20. On Orc-Killing
The swordsmen charged while archers of the Golden Wood fired continuously from beyond the range of their opponents' bows, striking only Orcs amid the swirling fray.
Glorfindel needed not the encumbrance of armor. Glowing like a Vala, he threw the Orcs into fear and confusion, destroying their order. Any Orcs unlucky enough to come near met swift ends at the point of his sword.
Celeborn, in the shining armor of Doriath, was little less fearsome than Glorfindel, mowing down Orcs as if they were harmless creatures.
Erestor wheeled like a demon, his sword slicing cleanly through all it touched - scimitar, shield, armor, flesh and bone. The Orcs quickly learned to fear the blade, but Erestor ran them down, wreaking vengeance on the murderers of his children.
Thranduil wielded both sword and long-dagger, stabbing or slicing with one even as he deftly used the other as shield.
The lighter, 'lesser' Silvans ran hither and thither, shooting from close range or knifing Orcs in the back as opportunity allowed, saving many swordsmen.
All equally Quendi, their eyes blazed death to their enemies. The Orcs never had a chance.