Creative Writing dribble
Weapon chosen: Roundel
Sulrin approached the weapons table. His fingers played lightly over a bow but for once he did not take it up. He moved on to the daggers instead. He scanned them, then reached for a long narrow sheath. He pulled the weapon, admiring the long slender blade. Razor sharp and needle like at the point. Able to penitrate even finely knit chainmail. His mind wandered back to when such a weapon was wielded in the defense of the Wood during the War of the Ring.
The Lady, knowing the dark one's mind, knew that he had amassed a large force at Dol Guldur. Large enough to effectively challenge not only Lothlorien but Thranduil's realm as well. They knew that the first encounter must be decisive. They could have tried to rely on their archers and spearmen but they would still be out numbered. Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel took council. The plan they devised was as ingenious as it was devious. Soon herbalists were collecting flowers, nuts and bark for dying. The weaver's looms were buzzing. The seamtresses measured, cut and sewed. And the Galadhrim danced.
On a red dawn, Ivanhoe entered Caras Galahon with an urgent message from the Eastern fences. The enemy had issued forth from the dark tower of Mirkwood and were crossing the Anduin. A single bell tolled throughout the city. Silently the Galadhrim prepared themselves and then proceeded to the border. Archers took up positions in the trees while those Galadhrim carrying harps, lutes and pipes checked their instruments. Those in the van guard took their places just within the tree line. The enemy did not attack that day. As soon as the dark host made the crossing they set up an incampment for the night.
The next day dawned grey and the enemy broke camp to form ranks. Within the Wood, Elves took up their instruments. The van guard took up a corresponding stance mirroring the enemy host. From that dark line came the blaring of war horns. Harsh orders were barked and the clashing clank of heavy armor drifted on the wind. The Wood gave back silence.
When the enemy lines had marched well within bow shot, the harpers struck up sweet cords as the pipes, harps and lutes started to play a melodious but lively tune. Out of the treesline the Galadhrim danced. Their flowing robes and gowns brightly colored, shot through with glittering threads. Their voices rose in sweet, clear song as they boldly advanced on the Easterlings before them. Sulrin smiled grimly as the invading army stopped their advance. He could see the looks of amazement and confusion stamped clearly on their faces. As prearranged, many of the "dancers" made as if to engage the Easterling archers and lance bearers.
Dancing gracefully up to one of the soldiers, Sulrin looked him in the eyes. The step of the dance changed so that the Elf was moving slowly around the mortal. The Easterling turned slowly as well keeping the eye contact as Celeborn and Galadriel hoped might happen. Sulrin made a delft, graceful movement with his hand and the mortal's eyes widened then went blank. The Elf moved on. All along the front the enemy died as the Galadhrim swirled gracefully but deadly through them.
But the enchantment could not last forever. As more sharpwitted generals began to suspect that something was terribly wrong, authoritative voices screamed out commands. Sulrin heard the ring of metal on metal as swords were drawn against them. From the Wood, a clear note was heard. The retreat had been called. As the advance front of the Galadhrim broke off the attack the Easterlings surged forwards. Sulrin found himself face to face, not with a mortal stunned by the specticle of bright, graceful dancers, haunting music and song, but a soldier enraged that he had been so taken by surprise.
Sulrin tried to feint and lunge in for a killing stroke. In a counter move his opponent brought his sword up tucked close to his forearm forcing the Elf to jump back. He was able to avoid the slicing blade but the pummel clipped his wrist painfully numbing his hand. He gasped as the dagger flew from his non responsive fingers. It was the Easterling's turn to smile. Sulrin watched the mortal's eyes light in anticipation of taking his revenge on the unarmed Galadhrim. The sword came back as the mortal made another vicious attempt to slice the Elf deep. Sulrin was able to dance back to avoid the swing. The man tried to check it but the Elf moved swiftly into the Easterlings past his swing. He grabbed the soldier's sword wrist and drove the heel of his open palm into the sneering face. He heard a satisfying crunch as bone, cartalege and flesh gave way. The mortal's head snapped back. The Elf didn't hesitate but moved backwards as the horn of Lorien sounded once again. The note followed closely by a flight of white fletched arrows.
Sulrin turned and fled with the rest of the van guard . They gained the safety of the Wood as another volley of feathered death sang over their heads. There they turned to watch the reaction of the Easterlings to the onslaught. Horns blared and the dark host began to make a full retreat. They did not stop but fled back across the Anduin. Some few of the "dancers" had recieved wounds. But there had been no fatalities. The tactic had worked. The Galadhrim might not be able to attempt such again but it hardly mattered. It had saved many Elven lives and it wasn't something the enemy would forget any time soon. The Galadhrim melted into the shadows of the Wood to await to fight another day
Sulrin approached the weapons table. His fingers played lightly over a bow but for once he did not take it up. He moved on to the daggers instead. He scanned them, then reached for a long narrow sheath. He pulled the weapon, admiring the long slender blade. Razor sharp and needle like at the point. Able to penitrate even finely knit chainmail. His mind wandered back to when such a weapon was wielded in the defense of the Wood during the War of the Ring.
