The beast screams- great limbs flailing this way and that- and topples forwards.
I skip nimbly away as it crashes to the ground, and in another second I am in another combat.
The troll is not dead, but I cannot keep my attention on it when surrounded.
Easterling spears stab at me from all angles, but my blades are enough to keep them at bay for the moment.
"Thirty-two! Thirty-three! Thirty-four!"
I grin- the dwarf is a long way behind me, even if I don't count the trolls.
My blades feel like they are extensions of my arms and they spin faster and faster, turning my every movement into a razor-sharp hurricane of death. Easterling blood splatters and shattered spears splinter and I shout for joy, feeling nothing but exhilaration as the music of the battle grows louder and louder in my ears.
This is what I was born for.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.