Thalion Menelvagor leaned against the battlements of New Reindi castle looking out over the dim greyness that preceded the rising of the sun. On the day previous his men fought and died upon the same battlements he now stood on and now before with their blood still fresh upon the grass a new enemy had appeared. Without warning or declaration of war a horde of orcs had swarmed across the fields surrounding the castle driving all nearby troops within the gates setting the castle to siege. Now, the survivors of Thalion’s armies garrisoned the castle along with Lord Anders’ men that they had just fought against.
Despite muddled thinking from having his helm dented in by a greatmaul during the battle Thalion had spent most of the night awake writing letters and giving them to messengers and discussing the defence of the castle with Lord Anders and Lord Finnian. Regardless of the recent bloodshed, Lord Anders banners had joined the banners of WFA and they would stand together to defend their shared home.
Thalion took another puff from the lit pipe he held in one hand and sent a smoke ring floating out over the battlements. The aromatic qualities of the tobacco helped compensate for the dizziness brought up by the concussion. In the old lands of Beleriand, Thalion was used to fighting Goblins, Orcs, and many fell beasts. He had not known, however, that such creatures existed here in Calradia, it seemed that the evil of Morgoth had spread beyond the great sea and had grown strong here as well. For a moment he remembered vividly many battles great and terrible that had preceded the breaking of Beleriand and ultimately the downfall of the Shadow in the land.
visitors can't see pics , please
register or
login He recalled how hordes of orcs broke upon the shield wall of the Noldor and of the Edain, and how hordes more fell to the chopping of dwarven axes. Now, he and all his people were but a remnant of what was, a small fragment of the glory that was the first age. Yet valor there was still even in these exiles from Beleriand. Though they fought upon a strange land they would not now waver before any Gobblin horde.
Despite the grim circumstances Thalion smiled slightly to himself as the thought in silence… Well then, old foe. You may have a different name and different faces but one Goblin is liken to another. We will meet you on the battlements of New Reindi, and if the Heavens allow on the field. We will fight you so long as we still draw breath. Not one of us will die with a weapon still sheathed…
“Milord, the banner is ready to be raised.” came the voice of one of Thalon’s men behind him. Turning around to face the soldier Thalion gave a nod. “You have the banner of Lord Anders?” said Thalion in reply. “Yes Milord, here it is,” said the soldier handing it to Thalion who then turned to face Anders who was standing a few paces of. “Lord Anders, I return your banner to you. Proudly your soldiers fought under it, may they do so again in the days to come, this time against our mutual enemies rather than each other. I salute you, comrade in arms,” said Thalion walking over to Anders and returning the banner to him. Turning around Thalion gave the order for the banner of the Warriors of the First Age to be lifted, not the banner of one of the individual houses, such as his own, or Finnian’s or Radsvid, but the banner of the last High King, who although he was of the Noldor, fought for all peoples of Beleriand against the Shadow.
“The grey sky brightens, soon it will be dawn. Let the first light of morning illuminate the banner so that these Goblins may see the banner they will die under this eve,” he spoke.
The banner was raised just as the first rays of dawn broke forth over the hills to illuminate it. Thalion drew his sword and held it high in salute to the banner. “We have raised the banner of our fallen King, Fingolfin the Valiant who dueled with the Shadow on the steps of Thangorodrim. Under this banner we shall not waver. So long as iron is hard and stone abides, we shall stand against the Shadow! Should the enemy breach the wall, may we seal it up with their own dead, and if at bitter end we fall, let us give them such a wounding that the Goblin King runs back to his holes in the mountains to lick his wounds buying other free peoples time to rally against his knavery!” A shout went up from the guards on the battlements and those in the courtyard that were still awake. Doubtless no Goblin camped in the fields below the castle would know the meaning of the cheer, nor of the banner than now flew over New Reindi’s walls. Tomorrow that would be the case. Tomorrow those that survived would know very well what that banner meant. They would learn it meant resolve that could not be crushed, valor that could not be destroyed, death to every Goblin intend on coming within reach of the defenders of New Reindi.
visitors can't see pics , please
register or
login