(Arthur POV)
The makeshift studio buzzes with nervous energy as we prepare for our first scene. I scan the set, taking in every detail. The crew scurries about, making last-minute adjustments, while the cast runs through their lines one final time.
My eyes land on Shafel, our Galadriel.
She's chatting with Firfel; they seem to be getting along well.
I have to admit, while Firfel will always hold a special place in my heart, Shafel has a certain ethereal quality that's perfect for Galadriel. It's not just about beauty - it's about presence, and Shafel has it in spades.
Taking a deep breath, I clap my hands, drawing everyone's attention. "Alright, folks, this is it. We're about to start rolling. Everyone to your places."
The chatter dies down as the three elven actors - Shafel and two male elves whose names escape me at the moment - take their positions.
I make my way to the director's chair, feeling the weight of expectation settle on my shoulders.
"Quiet on set," I call out, my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach. "And... action!"
The scene springs to life. Our elven actors slip on their rings with practiced grace, their expressions shifting to one of wonder.
The camera zooms in on Shafel, capturing every nuance of her fascination.
I nod to Elizabeth, our resident wind mage. "Cast the wind spell."
A gentle breeze sweeps across the set, making the actors' hair dance. But suddenly—
"Cough!"
Jason, one of our male elves, chokes on the unexpectedly strong gust.
"Cut!" I call out, unable to hold back a chuckle. The set erupts in laughter, the tension breaking like a dam.
As we reset for another take, Jason approaches me, worry etched on his face. "I messed up... Will I be replaced?"
I shake my head, still grinning. "No, no. It's not your fault." I turn to our overzealous wind mage. "Elizabeth, try dialing it back a notch, yeah?"
"Yes, boss," she nods, looking slightly sheepish.
Jason still seems on edge, so I give his shoulder a reassuring pat. "Hey, don't sweat it. If you're worried about wasted film, don't be. We'll use it for bloopers."
"Bloopers?" Jason echoes, confusion replacing worry.
"Yeah, you know, funny outtakes. Trust me, the audience loves that stuff." I flash him a conspiratorial wink. "Now, let's nail this scene, shall we?"
As everyone retakes their positions, I can't help but feel a surge of affection for this ragtag bunch. We might not be the most polished crew in the business, but damn if we don't have heart.
"Alright, people. Take two. And... action!"
The first scene wraps quickly - just a few seconds of the elves gazing at their rings in wonder, Shafel's golden hair dancing in the magical breeze. It's short, but powerful. I can already envision how it'll set the tone for the entire film.
We move on, scene by scene, each one a piece of the puzzle that will become our epic tale. The furnace where the rings are forged glows with an otherworldly light, casting long shadows across the set.
Next up are the dwarves. Seven of them, decked out in intricate costumes that would make any dwarf lord proud. They cradle their rings, their eyes gleaming with a mix of awe and greed that sends a shiver down my spine. It's perfect.
The human kings follow, six noble figures succumbing to the allure of power. Then come the demons - our stand-ins for the nine mortal men. For their scene, I've gone all out with the set design. Flames lick at the edges of the frame, shadows dance ominously. It's deliciously over-the-top, and I love every second of it.
Hours fly by as we shoot and reshoot, perfecting each moment. By the time we wrap, I'm exhausted but exhilarated. We're making progress.
There's just one piece missing - Sauron forging the One Ring in Mount Doom. But that can wait. The armor will make Sauron easy enough to cast, but first, we need our army of orcs.
As I wrap up for the day, my mind's already racing ahead. Casting orcs in a world where they actually exist... I've got to admit, it's a fascinating challenge.
But 'fascinating' doesn't mean 'easy'. A few days back, I bit the bullet and spent a whopping two hundred thousand Entertainment Points on a powerful spell called the Nether Surge. It's some seriously dark magic that boosts mana and magical power.
Now my Entertainment Points are practically on life support. Even with "The Demonfather" still raking in cash - 170 million and counting, a record-breaker if I do say so myself - the influx of points has slowed to a trickle. I'm down to about ten thousand points. It's still growing, sure, but nowhere near the flood it was before.
Was it worth it? I'd like to think so. I've been holed up in the training area, practicing this new spell until I'm blue in the face. It's all for the orcs, though. From what I know, they only respect raw power. So that's exactly what I'm going to give them.
The plan is simple: walk into orc territory, flex some magical muscle, and hope they're impressed enough to willingly join my little film project.
***
Filming's never a walk in the park, but we're managing. It's funny how a few seconds on screen can eat up hours of our lives. But that's the magic of cinema, I suppose.
With the interior scenes wrapped, it's time to head back to Green Forest. I don't need to drag the whole studio team along - I've got another crew camped out there, ready and waiting. It's a bit extravagant, having two full teams, but hey, that's what those millions in the bank are for, right?
I step through the portal, and bam - I'm back in Green Forest. The crew there jumps like they've been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Guess they were enjoying the downtime a bit too much.
"Boss, you're here already- um, welcome back," one of them stammers, trying to look busy.
I can't help but chuckle. "Alright, guys, vacation's over. Time to earn your keep."
Morning breaks over our makeshift Shire, and we dive right into Gandalf's arrival. The old wizard's meeting with Frodo is pivotal, setting the stage for everything to come.
Watching Kurt bring Frodo to life is something else. Sure, he flubs a line here and there, and we have to reshoot a few times, but there's an authenticity to his performance that gives me goosebumps. The kid's a natural, no two ways about it.
As night falls, the set transforms into a bustle of activity. It's Bilbo's eleventy-first birthday, and we're pulling out all the stops. The air crackles with excitement - and magic.
See, fireworks in this world aren't just gunpowder and pretty colors. They're imbued with honest-to-goodness spells, capable of conjuring fantastical displays that would make even the most jaded pyrotechnician weep with joy. It's costing us a small fortune, but the authenticity it brings to the scene is priceless.
People here will see these magical fireworks and instantly connect. It's not just special effects - it's a slice of their reality, elevated to cinematic proportions.
But I couldn't resist adding a touch from my past life. Working with our wizard department, we've crafted a special firework. It's a dragon, just like in the original film, brought to life with a complex cocktail of illusion spells and other magical trickery I can barely wrap my head around.
The scrolls for this particular firework cost more than some people's yearly salary, but as I watch it soar over our Shire set, scattering hobbits (well, our half-human half-dwarf actors) in its wake, I know it's worth every penny.
This, right here, is the magic of moviemaking.
It's taking the familiar and making it extraordinary. As I call "Cut!" on another take, I can't help but grin.
We're not just making a movie - we're creating a whole new world.