Glaurung

Disaster.

It was a disaster from the start. The scouts tasked with reconnaissance along the northern borders reported the enemy’s army to be of “manageable” size, whatever the hells that meant when there was a dragon among them. The horde they were facing however was way, way larger than expected, yet despite this the host of Nargothrond went forth with King Artaresto leading alongside Túrin. Needless to say none could withstand the assault of the dragon Glaurung and the elves were driven back into the field of Tumahalad.

Carniquessë suppressed a yawn, perched atop the rocky outcrop making up of one of the hidden watchposts scattered all around the plains of Tumhalad. It seemed a morning like many others: sun high in the sky, white clouds rolling lazily in the blue sky and a gentle breeze swaying the blades of grass below.

[Lothlann. Year of the sun 455, First Age. Beginning of the Dagor Bragollach, Battle of Sudden Flame. Twelve hours after the unleashing of Angband's fires by Morgoth]