Alas, For Captains No Hope.

Chapter 4

Alas, For Captains No Hope

Chapter 4

Warning: Death, battle and tradegy.

T.A. 2941 – The attack

Cottages near the path of the patrols heading to Dol Guldur were boarded up with wooden planks, no longer liveable. The woods were silent and dark. Animals had hidden themselves away from the sight, scared to death. Through the day and night warriors marched through the woods, not making a sound. Their faces were expressionless, their hearts petrified. With each step, their homes and beloved ones were getting smaller. It was the only option they had. They had to attack Dol Guldur. For the innocent. For the ones they dearly loved and who were terrified. They literally had no choice. And that all because of one person, if you could call him that. The Necromancer – Sauron.

Their destination was dark, cold and lifeless. Everywhere you looked it was black. Black of orcs, Uruk-haiand horses. In the dark were wargs, trolls and Easterlings placed. In the caves of Dol Guldur prisoners were being held and even more forces waited on the wood-elves. Whatever the outcome might be, it would be one bloody battle.

In the stronghold, ellyth and elflings were inside the cottages. Outside on the market square all left over warriors met up – both male and female. They were the ones unable to fight because of violent injuries, healing wounds or pregnancies. There was also one group of warriors who were too troubled by the shadow to operate normal. They would either die of grief before the attack ended or sail if they could manage a way to the Havens. To say it simple, the stronghold was filled with broken elves. All waiting with heavy weighing hearts for the outcome and prayed for the best.

'Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au.' (My heart shall weep until it sees thee again)

It was time. Mirkwood's forces stood lined up behind the last trees, in front of the border of the haunted fortress. Last prayers were said, the last weapons distributed. On the other side of the border stood an enormous army of the Shadow. Behind the wood-elves crawled the ever watching spiders, stings ready. They were trapped. All they could do was fight, and fight they would. The archers strung their bows, the swordelves held their swords firmly and the spearelves held their spears high above their heads. The unspoken signal was given. At once the three groups charged their attack – hoping for victory.

“Gurth gothrimlye!” (Death to our foes!) The troop commander yelled.

“Cuamin linduva yassen megrille!” (My bow shall sing with your sword!) The lieutenant of the archers screamed to the Easterlings and orcs.

“I'narr en gothrim glinuva nuin I'anor!” (The bones of our foes will gleam under the sun!) The elves in charge of the swords cried before sprinting towards their enemies.

The elves in charge of the spears merely yelled in agreement to the battle cries.

Soon enough several bodies were already pilled up on the battlefield. Blood was spilled everywhere – on clothes, weapons, heads, bodies, buildings and on the ground. For every enemy the elves killed, five would take it's place. Wargs bit fiercely in the bodies of the elves, tearing them to the last piece apart. Horses kicked with force the elves from their path and led their riders to safety. Easterlings strung their bows and slashed through the bodies of the immortal. The trolls made the ground beneath them shudder and trampled their obstacles – whether they were friend or foe. Elf for elf went in their gigantic mouths, never to be seen again. Within moments, the first line of the wood-elves was gone.

Archers ran out of their arrows and changed their weapons. They joined the rest of the warriors on the ground, now accessible for the enemies on the ground without arrows or spears. Weapons lay spread around the battlefield. Some had been discarded by the enemy and others had been the property of fallen warriors. Chaos was seen in every corner of Dol Guldur, except for in the well secured dungeons and towers. The elves fought their way over to them – but had no success for a long time. Not one of them knew that neither friend or ally was alive.