Thendryt wiped the blood off his face. He stood and gazed for a moment, in the middle of the battlefield. They were outnumbered, but not outmatched. Not at all.
Khalis was in the middle of close combat a distance away from him. So was Lilleduil, an equal distance in the other direction.
He looked down on his glove, blood pouring out of it as he tightened his fist. This meant nothing to him. He felt hollow, unmotivated. These might be the enemies or The Mark, and in this instance the Vale of Imladris, but they were not his enemies. He’d defend himself, and he’d see to that he fulfilled his part in this mission, but he longed to go north. He knew his real enemies. His real prey.
He looked up. The pits weren’t an overly large arena, but it had structures made of poor quality wood and metal. The crowd were roaring wildly, there had to be hundreds of them up on the stands. He hoped the plan would work. If not, they would have a hard time getting out of this arena.
“Morson!” He heard Khalis shout from behind him. He brought his eyes down from the stands and noticed that more Dunlendings had been sent in. The Elves had set up position between two structures behind him, Khalis and Caleniel in front with their shields up high. The newly arrived Dunlendings began to charge as Thendryt slowly walked towards his comrades. He could hear the Men get closer and louder, but paid them no attention. He watched Khalis as he walked, and he could see the annoyed expression the Elf had under his helmet. Almost made him smile.
The Dunlendings almost caught up with him, but he timed his pacing perfectly. Right before they were upon him, Khalis and Caleniel’s shields swung around him and closed behind with a metallic thud. Thendryt looked Elisbeth for a moment before sheathing his sword. He grabbed his spear with both hands and spun around, putting the full force of his large mass into his thrust. The spear easily entered the closest Dunlending’s throat. Khalis and Caleniel were already putting their swords to use on the Dunlendings trying to push their shield-wall back, and a pile of dead quickly built up in front of them. One Dunlending ran towards the wall and, with some help, managed to jump, or more thrown, over the wall. Thendryt readied himself but he quickly felt his hairs rise in the back of his neck. He took a step to his right and the Dunlending went past him. Elisbeth caught him by the throat. Thendryt felt all of the hairs on his body stand and he felt a heavy chill down his spine as the energy shot out from the two. Elisbeth released the Man and he fell to the ground, small lines of smoke oozing from his corpse.
Khalis and Caleniel’s shield-wall was still intact, as they started to advance outwards towards the lone surviving Dunlanding.
“Let him through.” Thendryt said to the two Elves as the Dunlending charged with all of his might. Caleniel looked back to him, then to Khalis. Khalis met her gaze and nodded.
Right before the Dunlending made contact with the shields they both quickly, with perfect timing, took a step in opposite directions. Caleniel tripped the Dunlending as he flew past them and he landed badly right in front of Thendryt. Thendryt turned his spear 180 degrees in a rotating motion and brought the spear-point down in the center of the neck. With the last group of enemies slain, the group relaxed, slightly. They walked slowly into the middle of the arena as the noise from the stands became deafening.
The large doors opened and they heard a roar. A huge drake came rushing through the open gates, half panicked, half pissed off. It looked around, seemingly for a way to escape. When it didn’t find one, it turned its attention of the Warband.
“Morson, switch!” Khalis yelled, sheathed his sword and dropped his shield. Great, Thendryt thought as he threw his spear to him and, as Khalis walked towards the wooden structure they had just used as a bottleneck, picked up the Elf’s shield. Caleniel started beating on her shield with her sword, Thendryt drew one of his and mimicked her. The drake roared and charged them. Thendryt watched as it went straight for Caleniel. He roared. Roared loud, and long. The drake slowed, and turned his attention to him. Realizing the jaws of the drake would be able to cut him in two, Thendryt’s mind went blank.
He could simply watch as the drake’s jaws opened and spewed fire towards him. He wouldn’t be able to dodge, so he just stood there, accepting it. As the light embraced him he saw a staff shoot out beside him. Realizing that Lilleduil was shielding them in the heart of the flames, he quickly embraced her and put the shield towards the searing heat. There they stood, as if time stood still. Lilleduil screamed as she tried to force her staff towards the force and Thendryt also screamed, the wound of his left arm giving him more pain than he’d felt for months as he held the shield up and tried to keep the flames away from them.
“Khalis, NOW!” He barely heard Elisbeth’s panicked command. He could only focus on the shield and the pain in his left arm as sweat covered his face. Suddenly the breath of the drake seized, making them both lose balance and collapse. Khalis stood on the top of the drake’s head, Thendryt’s spear forced deep into the back of its head. The drake let out an agonizing scream. Khalis twisted the spear and the entire arena went quiet.
Thendryt and Lilleduil rose. Thendryt looked into her eyes, and she nodded as to tell him she was okay. She gestured the same unspoken question back at him but he turned away. Khalis walked over, Thendryt met him halfway. The shield was still smoking when he handed it back to its owner. As the weight lifted from his left arm, the pain eased. He met Khalis’ eyes, ignoring the slight look of worry in his bright pupils.
Suddenly the crowd started roaring. They looked up and spotted a white figure in the main stand. A sudden worry and dread seemed to momentarily grasp them. The door opened once again and several large Uruk Hai emerged. The Elves snapped out of their previous state and removed their gaze from the white figure, down to the foes in front of them. Thendryt drew his second sword, forced eye-contact with one of the Uruk Hai and walked towards it. His body ached, he could barely move his left arm and the warm steam was still oozing from him. But this fight was different. Dunlendings were one thing, White Hand Orcs a completely different.
The Elves were walking close behind him and together, they charged.
Corpses littered the field. Thendryt started dragging them to the center and, after a few of them were piled up, got help from the Elves. Once there was a large pile of them in the middle, Thendryt went over to the drake and dragged out his spear.
The Elves were standing around the pile, looking out towards the large crowd. The chants hadn’t stopped, and the viewers were on their feet.
Thendryt took out a large piece of cloth from under his armor and tied it to the back of his spear. He nodded to Khalis, and the Elf removed his helmet. Revealing his face, and ears. The rest of the Elves followed and removed the masks, hoods and helmets that were hiding their Elven looks. As they revealed themselves the crowd went from static to total silence.
Thendryt let the cloth loose and stood atop the mountain of corpses. The banner of Imladris that was tied to his spear moved softly in the wind. He roared as he planted the spear on the top. He made his way down, and together the group walked slowly towards the doors. A few Dunlendings drew their weapons, but Thendryt simply glared at them and walked past.
They left the banner there. Half burned, half torn. Yet, atop its slain foes on a field of victory.
