"Soon after we left the Grey Havens, hîr Círdan sent word out to all the commanding officers to gather with him and the Men of Gondor. A short meeting was held after the first day of marching. News had reached us, news from Fornost and our enemy. It did not contain much, though the information it held made us look grim. An estimation on the enemy's number was given, and it was clear that even though we had a vast army, the enemy overshadowed ours with great numbers..."
"We knew it was bound to be a bloody battle, for we realised the oncoming fight would determine the fate of Eriador and perhaps Middle-Earth itself. Our command awaited more news anxiously when we marched further away from Míthlond. Though none of the scouts came back."
"A week after the first news came in, we still had not received any message. Angmar knew of our scouts and spies. So it was on that evening of the eight day, that hîr Círdan sent word to me to come. The meeting was short yet clear. I was to join a group of scouts with the Elves of my household, to keep them safe. The order troubled me, for we all knew none of our scouts and their protectors had come back. Still, I thanked for the honour and importance and went back to prepare my warriors. My second in command, Arodlach, suggested to leave our armour behind, but I refused. "We will already be outnumbered, mellon." I said. "Besides, our task is to protect, not to scout. And for that, we will need our armour." I understood him. We all did... But we also understood that our armour may be the only thing that would stand between us and the massive amount of enemy swords and arrows..."
"That same night, we set out, a hundred and thirty warriors along with thirty scouts. We spoke not, we did not even whisper. For the night was dark, darker than a normal night without clouds to hide the stars should be. Our hands gripped our spears firmly, we held our long shields close to us. So we moved on, two scouts in front and on each side, and the rest in our centre, protected by my Elves. That night, and the following two days, we encountered nothing. Birds were singing their joyful songs, the wind blew gently through the woods and fields, the touch of the raindrops on our skin felt like sweet kisses... But not on the third day. We heard no birds nor any animals. We realised there was something going on. This was not natural."
Naegilrond puts his quill aside and closes the book slowly. He rubs his eyes and whispered to himself: "No, it was not natural at all..."
