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Earendil Halfelven · 04-19-2003, 05:19 PM

Hi guys!

Well, sadly, here it is. Arlómë and Einen's death scene.

_____________________________________________

"We know what we must do Bali. Go, lead the warriors to victory." He watched the rest of the company head up the hall. Goodbye, my friend, he thought. He knew that tonight, most likely, he would die.

Arlómë gripped his sword tightly. He no longer had his bow. He had lost it when the wall was blown. Besides, he had no more arrows, and by the look of things, he would not need the bow anymore anyways. He glanced at his companions-Belegond, Gromfelt, and Einen. He suddenly felt sad for Einen. The boy was young, and Arlómë had brought him to Erebor...to his death, probably. We walked over to Einen.
"Einen, I would not blame you if you joined Bali and the others. I have brought you here..."
"Arlómë," Einen said, cutting him off. "I do not regret joining you, of my own will. I would have no other honor than to fight beside you."
Arlómë nodded. There was nothing else he could say.

As the bangs on the door increased, Belegond said, "Fight well and do not give in, make them wish they had not lived to see us!"
"My friend Belegond, you do not have to worry. Soon, we shall join the Hall of our Fathers. Gromfelt, it is an honor to fight for Erebor. May your axe preserve you this night."

He looked at the other Elves there, the few Elves there. Their attention was on the door as it quickly gave in with a huge crash!

Uruks and goblins swarmed in. The Elven archers opened fire. The beasts in the front fell, pierced with many arrows, but the Uruks charged at such an awesome speed, that the archers had no time to reload. The sound of steel rang out along with yells and screams.

"FOR EREBOR! FOR ELENDIL!" yelled Arlómë. He wanted to make sure that rest of the company could hear the cry. Belegond, Gromfelt, Einen, and Arlómë charged forward.

_____________________________________________

Most of the Elves in the front were dead. Arlómë fought fiercely. He wanted to leave no Uruk alive. Many orcs lay dead, but more streamed in. It seemed as if there was a never-ending army of orcs.

As he pulled his sword out of a goblin's head, he heard a growl behind him. He swiftly turned. An orc faced him. Its sword swung toward his head, but Arlómë deflected it. As the orc's arm swung to the side as a result of Arlómë's blow, Arlómë charged in closely, plunging his sword into its stomach. The orc let out a deep groan, but it looked at Arlómë as it brought up its own sword. It was going to take Arlómë with it. Letting his sword stay in the belly of the orc, Arlómë reached up and with his right arm, grabbed the orc's sword hilt. With his left arm, he reached to his belt, pulled his knife, and slit the orc's throat.

As the orc fell to the ground, Arlómë pulled his sword out and looked up. There was a gap in the orc line. For a split second, it seemed as if they had stopped them. As if they had won. But then more orcs plunged in. These, Arlómë saw were archers.

He looked around for his 3 other companions. They were still with him, fighting with other Uruks. Einen looked at Arlómë. The young man was bleeding from a cut on his side, but he seemed to be ok. Then, Arlómë saw the ork archers take aim at his friends.
"Einen, get down!" Arlómë yelled.
Einen glanced back at the archers, then back at Arlómë. Their eyes met.
"Arlómë..." Einen began, but he was cut short. An arrow pierced him in the side of the head, then another into his chest. He fell to the ground...dead.

"NOOOOOO..." Arlómë charged forward. He saw Belegond meet an Uruks attack. The Ranger was wounded in the arm. Gromfelt, he did not see, but he hoped he still lived.

Arlómë cut down the front orc archers, but more filled in the gaps. He fought with a rage that he had never felt before. He fought on, no longer for Erebor, but for his friends who were there with him.

Suddenly, an arrow pierced him in the leg. Arlómë fell to the ground but he caught himself with his hands. He took his knives and threw them into the advancing orcs. He could hear the sound of Belegond fighting behind him. Somehow, orcs had gotten behind Arlómë without him noticing. And now with his wounded thigh, he could barely walk. He was surrounded.

He fought from his position on the ground, but it was useless. His wound sapped his strength from him, but still many orcs fell by his sword. He heard the zipping sound of an arrow soar throught the air, then plunge into his stomach. He dropped his sword...he no longer had the strength to wield it.

An orc approached, sword in hand. Arlómë watched it come. He could do nothing. He tried to pick up his weapon, but he could not. The orc stood above him, sword poised for the kill. This is it, Arlómë thought.
"ELENDIL..." Arlómë yelled. The orc cut him short, its sword in his chest.

_____________________________________________

He lay there. His life was fading. He could no longer hear Belegond fight. He could hear nothing. Orcs rushed past him to take on the others at the top of the hall. He could not even move. He couldn't even lift his head to see his wounded chest. Darkness gathered before his eyes. He was finally dying.

Suddenly, out of the darkness he heard his father's voice.
"Arlómë...Arlómë...Come, take your rest with your Fathers in the Halls of the Dunedain."
And with his last breath, Arlómë passed.

*sniff* *sniff*
[img]smilies/frown.gif[/img] well, is this ok?

