Dusk in Mirkwood, somewhere south of Ost Galadh
"Do not forget to let the Orcs know you are coming" said the elf with the large hammer.
"Be still, my beating heart!" answered the elf with the long bow cynically.
She glanced at him, her arms crossed. She was clad in green and brown, blending perfectly with the surroundings.
The elf with the hammer turned to the endless rows of lurking trees, and with a thundering voice he cried:
"á tulë, matë as inyë, Melkorohíni!" ["Come, dine with me, children of Melkor!"]
The archer rolled her eyes, but the thick air of the forest seemed to stop the call, and the trees stood there, motionless, as if choking every sound to some vibrant silence. The words, spoken in the Ancient Tongue of the West, came to naught.
The elf with the hammer muttered:
"The Orcs within this forest must be deaf."
"Maybe they just know better than to come this close to Ost Galadh."
"Fair point."
He glanced around.
"I shall try from over there."
He shouldered the large war-hammer, but after a few steps he heard the fizzling sound of a flying arrow, and the noise of Celeblhair's bowstring.
Turning around, he glanced at her.
"Oh... I am sorry" she said. "I did not yell first."
She walked towards a tree, and pulled the arrow out of a dead Orc's head. The shot had pierced helmet and skull alike, for Celeblhair was yielding a powerful war-bow of the Eldar, and she possessed the strength and the skill necessary to handle such a weapon.
But the elf with the hammer frowned.
"That was MY orc! Damn arrows. Your hand appears to be longer than mine."
Three hours before, in a camp upon Ost Galadh
"How did the squirrel hunt go?"
"SPIDERS, not squirrels!"
"Spiders?"
"Indeed, spiders. Big ones."
Ráolor laughed and put his hammer down.
"I used to hunt spiders...when I was a little child."
"Too bad one did not poison you" muttered Celeblhair.
"Such small beasts do not require our attention, I believe."
But suddenly, memories crept into his mind... Stories about the Ered Gorgoroth, and he remembered the words of Brasseniel, for she had told him about spiders as big as hounds, swarming numerous parts her homeland.
Celeblhair said, waggling her hand dismissively:
"Then, by all means, seek out foes appropriate for Noldor magnificence."
"That is what I have been doing so far! But listen."
He crossed his arms.
"A messenger arrived. An officer named Iavassul is leading a group of soldiers, he went south. Apparently, they noticed orc movements. They are calling for reinforcements."
Celeblhair glanced at him.
"I am honest with you... I need a good fight. Otherwise, one day I may become a squirrel myself, just like these Malledhrim."
"You poor thing. I guarantee it is not contagious."
"Instead of mocking me, you could join me, hunter of dangerous small insects! You could learn something about a proper Orc hunt!"
Ráolor took his hammer, with a grin.
"How could I ever pass up an offer like that" answered Celeblhair, standing up.
She sighed. "By all means - enlighten me."
"Fair enough." He turned around, facing the trees.
"The wild has called the Noldor... And we shall answer!"
"Where is your horn, or do you have a war drum?" she asked dryly.
"Sadly I do not."
"Just so EVERYONE knows you are coming?"
"They shall know soon" said Ráolor, and smiling, he shouldered his war-hammer.
Midnight. Iavassul's camp, south of Ost Galadh
"Darkness we faced
Within darkness we traveled
within darkness we hunted
darkness we challenged
and yet the day has not yet come
the hour of stars, and falling towers,
upon the Dagor Dagorath.
Within darkness we stand
awaiting the hour
awaiting the battle
of all battles."
written by a soldier named Mordagnir in the days before the Last Alliance
