Foreword: The following may differ slightly from actual events. It was pieced together from the limited records of the evil army.
At the beginning of the game, all seemed to go well. Radagast was captured, and the evil army was headed towards Bree to see what had become of the small army Sauron had put there. The news was bleak, but the forces of evil marched on. Capturing citadels, plundering, and destroying as they went. Then at 2:30, they headed to Mount Doom, ready to defend it against the forces of good. Sauron's army listened to her every command, stayed in perfect formation and made no sound, as the perimeter was set. At 3:30, the good army attacked, blew threw the perimeter, but was overwhelmed as the great evil hoard poured over them in such numbers as has never been seen before. The Ring was recaptured for Sauron, and the Dark lord ruled supreme for eternity, casting darkness over the land forever.
Or, it could have happened like this…
At 3:30, the evil army waited patiently for the chance to win their master's favor by capturing the Ring and returning it to her. All was silent. Then out of nowhere appeared the good army: a machine, a hoard of droids, that swept through the forces of evil as if they were nothing but ants to be stepped upon. Gandalf bravely kept Sauron at bay, as the good army raced to the top of the mountain only to come face-to-face with the ultimate challenge. Waiting at the top of Mount Doom was something so frightening, so terrible, and so unreal, that records of its existence had been questioned up to this point. It was the great Mouth of Sauron, her right-hand man. He wielded a blade of fire and lightning; the sky seemed black behind him. With one mighty swipe, half the good army was flown down the mountain. All hope for the good army was lost, save for a daring hobbit who drew his blade and threw it with all his might. The Valar were with them this day, as the blade, against all odds, flew through the sky, striking the Mouth dead as it flew into his flesh (if indeed he had any). That hobbit was Samwise the Brave, who knew that his master Frodo must get the Ring to the Crack of Doom or all that is good in the world would be forever lost. The world was saved that day by two hobbits (one a ring bearer, the other his gardener).
Afterword: Kudos to the good army for a job well done. Todd: wish you could have been there, your plan was fantastic. I was ready to concede defeat at 3:15, when I knew the good army could take out my army with no problem. Scott: great job playing a wizard role thrown at you at the last minute (Although it is not surprising at all that you did a great job). To Saruman: amazing job trying to stall at the end of the game. It may have been fruitless, but at least we did go down with a fight (albeit a very very very small one). To all the evil army (and the good army): I hope you had a great time. I know I did.
Till next time,
Katie