It all started with rain.
Anglachelm was awaiting a word from Eregion for a week. The whole Hammer company was fighting there and the most recent reports about their whereabouts were not so accurate. Hammer quartermastery was sending more letters to the valley about their supply needs than the command itself. All these stalemate and blurry news were discomforting Tur of Vanimar beyond measure.
Though this discomfort was not in vain. Hammer had always been a problematic order next to its endless need for supplies. Though they had excellent reputation, Hammer was unpredictable at times. Numerous times before they did break the battle line for a preemptive attack, earning valour for themselves, but at great costs. Like Gwindor and his retinue famously did at Nirnaeth, their hotheaded minds did not advance too much as the ages passed. The flame which Eru Illuvatar put in this race was slow to douse. Thus Anglachelm was not comfortable, for he was concerned of more Hammerite behaviour in the south. As the Hound of the Order was loose in these circumstances while away from the valley, more trouble was always following the Order.
Despite the peaceful weather. He looked at Cirith Imladris from the Valley and sighed. His foresight was blurred back in those days, and this did not help him very much. The growing discontent at heart was burning him as the time passed. Hammer was heading to Enedwaith. One step closer to Isengard, in a land nothing but hostility to the elves. Even a seasoned infantry company under the best command might fail there.
And he thought that they would.
Next morning he went out to the eastern porch of the Last Homely house deliberately, not to see Cirith Imladris. Perhaps he was trying to put a distance between himself and his daily concerns. Then he started to sing a song of old. Started as humming and then sung louder. As hummings turned into words of a language which Thingol had banned in his realm long ago, shades grew around him. For a song of fate he was singing that day. Anglachelm did not stop when first thunderbolts started flashing over the hills and the summer rain soaked his hair. He lifted his eyes to the clouds and let the song fade into humming. Then nodded, like if he had understood something, perhaps a message that mortals could not comprehend.
Swiftly entering to the hall he headed to his chamber and left there in less than five minutes. Elves at the hall silently but curiously looking at him while he was carrying his blue armor and hauberk over his shoulders next to his sword. He left the House of Elrond in a hurry and went to main square as the rain turned into a downpour. Elves were scattering to avoid the rain but Anglachelm was too stuck in his dark thoughts and walked in confident manner. The time slowed around him as his thoughts overwhelmed his day. It felt like a day has passed when he reached to stables and was ready to go after a short pause.
Reaching to the square on horse, he noticed a number of elves were already preparing to leave the valley for Eregion. Vast supply demand was forcing extra hands for the road on daily basis from the valley and Anglachelm decided to stick to this group, in order to offer them some protection instead of travelling alone. And he did.
The journey to Eregion was mostly uneventful. The presence of three Orders of Vanimar (the fourth was rumored to be on the road) with numerous Rivendell citizens helping them apparently already made the dunlanders and mainstream invaders to evacuate northern Eregion for the moment. They reached Gwingris and learned that Hammer has moved forward to deepest south Eregion, based themselves in Mirobel ruins using it as their fort. The supplies were needed there the most as the Gwingris garrison reported.
On the road to Echad Eregion the party was down to eleven elves. Mostly commoners, craftsmen and musicians by trade. In their cart, there were a monthly supply and letters from the valley. The group was worthy for the battle effort but only two of them were able to use weapons beyond self protection. Anglachelm and a girl called herself Aiweth there, which would play a crucial role before this tale ends.
On the noon of eighth day they committed to the road, Anglachelm and his commoner folk arrived to Echad Mirobel. A vast infrastructure was already being installed in an around the perimeter by Hammer and Arrow order auxillaries and whoever was not busy with something, was bringing tools and fresh vegetables to the fort. His coming to the camp brought wonder and happiness to the those who were present.
-"Tur himself have committed to the battle!" a Hammerite shouted from afar. And this brought many curious elves together, looking at the Tur. Thinking swiftly he realized that since the days of Dol Dinen his own flag of swan was not in the war. Anglachelm in response smiled and waved to the trench diggers. Then asked to the Mirobel's warden, whom overlooking to the engineering of the trenches and shift rotation.
"To which direction did Lord of Hammer go, and when?" he asked.
"Its but the ninth day my lord" the Warden replied, "They crossed the river and entered Enedwaith, not listening our counsel in this"
"Nine days! And no word of them?"
"None my lord. Our scouts do not cross the water and harass Dunlanders. Hammer was the first company doing so since many years"
Anglachelm then turned his eyes to the trenches, looking at pickaxes falling and rising randomly afar. Thinking silently that a company heavy and slow as Hammer, must have been in a tight spot since it would be very unwise for Veryacano to accomodate himself behind enemy lines for nine days. If Hammerites were carrying all their food and utensils on their backs then their battle prowess were to be halved, since they would be double slow in march. If they went without food, then Hammer was starving by now. Then the Tur turned back to Warden with curiosity:
"How heavy was their backpacks do you think?" he asked silently.
