[Durelin]

Early Spring - 1697 S.A.


The arrival of allies brought new hope to the majority of the residents of Ost-in-Edhil, the small contingent from Lorien seeming much larger than in reality. This may have been the feeling of the citizens, but the Lord Celebrimbor and his counselors did not share in it. The imposing certainty of war was only a more ominous presence in their minds, seeing that it was not long their city that had heard the call to war. The entire Elven race in Middle-earth had heard it, and even the Dwarves had been brought out from their rich caverns. Celebrimbor had started sending out small companies to quell minor raids on outlying towns in Eregion, and already those who had suffered orc attacks were coming into the city, alive and dead. The reports from the troops were always the same: complete destruction. This was Sauron’s goal.

But it could not be reached yet. An army was being assembled; anyone who did not wish to remain as ignorant to the danger as possible would realize that, and would prepare for it. Celebrimbor realized it, though he avoided coming face to face with it. All knew that Ost-in-Edhil was not completely defenseless, and thus many had much hope for the city, and Celebrimbor did his best to encourage this feeling. Most were more than willing to fight to defend their homes, and the lord of the city called all of the Elven men to take up arms. The forges around the city now worked only with iron and steel, and many craftsmen took up the sword – something they had not done in hundreds of years.

For over a year, the Lord of Eregion oversaw the preparation of his city for war. All of the faces he saw he tried to fix in his mind, and would hold them there, hoping to only ever see them again alive and well. By the early spring of 1697, as an unusually mild winter was coming to a close, one that had falsely led the Elves to a renewed hope, Ost-in-Edhil was feeling ready for any attack from a rabble of orcs.

No one had seen anything that could be called an army yet. Scouts had very little to report, and the quiet made Celebrimbor even uneasier. A few suggested that maybe there would be no war, that the small raids that they had suffered the past year were all there was, and as those had seemingly been put to an end, it was time for the city to return to its normal and more productive state. Few saw swords and shields as a sign of production like they did fine crafted jewelry and similar more beautiful creations.

But no one could help but look to the east, and wonder what lay beyond the Mountains of Mist, especially when the sun rose red from behind them. Celebrimbor was all but tormented by such images, seeing his city covered in blood in his dreams. He would walk through the city late at night, jumping at almost every shadow, his hand always at his belt, groping for a sword hilt that had not hung there for many years, and expecting an orc to jump out at him from behind every building and outcrop. Maegisil often stood out on the small balcony on his home, and saw the dark, frightened figure of his lord on the street below, and every time, Celebrimbor noticed his gaze. Neither dared to call out, each not wanting the other to know that they could find no rest, as they both saw their fear as weakness.

But though his despair was deep, Celebrimbor was glad and very grateful to the Elves of Lorien who were willing to fight for a land that was not their own. He was gladdened to see that the Elves were still united against the Enemy, and felt that if such remained the case, there was no way they could be destroyed. An Elven lord would always rule somewhere in Middle-earth.

He had met with the Lord Celeborn and the commander of the Lorien contingent, Eldegon. The Dwarves who had escorted them and the Lord of Lorien had returned to his forest home, both wanting to be with their people if Sauron’s destruction began to spread beyond Eregion, but Celebrimbor was very glad to have Eldegon and his troops, all skilled, determined, and loyal.

He had met several of these troops personally, and he tried to recall as many names and faces as he could. The names Vaele and Gilduin both stuck out in his mind, particularly the latter, the standard bearer. There were so many of these soldiers that he knew the names of, had spoken with…he was so determined not to let them die, though he knew that there would be little he could do. But his own life was not on his mind, only his obligation to his people. Thus was he able to harden himself, and save his tears for when he was alone.

Then, the torturing calm before the storm came to and end, and all fears were suddenly more real, as scouts returned, barely able to speak, with a new report. The army had been seen on the borders of Eregion itself. They saw orcs, easterlings, and all manner of strange creatures by the thousands, the tens of thousands…they did not know. And though Elgedon, who Celebrimbor had appointed as the military commander of the defense, demanded a more detailed report from the scouts, the elf-lord had heard enough.

He dismissed them, glancing at Maegisil to see that fear was also in his eyes, though there was no surprise. The Lord of Eregion held onto his composure for a few more moments, instructing Maegisil to accompany Commander Elgedon and call a council, the first official council Celebrimbor could remember holding in almost a decade. Alone, he closed his eyes to see hundreds of familiar faces, empty and lifeless, and he shook with fear.