All Mythical Things

Mamgobel

Languages:

'Valari words/ or Erika's mother tongue'

"Quenya/Sindarin"

"Westron/Common tongue"

"Others"

Disclaimer: LOTR and Silmarillion are properties of J.R.R. Tolkien and Tolkien Estates. None of the songs used in the story are mine too and only borrowed for entertainment purposes.

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Mamgobel

Noises can be heard all over the place as people of two races busied themselves with the tasks they were given by Glorfindel. The men had no second thoughts about following the orders not only because they saw how all elves look upon the golden haired warrior with reverence and respect but also because they saw his seemingly endless capabilities to handle different situations. He was the one who led the elves into the battle, his strength and skills took down most of their enemies, he thought of defense strategies and implemented it, assisted the foolish new mayor of the city to aid the people of Mamgobel and even helped with healing the injured using his unexpected ability to heal. The elven lord did that within just one whole day and night. They did not even see him rest or close his eyes for a sleep.

Seeing all his efforts, the fair, golden haired elven warrior easily captured the hearts of men, and like the elves, they took the elven lord as a being that was sent by the Valar.

Glorfindel himself gave a helpless sigh as he took the awed expression of the people while walking back to his tent. He never bothered to close the cover of its entrance as he would come out later eventually. The city's good old mayor stepped down from his position after the battle took its toll on his old body and became sick. Therefore, the seat of the city's leader now lies at the hands of his son-in-law, who is clearly not a capable leader as the first thing he did was to establish a banquet to celebrate his new position instead of taking care of the city's people. He and his men even had the audacity to demand for his presence.

Glorfindel though did not even bother to waste his time listening to the messenger that the new mayor sent on this very tent he is in. Bronwëg was certainly displeased as the foolish man clearly looked down upon his lord. Glorfindel gave it no mind and focused his attention at the destroyed north-eastern wall which is the only line of defense Mamgobel has. The city was not designed to be a battleground and this wall was built only to keep wild animals away from the people and their livestocks. It crumbled easily when the wags slammed their heavy bodies to create an opening. All the available builders, both elves and men, were trying their best to fortify it as much as possible using solid rocks and a mix of precious limestone, sand, clay and processed iron ores. It was only a temporary solution, the materials they needed would come by the morning when the aide from Círdan the Shipwright arrived at the city.

Since yesterday, there are five more people who succumbed to the injuries they had from the battle even as the elves had tried their best to even apply the songs of healing. Most of them are old vegetable farmers who tried to shield their family members and hid the children away from the orcs.

Glorfindel's anger simmered up to the brim of his heart but kept his emotions at bay and focused on the things he had to do. It won't be long till the sun rises and he can keep these precious times to rest and sleep. Though he is not particularly tired, he wanted to close his eyes and sleep for a while.

He was about to unbuckle his chest armor when he heard flapping of wings approaching and not long after, a familiar great grey owl entered his tent. The long span of its wings made a loud noise in the wind as if announcing its arrival. Flying closer to him, Glorfindel subconsciously lifted his arm so the owl could perch upon it. When it rested its talons in his vambrace, he noticed a letter pouch tied on its right leg. This particular letter pouch belongs to none other than the general of Círdan's army.