04-19-2003, 05:19 PM	#313
Earendil Halfelven Wight Join Date: Dec 2002 Location: the dark recesses of the mind Posts: 223	Hi guys! Well, sadly, here it is. Arlómë and Einen's death scene. _____________________________________________ "We know what we must do Bali. Go, lead the warriors to victory." He watched the rest of the company head up the hall. Goodbye, my friend, he thought. He knew that tonight, most likely, he would die. Arlómë gripped his sword tightly. He no longer had his bow. He had lost it when the wall was blown. Besides, he had no more arrows, and by the look of things, he would not need the bow anymore anyways. He glanced at his companions-Belegond, Gromfelt, and Einen. He suddenly felt sad for Einen. The boy was young, and Arlómë had brought him to Erebor...to his death, probably. We walked over to Einen. "Einen, I would not blame you if you joined Bali and the others. I have brought you here..." "Arlómë," Einen said, cutting him off. "I do not regret joining you, of my own will. I would have no other honor than to fight beside you." Arlómë nodded. There was nothing else he could say. As the bangs on the door increased, Belegond said, "Fight well and do not give in, make them wish they had not lived to see us!" "My friend Belegond, you do not have to worry. Soon, we shall join the Hall of our Fathers. Gromfelt, it is an honor to fight for Erebor. May your axe preserve you this night." He looked at the other Elves there, the few Elves there. Their attention was on the door as it quickly gave in with a huge crash! Uruks and goblins swarmed in. The Elven archers opened fire. The beasts in the front fell, pierced with many arrows, but the Uruks charged at such an awesome speed, that the archers had no time to reload. The sound of steel rang out along with yells and screams. "FOR EREBOR! FOR ELENDIL!" yelled Arlómë. He wanted to make sure that rest of the company could hear the cry. Belegond, Gromfelt, Einen, and Arlómë charged forward. _____________________________________________ Most of the Elves in the front were dead. Arlómë fought fiercely. He wanted to leave no Uruk alive. Many orcs lay dead, but more streamed in. It seemed as if there was a never-ending army of orcs. As he pulled his sword out of a goblin's head, he heard a growl behind him. He swiftly turned. An orc faced him. Its sword swung toward his head, but Arlómë deflected it. As the orc's arm swung to the side as a result of Arlómë's blow, Arlómë charged in closely, plunging his sword into its stomach. The orc let out a deep groan, but it looked at Arlómë as it brought up its own sword. It was going to take Arlómë with it. Letting his sword stay in the belly of the orc, Arlómë reached up and with his right arm, grabbed the orc's sword hilt. With his left arm, he reached to his belt, pulled his knife, and slit the orc's throat. As the orc fell to the ground, Arlómë pulled his sword out and looked up. There was a gap in the orc line. For a split second, it seemed as if they had stopped them. As if they had won. But then more orcs plunged in. These, Arlómë saw were archers. He looked around for his 3 other companions. They were still with him, fighting with other Uruks. Einen looked at Arlómë. The young man was bleeding from a cut on his side, but he seemed to be ok. Then, Arlómë saw the ork archers take aim at his friends. "Einen, get down!" Arlómë yelled. Einen glanced back at the archers, then back at Arlómë. Their eyes met. "Arlómë..." Einen began, but he was cut short. An arrow pierced him in the side of the head, then another into his chest. He fell to the ground...dead. "NOOOOOO..." Arlómë charged forward. He saw Belegond meet an Uruks attack. The Ranger was wounded in the arm. Gromfelt, he did not see, but he hoped he still lived. Arlómë cut down the front orc archers, but more filled in the gaps. He fought with a rage that he had never felt before. He fought on, no longer for Erebor, but for his friends who were there with him. Suddenly, an arrow pierced him in the leg. Arlómë fell to the ground but he caught himself with his hands. He took his knives and threw them into the advancing orcs. He could hear the sound of Belegond fighting behind him. Somehow, orcs had gotten behind Arlómë without him noticing. And now with his wounded thigh, he could barely walk. He was surrounded. He fought from his position on the ground, but it was useless. His wound sapped his strength from him, but still many orcs fell by his sword. He heard the zipping sound of an arrow soar throught the air, then plunge into his stomach. He dropped his sword...he no longer had the strength to wield it. An orc approached, sword in hand. Arlómë watched it come. He could do nothing. He tried to pick up his weapon, but he could not. The orc stood above him, sword poised for the kill. This is it, Arlómë thought. "ELENDIL..." Arlómë yelled. The orc cut him short, its sword in his chest. _____________________________________________ He lay there. His life was fading. He could no longer hear Belegond fight. He could hear nothing. Orcs rushed past him to take on the others at the top of the hall. He could not even move. He couldn't even lift his head to see his wounded chest. Darkness gathered before his eyes. He was finally dying. Suddenly, out of the darkness he heard his father's voice. "Arlómë...Arlómë...Come, take your rest with your Fathers in the Halls of the Dunedain." And with his last breath, Arlómë passed. sniff sniff [img]smilies/frown.gif[/img] well, is this ok? __________________ In nomini domine saboath sui filique ite ad infernos.