Asmalinde

Asmalinde looked down upon the dark canyon. Her elf eyes were unable to penetrate the veil of darkness below her. It had been a difficult trek making it this far. Asmalinde’s arms and legs ached from the exertion of climbing. She had found a large crack in the granite surface of the mountain. The elleth had used handholds, finger grooves and natural depressions in the unyielding surface to make her way up. Twice she almost fell, scraping her skin and knees with contusions.

     The skies flashed orange as flames leapt across the battlements. Heaving clouds full of water seemed to hang low in a pregnant pause. The screams of the dying and fighting echoed through the elven hewn stones, imprinting its horrors on the once gleaming city of Turgon’s people. Morgoth had found them and employed all his arsenal in an effort to remove this forever blight on his rule of Middle Earth.