Despite the revelry of the night before, the spirits of the elves and men had dropped well below Elrohir's tolerance level. All were talking in hushed voices of certain doom.
"This simply will not do," said Elrohir loudly, causeing everyone to look aroound at the disturbance. he stepped to the front of the group.
"Listen to me, my comrades. This talk cannot go on. It will bring us down to cowardace and shame, two things that do not belong in a battle party," the elvesa and rangers looked around at each other, surprised at Elrohir's speech.
He continued, "My lords, If it is woven into our fates to perish this day, then so it shall be. No words or actions will prevent it. But shall we march into battle singing the praises of doom? Or will we fight to the tune of life, and love of those we would protect and serve?"
Those gathered were now utterly silent, listening to the elf's words.
"If it one thing I cannot abide, it is sadness without a cause," said Elrohir quietly. Then, louder, "If at the end of this mission, our friends lie dead, we may feel anguish and pain. But not until! No, my comrades. Do not let the fear of death hinder your courage. Without that, we are certainly doomed."
Elrohir finshed, eyes aflame, and waited to hear what they would say.
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