Siege of Angband

The sound of horse hooves pounding against the earth resounded. At exhilerating speeds, the small group of riders thundered across the hilly, boulder ridden landscape. Each rock could hide a new threat, another machination of the Dark Lord Morgoth. These riders knew this, for they scouted this area every day. The darkness of the Thrangorodrim's fumes touched this land; though it was broken and thin compared to the foot of the Iron Mountains.

A gust of wind.
Whispers in the grass.
The breath of Ard-Galen.
Whispers in the grass.
If the meadows stop breathing,
Valariandë will fall, they say.
A gust of wind.
Whispers in the grass.
I can hear it…
The breath of Ard-Galen.

Goblets are raised!

"A laita tárienna!"

Mighty are their voices -

Thargelion, year 336 of the First Age of the Sun