Shift gazed sullenly ahead as he walked down the long stone hallway, hands bound. He slowed his pace, only to be jabbed in the back with the tip of a pike. He winced and walked on, and soon he emerged from the tunnel, and found himself before the Citadel of Gondor. But it was not quiet and peaceful like any other day, no. Today people packed the Seventh Circle, and it seemed the entire country of Gondor appeared for this day.
"Public excecutions. Always drawing a crowd," Shift muttered, but his words went unheard. He scowled as he was led into the ever-brightening daybreak, and the center of the Seventh Circle. He was forced to his knees, and a large human stalked over to him, roughly tieing a black blindfold over the elf's eyes. Shift's sense of hearing instinctively sharpened with the loss of his sight, but the noise of the crowd was too great to make anything out. Suddenly, trumpets sounded, and all was quiet until a voice spoke out.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Elves, Dwarves, and Shirefolk, today, on the morn of the Great Festival, we begin our festivites with the death of a murderer, and a follower of our Greatest Foe Sauron." The voice stopped and the roar of the crowd overtook Shift's hearing. Several seconds passed and the crowd quited, and the voice spoke again. "This Elf was found last night in an unnamed pub, clutching a sword, and laughing as he played in the blood of a man he brutally decapitated. We can only assume from the information gathered that this Elf is a follower of Sauron, and came to disrupt the festival. This Elf was tried late last night and found guilty of the charges of murder, and espionage. As such was his method of slaughtering an innocent man, he shall be repayed with his own death...by decapitation!" The crowd roared again. Shift merely scowled. "Does this traitor have any last words?" asked the voice of the herald. Shift straightened, and then spoke loudly and clearly.
"May Mandos have mercy on your souls." Shift spoke bitterly, and his head was forced down onto a block. All he could hear then was the crowed roaring with laughter. Soon, a chant broke out in the crowd.
"Off with his head! Off with his head!" The people cried over and over. As the executioner raised his axe, the people screamed and yelled louder and louder, until the sound was deafening. But the axe never fell. For at the moment, the crowd's cries of delight turned to murmurs of wonder, then to screams of horror as a giant stone ball smashed into the Seventh Circle, rocking the entire city. Then another collided, and another, until the city was caught in a rain of deadly stone. People screamed and ran in every direction, and Shift flipped around and felt along the ground where the executioner was to find his axe. Using the blade, he cut the restraints that held his wrists, and removed his blindfold. Looking about wildly, Shift saw what he feared most.
The invasion had begun. Thousands upon thousands upon thousands of Orcs marched across Pelenor Fields, lead by giant trolls, and hauling with them monstrous trebuchets which unleashed the deadly rain of stone upon the city. The guard scrambled for their weapons and the people hurried to find shelter. A large shadow passed over Shift, and then another, and yet another. He looked up and head a deafening cry as three enourmous beasts dropped from the sky. As the drake-like creatures dove toward the circle, three figures leaped from their backs and alighted gracefully before the White Tree. The beasts pulled away and flew off out of sight until they were needed again. The figures began walking toward the Citadel, and then Shift picked up the executioner's axe and charged. As he reached the trio and swung the mighty two-handed axe, he gave a battle cry, but his cry was cut short as the air was forced from his lungs by means of the hilt of a sword connecting solidly with the diaphragm. He fell to his knees and dropped the axe. The center figure moved on, the other two remained. They threw back their hoods and drew their swords. Saiven and Nevias stood facing the downed agent of Mirkwood, glaring. Saiven's blade glowed a bright blue, and Nevias's a bright red. They walked slowly toward Shift.
"Don't worry about him! Burn the tree!" Menel cried as she threw back her hood and approached the mighty doors of the citadel. She almost entered, but stopped, and turned about. "Do it!" Her two companions obliged as they pointed their glowing blades toward the sacred White Tree, and blue and red flames erupted from the swords, flowing into the tree and setting it ablazing.
"No!" Shift yelled, regaining his breath and taking up the axe once more. Moving with almost demonic speed he reached the brothers and swung the axe handle at Saiven's head, taking him by surprise. Saiven toppled over, but scrambled to his feet quickly. Nevias merely laughed and then said,
"You can't defeat us. I am feeling merciful this morn. Leave the city now, and never return to this part of the world. Do this and I shall spare the she-elf's life."
"Raen is...alive?" Shift stuttered, letting his guard down. He realized his mistake a second too late as a bright blue blade made contact with flesh, piercing skin, muscle, and bone. As the blade was withdrawn, a body slumped to the ground.