The Battle of Five Armies
The enemy advanced. So vast a number of goblins and wargs was enough to make the confidence of even the greatest warrior falter for a moment. Nefbarion shifted anxiously, fingering his bow. The young elf could feel his heart pounding, and a lump formed in his throat from both fear and excitement. From Nefbarion's position partway up the mountain, the goblin army seemed like little insects waiting to be squashed. If only it were that easy. He stared down at the snarling wargs, and at the goblins and their scimitars gleaming in the fading sunlight. Then he glanced uneasily at his friend Legolas, who stood beside him. Legolas returned the glance, and his eyes betrayed that he too shared Nefbarion's mixed emotions. "Don't worry," Legolas smiled with mock confidence. "This will be over before the sun sets."
Nefbarion looked at the sun, which was already low in the sky. He shook his head doubtingly. "I'm not sure."
"For some it will be," said the man on the opposite side of Nefbarion.
"Yes," Nefbarion admitted, "But let us not think of such things just yet."
The situation was rather awkward. Five armies there were; elves, men, and dwarves on one side, goblins and wargs on the other. It is reputed that elves and dwarves despise each other, but now this unexpected assault had forced them to ally. Nefbarion knew he would look back on this day and laugh. He would laugh at the elves for their failure to notice the goblins sooner, he would laugh at the very idea of fighting among dwarves, and he would laugh at himself for being afraid. But no one was laughing now. All eyes were fixed on the approaching enemy.
"Prepare to fire," someone commanded. Nefbarion fit an arrow to his bow effortlessly, as did the others who stood near him. A moment later, hundreds of arrows flew as one; hundreds of goblins and wargs fell simultaneously. Nefbarion saw his arrow pierce the throat of a warg. Again and again the elves and men fired, but their onslaught of arrows barely fazed the goblins. Even so, Nefbarion felt great satisfaction each time his arrow found its target. He didn't understand why such a fire of fury burned within him. Elves take no delight in killing, but these were goblins, and that made all the difference.
Below, another force of elves attacked. So deep was their hatred for the goblins that it drove all fear from their hearts. The maneuver proved successful, and while the shock of the elves' attack was still strong, the dwarves and men came on full force against the enemy. It looked as if the battle was surely won.
"See?" Legolas nudged Nefbarion, then pointed to the sun. The lower edge of the fiery sphere had only just begun to disappear beneath the horizon, and the sky was streaked with pale purple, pink, and orange.
Nefbarion grinned. "You were right, my friend. This is easier than I expected." He fit another arrow to his bow and took aim.
All of a sudden, a cry rang out from further up the mountain. "Take heed! The goblins are upon us! They've scaled the mountain! They--" The shout was cut off, and a great goblin soon emerged on the ledge above the company of archers. Laughing contemptuously, he hurled the lifeless body of the lookout guard toward them, and it landed right at Nefbarion's feet with a sickening thud. Nefbarion dropped his bow in astonishment. He looked up to see another host of goblins, huge, powerful, and full of malice. It didn't take him long to regain his wits. Nefbarion pulled out his long knife and stood ready for the attack.
The goblins were little insects no longer. Nefbarion felt the strange fire blaze up again inside of him. He charged forward with the rest of his companions and plunged his blade deep into the chest of the nearest goblin, scarcely having time to turn around and stop another from decapitating him. The fight went on much like this, and there was much blood spilled, both of men and of elves, but it was mostly goblin blood that covered the stones. In the midst of the turmoil and confusion, Nefbarion managed a glimpse of the sun, which now was half concealed below the horizon. Legolas had been wrong after all.
Nefbarion dodged the blade of a goblin, and was about to slay the vile creature, when he felt a shove from behind. He let out a yell and lurched forward, trying to dive out of the way of his attacker, but he was not quick enough. He felt a spear cut through his leg, and straight into the ground. He would have cried out in agony, but the sound caught in his throat, and all he could manage was a nauseated moan. The spear was wrenched from his leg. Nefbarion rolled over to see the goblin towering over him with its spear upraised for the fatal strike and a cynical grin on its face. He tried to drag himself out of the way, but couldn't, for the pain from his wound was too great. This was the end. Then, the goblin let out a cry and fell over dead.
Legolas now stood beside Nefbarion. He stooped to help, but Nefbarion stopped him. "Look out!" he managed to shout. Legolas spun around just in time to block a strike directed right at him. He aimed a solid kick at the goblin's knee, and the goblin staggered just enough that Legolas could thrust a knife through its back. The goblin fell, and Legolas turned back to Nefbarion, but another goblin stood in his way, then three more. Legolas was forced farther and farther back.
The sky was dark. Nefbarion was gazing at the dim orange glow that the sun left behind, so he never saw the goblin-sword before it plunged into his heart.
"…Among the goblin dead there lay many men and many dwarves, and many a fair elf that should have lived yet long ages merrily in the wood."
-The Hobbit
The end…? Do you want another chapter? I won't be doing more than 2 chapters total, and only if anyone wants more. The rest is pretty predictable…*shrugs* Well, review, review, review!!!