk leaned in, savoring the moment as if assured of his victory.
A mistake.
Alex groaned, his body sagging forward as if his soul had his body.
But then a miracle happened—
His grip on the spear tightened.
With a final, defiant burst of strength, Alex whipped his spear in a deadly arc. The motion was lightning-fast, precise, and unstoppable. The steel tip cleaved through fake flesh and bones, splitting the Uruk commander from crotch to neck.
The beast gurgled, choking on its own blood, its grotesque eyes widening in shock, and the light in its eyes flickered before it collapsed in a lifeless heap.
Alex staggered but refused to fall. His breath came in ragged gasps, his vision blurred. Blood dripped from his lips as he turned his gaze toward the knights above.
His voice, weak yet unwavering, cut through the battlefield.
"Warriors of Rohan!" he bellowed with as much power he could put in his words as possible. "Fight—or be forgotten."
It was a line that would be remembered for years to come.
A rallying cry.
A legend in the making.
The battlefield stood frozen in time.
Alex's nameless soldier, impaled yet unbroken, loomed over the corpse of the Uruk commander, his spear still clutched in blood-slicked fingers.
His final war cry had echoed across the fortress, shaking the hearts of all those who heard it. The warriors of Rohan gritted their teeth, steeling their resolve.
Even as the Uruk-hai jeered and roared mindlessly again after falling silent upon witnessing the death of their commander, they were emboldened by their sheer numbers.
But their roars and jaunts did not matter, as Alex's impassioned words had ignited the hearts of every warrior present on the scene, and the tide of the battle had shifted.
But our soldier was out of time.
His legs trembled, and his vision blurred at the edges. His armor was slick with blood—his own and that of the countless enemies he had slain. Alex's breaths came shallow, ragged, and he knew his strength was failing.
His eyes locked onto something. The commander's corpse bore a deadly burden—a bomb.
The orcs had planned to use it to break through the very gates the Rohirrim had fought so desperately to reinforce, to undo all that had been fought for.
Summoning the last of his strength, he raised his spear. His grip steadied. He aimed.
The camera cut.
"Reset! Get ready for the next take!"
The tension shattered in an instant. The crew rushed in, makeup artists dabbing fresh fake blood onto Alex's wounds, stunt coordinators resetting the battlefield.
Alex exhaled deeply, shaking the weight of the moment from his shoulders. He rolled his neck, cracking the stiffness out, before shooting a grin at Peter Jackson.
"How was that?"
Jackson grinned. "Bloody brilliant. I don't think we need another take."
"Good, let's end it here. Set the charges and ask the Steven to double-check everything. I don't actually want to go out in a blaze of glory."
Peter chuckled as he replied, "I'll make sure he does." But then stopped laughing as he sincerely said, "Hollywood can't afford to lose a man like you, Masters."
Alex's eyes widened at the praise, it felt good to be acknowledged. Those words filled a part of that gaping hole of fears and insecurities that he carried in his heart. It had been slowly filling up over the years, but still rendered him mute in the genuine praise and admiration.
'Thank you.' He mouthed back, as his voice failed him once again.
— To be Continued...
{2,545 words}
{TRL: This is the new Hollywood story that has been bouncing around in my head. I really need to get this out, so here's another chapter.
Also would you like to read ahead? You can do so for free up to 3 chapters ahead of the public release on my Patreon page as Free Member.
Yes, free. If you're interested you'll find the link in the Author's thoughts section or just google TheRamenLord and Patreon.
If you like my work and would like to support me then by becoming a paid member you read from 10 to 15 chapters ahead of the public release depending on tier you purchase.}