"Very my lord!" Warden replied. "We did jokes even that Hammer was going to a month lasting picnic down south heh hee"
Anglachelm looked at his face sadly and nodded. Realized that Veryacano was playing a huge gamble beyond Rivendell's reach at what a cost Eru only knows.
"Since you are here then who is left behind for Trollshaws and Misty Mountains? If I may ask." Warden added, shaking Anglachelm in his calculations.
"Warband of Lady Elisbeth seem to wreak havoc in the Misties and road to Trollshaws is open" Anglachelm replied. Then he had his map marked to the warden, to the possible routes into Enedwaith.
"I will go after them and advice them to remain in Eregion if possible. They seem to listen nobody else these days" Anglachelm added. "Is there any troops wishing to join to the main host here?" He asked.
"umm.. No my lord" Warden said. "Nobody would go to Enedwaith willingly"
"We would!"... A voice raised from their backs and turning slowly they noticed Aiweth in battle gear with some scattered elves of Rivendell. Herself was a warden in the valley and hoping to receive come recommendation to serve in a battle proven company. Order of Fountain perhaps. The company was totalling eight elves, himself included.
"Well... better than nothing" Anglachelm thought and nodded slowly. And before that evening sun set, they were already packed up, and on their way into Enedwaith.
The road were less then welcoming as they have seen the tracks of a company of arms going ever southwards. The corpses and damage on the corpses were suggesting that it was Hammer. Since a lot of Dun sentrymen were perished under the strikes of blunt weaponry. The companions did not speak much and did rest under sunlight. Traveled only at night and most carefully.
On the fourth night they have seen the fires under the horizon and decided that Veryacano was near. Traveled carefully under the forest and laid eyes on a recently burnt village. Some corpses were scattered around and some were still crawling. There were shouts in the air but no hint about elves. They kept evaluating the scene until that dark moment.
Not much later they were spotted by the elements of Dun host and found themselves in a tricky situation. Not only they were helpless deep behind enemy lines, but also surrounded in the middle of a hostile force. And worst of all that the enemy were now aware of the elves. Thinking that they were responsible of arson and murder of their countrymen.
Anglachelm saw the threat and pulled his shield from his back. Shielding the wardens and standing in between Dun-men and elves, he guided his companions on a rock near where dunedain call it Echad Dagoras. There they made their last stand and found themselves surrounded with ever increasing and violent Dunlanders. They attacked, repelled, gained strength and attacked again. For an hour in the middle of sword clashes and shield thumps and painful cries the battle continued. Anglachelm kept fighting until all their companions have perished and died next to him. Himself was wounded in the thigh by an arrow as the fight progressed.
Then a captain of dunlendings hit to Aiweth's back with back of his two handed axe and incapacitated her. Before the Tur could respond to him, he swiftly noticed a dark dagger set to Aiweth's neck, and threatening her life.
"Drop it elfling!" Dun Captain snarled. "Let us be friends... or I will carve her throat out!"
Anglachelm sighed. That was the end of it... It was something that he could not force himself to breach. All his life long he had to protect something else than his own life. His sister. His house. His companions.... He ever had to be the guardian. It was his destiny to suffer the loss of great many of those who were protected. But it always has been at a great cost for the taker. He looked around on the top of the rock he is standing. Silently gazed at the corpses of many enemies around it. A lot of them were perished... A single blood dripped from the tip of his sword as he lowered it slowly. Then the Dunlanders started laughing and approached at him, and hurled him off the rock among cheers.
The days of his Turship was over.
At the same moment Veryacano was deciding to return at Mirobel as his supplies were depleting quite fast and before the angry host he left behind after burning their villages catch up with him.
Daegond was happy that morning in their group.
"Did you see my lord?" He asked "We did burn their homes and they could not even follow the Hammer!"
Sergeant Ancalasse was silent. His ever cautious manner was expecting more before this all ends.
And Anglachelm....
He was looking at the rain which turned into a downpour. It was soaking him wet and decreasing the effects of the insults which Dunlendings were throwing at him. They did parade him and Aiweth from the village Hammerites burnt, and children did threw things at them and spit continuously. Then he was forced to enter to a cave which Dunlendings used as a prison... and they caged him like a beast. The rain never stopped outside, he heard it day and night in his restless sleeps..
And rain ended it all.
It all ended in rain. All good days of his memories.. And all light.
He was taken a day to a place where no light could penetrate and no tales could escape.
