Elmar turned to see where the thud came from when he heard the word ‘Yrch’ that he knew it was time. He unsheathed his blade; it was glowing blue as the elven blades always do when they are near enemies. He barely had time to take a stance when the wave of orcs hit those first in lines. He yelled as he drove the sword in one of the orc’s body and slit the neck of the second one with his knife as it came within his reach.

The smell of orc stench and blood slowly made its way to his nose, the crying of mortally wounded elves making him think of his demise. He and Lindir were fighting side by side and had taken a stand to protect Borlas, their friend who had a nasty gash on his leg and was bleeding out. The orcs were slowly closing in, baring their yellow teeth as they smelled victory.

“Lindir we need to retreat!” cried Elmar

“There are too many of them, we will not make it to the dock before we are slaughtered” replied Lindir, pointing the obvious.

“Yes, I know, my point was that we need to do something! Maybe climb the trees”

“Not everyone can make it to the top, wounded will be killed plus the trees we are on will be surrounded and we will be taken down by those little orc bows! Being elves doesn’t make us invisible you know.” countered Lindir as he made his way to help another elf surrounded by 3 orcs.

Elmar continued to make his stand, hacking and slashing, turning and slicing the orcs that kept pouring at him, when he heard a shout. He spun on his heels to see Lindir bent down blood pouring from his arm as he managed to get the upper hand and killed the assailant. Lindir looked up and smiled at Elmar, his eyes sparkling.

Suddenly they widened and his morphed into that of shock, Lindir looked down to see a curved and rusted sword covered in blood protruding from his abdomen. Elmar watched on hopelessly, everything passing him by slowly as he saw Lindir collapse, and the orc that killed him sneered victoriously.

Elmar couldn’t take the loss, he couldn’t feel anything, he could only see vengeance clouding his senses as he charged the orc who murdered his friend, letting out a scream. The orcs that surrounded him were soon a pile on the ground but there were more. Elmar saw that hope was lost and the only way to survive was to retreat into the woods.

He picked up Borlas and disappeared into the darkness, the screams of elves being butchered bearing heavy on his heart, but he had to make a choice, to die with all others or save a friend.

He was tired. He was hungry and thirsty. He was burdened by the choice that he had made, the regret slowly making its way into his mind. He hid behind a large oak as he heard stomping. He heard voices, voices of orcs! There was a legion of them that was 70 strong at least. Combined with those that were left behind that attacked them they were enough to take the city by surprise.

Elmar had a choice to make, either he makes a run for Lord Cirdan and warns him which looked futile as he was tired and in no position to overtake the orcs, or he makes for Rivendell as soon as possible to get help and support to his people. He also knew that he wouldn’t leave Borlas’ unconscious body behind either, after taking a very long breath he made his choice, guilt and anger pooling up inside him as he settled by the oak to get some rest.

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NOTE: This a fanfiction based on Middle Earth created by J.R.R Tolkien who is also the author of The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit from where this story takes inspiration from.