[Esgallhugwen]

A heavy omen was in Esgallhugwen's mind, she had set down the pup and was plucking the string of her bow. She had decided on a name for him, Nimrómen white-sunrise, it seemed to suite him somehow, with his yellow eyes and white fur.

Then they came, and all became chaos. Esgallhugwen quickly shot up hiding the pup in her saddle bag behind a boulder, she came charging back swinging out her sword and sticking it in the fire. The men laughed thinking the Elf women had no brains in her pretty little head.

With a flick of her wrist she pulled forth an arrow from the quiver strapped to her back, with amazing skill she set one alight it sang through the air hitting it's destined target. Lira had fallen as Esgallhugwen yelled out sending four more arrows into the chests and necks of their enemies.

But they only seemed to multiply, harsh flashes stabbed through her mind rembering her home and the fires and the ceasless onslaught of treachery and orcs. She did not want all her arrows spent, taking up her sword from the fire, it glowed red hot ever stronger. Esgallhugwen stood before the men that came at her, Nàrkir glowing like a spike of fire in her hands, her eyes cold and harsh like ice.

A tremor of adrenaline swam through her whole body, slashing the face of one that dared to come to close, the hot blade seared through his flesh a shrill cry of pain went up in the night as he grabbed at the scorched wound. Esgallhugwen skewered another while an arrow went whistling by her ear. Parrying a blow that came from behind she raced over to the Hobbits and the fallen body of Lira to protect them.

Esgallhugwen tried to assure the hobbits that we all should stick together and to fire as many arrows as they could at the chest and neck if they could see in the dark.