The Lady, knowing the dark one's mind, knew that he had amassed a large force at Dol Guldur. Large enough to effectively challenge not only Lothlorien but Thranduil's realm as well. They knew that the first encounter must be decisive. They could have tried to rely on their archers and spearmen but they would still be out numbered. Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel took council. The plan they devised was as ingenious as it was devious. Soon herbalists were collecting flowers, nuts and bark for dying. The weaver's looms were buzzing. The seamtresses measured, cut and sewed. And the Galadhrim danced.
On a red dawn, Ivanhoe entered Caras Galahon with an urgent message from the Eastern fences. The enemy had issued forth from the dark tower of Mirkwood and were crossing the Anduin. A single bell tolled throughout the city. Silently the Galadhrim prepared themselves and then proceeded to the border. Archers took up positions in the trees while those Galadhrim carrying harps, lutes and pipes checked their instruments. Those in the van guard took their places just within the tree line. The enemy did not attack that day. As soon as the dark host made the crossing they set up an incampment for the night.
The next day dawned grey and the enemy broke camp to form ranks. Within the Wood, Elves took up their instruments. The van guard took up a corresponding stance mirroring the enemy host. From that dark line came the blaring of war horns. Harsh orders were barked and the clashing clank of heavy armor drifted on the wind. The Wood gave back silence.
When the enemy lines had marched well within bow shot, the harpers struck up sweet cords as the pipes, harps and lutes started to play a melodious but lively tune. Out of the treesline the Galadhrim danced. Their flowing robes and gowns brightly colored, shot through with glittering threads. Their voices rose in sweet, clear song as they boldly advanced on the Easterlings before them. Sulrin smiled grimly as the invading army stopped their advance. He could see the looks of amazement and confusion stamped clearly on their faces. As prearranged, many of the "dancers" made as if to engage the Easterling archers and lance bearers.
Dancing gracefully up to one of the soldiers, Sulrin looked him in the eyes. The step of the dance changed so that the Elf was moving slowly around the mortal. The Easterling turned slowly as well keeping the eye contact as Celeborn and Galadriel hoped might happen. Sulrin made a delft, graceful movement with his hand and the mortal's eyes widened then went blank. The Elf moved on. All along the front the enemy died as the Galadhrim swirled gracefully but deadly through them.
But the enchantment could not last forever. As more sharpwitted generals began to suspect that something was terribly wrong, authoritative voices screamed out commands. Sulrin heard the ring of metal on metal as swords were drawn against them. From the Wood, a clear note was heard. The retreat had been called. As the advance front of the Galadhrim broke off the attack the Easterlings surged forwards. Sulrin found himself face to face, not with a mortal stunned by the specticle of bright, graceful dancers, haunting music and song, but a soldier enraged that he had been so taken by surprise.
Sulrin tried to feint and lunge in for a killing stroke. In a counter move his opponent brought his sword up tucked close to his forearm forcing the Elf to jump back. He was able to avoid the slicing blade but the pummel clipped his wrist painfully numbing his hand. He gasped as the dagger flew from his non responsive fingers. It was the Easterling's turn to smile. Sulrin watched the mortal's eyes light in anticipation of taking his revenge on the unarmed Galadhrim. The sword came back as the mortal made another vicious attempt to slice the Elf deep. Sulrin was able to dance back to avoid the swing. The man tried to check it but the Elf moved swiftly into the Easterlings past his swing. He grabbed the soldier's sword wrist and drove the heel of his open palm into the sneering face. He heard a satisfying crunch as bone, cartalege and flesh gave way. The mortal's head snapped back. The Elf didn't hesitate but moved backwards as the horn of Lorien sounded once again. The note followed closely by a flight of white fletched arrows.
Sulrin turned and fled with the rest of the van guard . They gained the safety of the Wood as another volley of feathered death sang over their heads. There they turned to watch the reaction of the Easterlings to the onslaught. Horns blared and the dark host began to make a full retreat. They did not stop but fled back across the Anduin. Some few of the "dancers" had recieved wounds. But there had been no fatalities. The tactic had worked. The Galadhrim might not be able to attempt such again but it hardly mattered. It had saved many Elven lives and it wasn't something the enemy would forget any time soon. The Galadhrim melted into the shadows of the Wood to await to fight another day