Ch2. Isildur's Departure.
The sounds of drums got closer and closer, but by now the drums came from both the west and east river bank. Isildur felt deep inside that this is the doing of the Dark Lord
to well organized and armed where these orcs. His eyes now overlooked Mirkwood's crown of leaves...
"Sons of Numenor, of the Seven Stars... servants of the White Tree! Hold firm, if we are to perish, that we SHALL! But not like dogs at the hands of tyrants!"
Then the line facing the crowned hill fell back forming a circle with spearmen at front and swordsmen at back. Knights surrounded Isildur and his kin, the light in the kings eyes
had faded away... hope failed.
"Father! I know what you carry... and I understand your pain... but this is our battle you must go and take IT to the wisest. GO, GO NOW, flee... you are the ring bearer, you must escape. You have one option fail and it is to our destruction!" said Elendur with a low voice.
"You know of this? HOW? Either way NO, we shall wait, Thranduil must of heard the drums, HE will come." said Isildur shouting frightened at Elendur.
"At what use?! In a couple of minutes the orcs will arrive and as much as I hate to say it, they are grater the us."
"I will go my son, if it is to a good cause, but I trust that you will return to me one day." Isildur said in grate pain.
"OTHAR, come here!" shouted Isildur.
"I trust you with this my brave squire, the sword of my kin Narsil, the sword of Elendil, take it to the elvensmiths in Rivendell, may it serve in brighter days when it shall be renewed and the crownless again shall be king.
Now flee!"
At that point Isildur and Elendur stood face to face king and prince, father and son... both knew what to do. Isildur then ran out of the circle jumping on the east bank of the river, near a high point
of the river passage. Even there the drums could be heard. He sought to hide but he could not find any place for he wore heavy armor. The river started to wash the filthy feet of orcs when Isildur put
behind his armor and grate sword and the ring that he had so much hatred towards, he had now put it on his finger. But even with the ring he dared not move, he stood there, overlooking his son, Elendur.
Elendur had now brought all of his men to him and in one final march and with a shout so high that it passed like a painful wind thru all of Middle-Earth he confronted the orcs like a true Numenorean, Elendur
the uncrowned king, the brave son of the king.
"Years ago Sauron made a grate mistake the murder of the son of the king. They swore revenge, there is no other way let the storms of war begin!"... the last words of Elendur, the words that Isildur painfully heard as
Elendur and his men perished in an instant.
The sounds of drums got closer and closer, but by now the drums came from both the west and east river bank. Isildur felt deep inside that this is the doing of the Dark Lord
to well organized and armed where these orcs. His eyes now overlooked Mirkwood's crown of leaves...
"Sons of Numenor, of the Seven Stars... servants of the White Tree! Hold firm, if we are to perish, that we SHALL! But not like dogs at the hands of tyrants!"
Then the line facing the crowned hill fell back forming a circle with spearmen at front and swordsmen at back. Knights surrounded Isildur and his kin, the light in the kings eyes
had faded away... hope failed.
"Father! I know what you carry... and I understand your pain... but this is our battle you must go and take IT to the wisest. GO, GO NOW, flee... you are the ring bearer, you must escape. You have one option fail and it is to our destruction!" said Elendur with a low voice.
"You know of this? HOW? Either way NO, we shall wait, Thranduil must of heard the drums, HE will come." said Isildur shouting frightened at Elendur.
"At what use?! In a couple of minutes the orcs will arrive and as much as I hate to say it, they are grater the us."
"I will go my son, if it is to a good cause, but I trust that you will return to me one day." Isildur said in grate pain.
"OTHAR, come here!" shouted Isildur.
"I trust you with this my brave squire, the sword of my kin Narsil, the sword of Elendil, take it to the elvensmiths in Rivendell, may it serve in brighter days when it shall be renewed and the crownless again shall be king.
Now flee!"
At that point Isildur and Elendur stood face to face king and prince, father and son... both knew what to do. Isildur then ran out of the circle jumping on the east bank of the river, near a high point
of the river passage. Even there the drums could be heard. He sought to hide but he could not find any place for he wore heavy armor. The river started to wash the filthy feet of orcs when Isildur put
behind his armor and grate sword and the ring that he had so much hatred towards, he had now put it on his finger. But even with the ring he dared not move, he stood there, overlooking his son, Elendur.
Elendur had now brought all of his men to him and in one final march and with a shout so high that it passed like a painful wind thru all of Middle-Earth he confronted the orcs like a true Numenorean, Elendur
the uncrowned king, the brave son of the king.
"Years ago Sauron made a grate mistake the murder of the son of the king. They swore revenge, there is no other way let the storms of war begin!"... the last words of Elendur, the words that Isildur painfully heard as
Elendur and his men perished in an instant.