As time went by, the tension grew. The fear of attack grew by the minuet. Taurthol peered about the surroundings; there was something not right. He sensed some foreboding clouded his thought. Suddenly something moved behind them. Turning swiftly around he saw it! A huge spider. Greater than all the others. It was black, with red eyes that seemed to be forced out before its face with the fire of its own malice. Setting forth a tremendous screech the spider reared up onto its legs and stamped upon the ground.
All the elves drew their swords, bows and all. Before they knew what was happening, hundreds of minor spiders scrambled down from the trees. There were some large brown spiders with legs like claws, smaller dark blue spiders with thin slick legs. All of them had eyes of fire and seemed to be heading for the elves with no intent on stopping.
Taurthol drew a long steel blade and stood by the king and his esquires. One large spider crawled up to them, making squelching noises and drooling with intent. With one swift swipe, the body of the spider fell from its head and it writhed around in pain.
"That one's for Tálmor!" he cried, "Forget not these words, foul children of Ungoliant, this day, ye all shall perish!" and with that the elves plunged into a horrific battle.
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