Drops of water pour down heavily from thick, dark clouds that hover beneath a black sky
No moon shows through the blanket of black and gray
Warriors of every kind stand along the walls of Helm's Deep, ready to meet their doom or to meet their victory
The rhythmatic stomping grows louder as the enemy moves in
An arrow is released, sending one down to his demise
One down nine thousand nine hundred nintey-nine to go
So it begins
One Elf stands within his companions of Men and Elves alike, his face contorted with determination
The enemy rushes forward and the archers prepare their bows
Fire
Some fall in their tracks, others keep going
Ladders
Bring out the swords
The real battle begins
An explosion breaks down a wall
The rain has stopped, but the battle rages on
Fall back to the keep
One Elf turns his back and falls
He is caught by a king
One moment to late
He looks to the stars and flies toward them
He is at peace.