Rhavaniel had been thrown clear when the horse beneath her was felled by arrows. The Elf Guard she was riding behind was not so lucky. The screaming animal toppled over, trapping him. Rhavaniel knew him - Glennodad, a fine young Elf not more than three hundred years old. The Elf Guard officer, Vehiron, was using his own dead horse as shield. Rhavaniel quickly did the same.
The Orcs clearly had a strategy, with the smaller Orcs forming a screaming, darting, inner circle and the larger Orcs and Wargs circling from a safer distance. The Orcs had lit green branches, creating a blinding smoke which made it harder for Vehiron to find his mark. Despite the distractions, he was able to dispatch a number of small Orcs with deadly efficiency. The larger Orcs were obviously willing to sacrifice their foot soldiers.
Rhavaniel grabbed Glennodad's quiver and handed it to Vehiron. She pushed her stolen Orc spear under the dead horse as a lever and lifted with all her might. The dead horse budged enough for her to reach under and grab the Guard's boot, pulling his leg fee. The leg was broken and bloody below the knee, and even in his unconscious state, Glennodad groaned in pain.
"Leave him be and pick up his bow!" Vehiron told her.
Rhavaniel complied, putting her anger into her aim at the largest Orc.
"Take out the leader if you can." Kili had told her, "Most Orcs are worthless cowards without the one they fear the most."
While sitting upright to shoot, Rhavaniel was suddenly an exposed target. The Orcs began the next phase of their plan.
The grappling hook sunk into her left arm with a searing pain, and a sharp tug caused her to miss her mark. Her arrow hit the largest Orc in his thigh instead of his chest, and he roared in rage and pain.
Rhavaniel cut the rope on the grappling hook with Glennodad's sword. The grappling hooks came again, and she could not take even a second shot with her bow. She was using it to swat away the hooks.
She turned to Vehiron and freed him from a hook, only to have two more catch him, and another catch his bow, tearing it from his hands.
"Down to swords, little one." he told her, drawing out his own glowing blade.
Rhavaniel deflected and cut away hooks for both of them. She realized too late that their fallen comrade had been hooked by Orcs, until they had dragged him beyond the pitiful shelter of dead horses.
Rhavaniel screamed and lunged after him, but Vehiron held her back.
She did not want to witness them butchering her brethren, but could not bear to look away, as if that would leave him even more alone. But the Orcs did not kill him. They stripped him of armor and weapons and wrapped him in net.
"They want us alive." she whispered to Vehiron, then shouted, "Surrender!"
"No, child!" Vehiron pushed her down. But the circling foot soldiers had suddenly stopped screaming and jabbing. The commander of the group, astride his silver-furred Warg, had raised his hand to quell them.
"We can buy ourselves time, brother." she whispered.
"And their leader shows himself..." Vehiron understood. Though they had no idea what to do with the information, at least they had it.