Even before the order to attack is given, we fall upon the hosts of
Mordor. Too soon. Though valiant, we are too few to achieve
our goal, and I watch in horror as one after another falls. These
are my friends, my comrades. Then you too fall, and I kneel at
your side, heedless of the battle still raging.
Scalding, bitter tears fill my eyes as you look on me for the last
time, your hand brushing my face. Then you too are gone, and
around us warriors kneel in homage.
“All hail King Thranduil,” intones one, and others follow.