𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝕾𝖆𝖚𝖗𝖔𝖓

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶-𝔉𝔬𝔲𝔯

The battle will soon come. The rain pours down. Even the sky cries from the bloodshed. Only more will be spilled today. The troops are ready. I'm ready. Still... my mind wanders to what Gimli said. Have I been acting so weird lately?

"Couldn't find a better spot." Gimli mutters.

"Aragorn, do you feel that?" I ask. 

He nods. Lightning strikes and I see the army of Isengard. I was wrong. It's not ten thousand. It's more like a hundred thousand. I grip my bow. My eyes are wide. This will be a nightmare. I feel that there will be more than just a few losses. They come with fire. They come with flags. They come bearing the white hand of Saruman.

"What's happening out there?" Gimli asks.

"Shall I describe it to you?" I ask.

Gimli looks up at me. I look down at him.

"Or do you need a box?" I ask.

"Húrin cín bows! Show baw mercui because cin will receive none!" Aragorn yells. 

(Ready your bows!" Show them no mercy because you will receive none!)

"Ennas armor na- weaker im i iaeth a no i arms." I say.

(There armor is weak under the neck and the arms.)

Trust yourself. 

"Good luck, laddie." Gimli tells me. 

I nod.