The battle was now in full swing. The singing of bows firing deadly arrows at the enemy, and the swishing hack of swords slicing through flesh was marring the once peaceful air. Screams of rage, pain, death, and fear were clashing horribly, and causing most subjected to them to cringe. The clank of metal boots and chain link was deafening.
The muddied ground was no longer visible due to the piles of cooling corpses that had accumulated. Orcs lay on top of elves, which lay on top of men, who were crushed against the cold ground. Most of the beings eyes were cold and unseeing, locked in the constant stare of death. Their mouths were set in grimaces, frowns, gapes of shock, and thin lines of hopelessness.
Then there were the few that had their eyes closed and their mouths neutral, they almost looked like they could be sleeping. However, the blood, gore, and unbearable wounds gave them away.
Standing above, and among, the decaying bodies the remaining numbers of the living fought viciously.
The battalions of elves had decreased drastically. The once mighty number of two-hundred had been squashed to a depressing twenty or thirty. The marchwarden had fallen, and now the elves fought blindly.
With their beloved leader gone, they desperately searched for a figure to follow. Some found leadership in the elves next to them, but most looked to the lone Mirkwood elf for guidance.
Legolas had been fairly clueless to his new followers, but when he did take notice of them he jumped into control. Screaming from the best perk he could find, he ordered them to kill any orc or uruk that moved. They stood in their places and looked at the blonde elf with hopeless eyes. Legolas' heart broke for them and their loss, but now was not the time to grieve. As he quickly decapitated an oncoming orc, he yelled a final battle cry in elvish.
"Gurth goth rim tel'quessir!"(Death to the foes of the elves!)
The Lorien elves nodded grimly and set about their task, leaving the Mirkwood elf to return to the protection of the wall and his friends standing next to him.
Then there were the men or boys more accurately. Most of the men who were actually of age had been killed, leaving the boys, some no older than ten years of age, to continue fighting. Most of the oversized armor had been discarded, seeing as it hindered them and therefore cut down their slim odds of survival even more.
The young boys could be seen holding up swords, which were much too heavy for them, to take blind swings at the attacking orcs, or block a fatal blow.
The few remaining soldiers were trying exceedingly hard to protect the younger humans as much as possible, but their own survival was clouding the protective side of their minds.
Among the men, elves, and orcs, stood a small party of completely random soldiers. Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli had somehow managed to stay together during the chaos of the battle. They were each slightly overwhelmed by the number of enemies, but continued on regardless.
The elf and dwarf occasionally shouted at each other with updates about the scoring contest.
Aragorn stood in-between them. His clothes and skin were doused in foul orcish blood, which was spilling from the fatal wounds he was delivering. His grunts of exertion were growing louder and louder with each orc that he slaughtered. He continually checked in on his friends , and the surrounding area.
When he noticed that Gimli had been seperated slightly, he held no worry. The dwarf was doing just fine, and was killing mass amounts of uruks and orcs.
On his fifth or sixth check his mouth formed a frantic gape and he ran to the edge of the wall. He shouted for the elf when he saw the painted orc running towards the walls. A single torch was in its hand and if it reached its destination, an entire section of wall would crumble.
"Dago han!" (Kill it!)
Legolas turned sharply to see what the ranger was squawking about. His eyes widened when he spotted the sprinting orc. The elf quickly drew an arrow and let it fly. The weapon embedded it's deeply into the shoulder of the orc. Much to the ranger's, and the elf's surprise, the creature continued running. The arrow had barely slowed him down.
Aragorn became even more agitated as he pleaded with the elf.
"Dago han! Legolas! Dago han!" (Kill it! Legolas! Kill it!)
Legolas became desperate as he shot several more arrows. One more hit the orc's shoulder and the other embedded in his chest. The elf was flabbergasted. His arrow had struck the heart, how was the beast still running. Legolas turned to see Aragorn looking at him with pleading eyes.
The elf's mind was racing a mile a minute. Suddenly it dawned on him.
If he didn't do anything right this second, Aragorn and many others were going to die. He knew that there wasn't anything he could at this point to kill the orc, so he did the one thing he could.
Legolas drew a deep breath and ran to the ranger. Time seemed to slow when the elf pushed the man forward. Aragorn fell backwards and stumbled over several broken bodies and discarded weapons. He looked to the elf in confusion and froze when he saw what the elf was doing. In seconds he had managed to clear most of the men from the area. Legolas turned towards him and smiled sadly. Aragorn became deeply worried when he saw the beginnings of tears in Legolas' eyes. The ranger was about to raise himself from the group when the unthinkable happened.
The orc had reached its endpoint and had ignited the explosives. Aragorn was blown backwards slightly. When he had righted himself enough to see clearly, he watched in horror when he saw Legolas fall backwards with the broken ground, before he tumbled down with the debris. Several men fell with him, most were dead before they hit the ground.
The man turned his head when the dust stung his eyes. Immediately after it began clearing, he leapt from his spot on the wall. He peered over the edge of the broken section, searching madly. His eyes roamed from the large slabs of rubble, to the broken bodies of men. He felt tears form when he couldn't locate the elf. Orcs were now swarming the newly made hole, killing the few that had survived.
Aragorn released a single choked sob, and bit back tears. He quickly closed his eyes in pain. He calmed his breath to the best of his ability, and stood slowly. He bowed his head and placed a hand over his heart.
"Hiro îth ab 'wanath Legolas." (May you find peace in death Legolas.)
He straightened and turned when he heard evil chuckling behind him. The uruk leader was standing behind him. Aragorn clenched his fists in rage and grief and raised his sword. The orc sneered at him and raised its weapon in suit.
"A little tense human?"
Aragorn spat at the orc's feet.
"You have no idea."
He swung his blade and charged the orc, one more battle cry falling from his lips like the few tears that fell from his eyes.
"I will bring revenge to the fallen! I will bring revenge to Legolas Thranduilion, prince of Mirkwood!"
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