Board Thread:Story Forum/@comment-26149161-20150615222132/@comment-26149161-20150701200100

Ithilion looked around. He’s right he thought. We cannot win this. “Arhir! Thonereth! Gather the injured and pull them back! Daercrist, Finlo! You too!” He saw Ingrim was okay. “Lead those who can walk to the upper level! Gather any elves who remain!” The four ran off. Ithilion grabbed the hand of a fallen elf and pulled her up. “Come on, we have to get out of here. ” With the wounded she-elf warrior leaning on him, he faced Cabanor, who was fighting with the last of his warriors. “King’s Son!” he called to him. “Your name will go down on the annals of this world! May we meet again in the embrace of Elinyel! Farewell!” Cabanor, surrounded, smiled at him. Then he spun around and  parried another stab a second too late. He staggered, blood springing from the wound in his stomach, and fell onto the carpet of bodies. Running up the hill with the wounded warrior, a icy claw gripping his chest, Ithilion didn’t look back.

Caras Lossonaur was designed so that one side of it was edged by the great lake Nin Aeglos. The lake was at a higher level that the western city wall, so to reach it the company had to run east and uphill. Along the way, they gathered what remained of the Taurferim to them. At the hill’s crest, by the lakeshore, they found Neldanor lying on a stretcher, unconscious.. Two guards stood by him. “How is he?” Ithilion asked. “He’ll live.” one responded. “He’s touched the dragon’s nostrils, but got away unroasted.” “But where is Cabanor? Doubtless he should be here with the rearguard.” asked the other. “Alas!” cried the elf Ithilion had saved. “The prince will never more lead us to victory, or stand above the city in the sun. He fell by the gate.” The horror was evident on the guard’s faces. “Evil tidings indeed! Now any hope we had is lost!” one exclaimed. “We must flee across the ice.” Arhir declared. Ithilion surveyed the lake. Frozen solid for most of the year, it looked safe enough. But he could tell it was nearing the time when it melted and flooded into the sea. “They’re coming! We have no other choice!” Arhir urged. “Grrr. A’hll do it. But if I fall, I’ll bring you down with me.” growled Narin.

The company, along with survivors from the gates and citizens of the city, ran across the frozen lake. The elves, gifted with incredible balance and sure-footedness, sprinted as if the ice was made of rock. The dwarves, however, were having trouble. Narin, lagging behind, slipped and smashed his rear on the ground. Howling with pain, he grabbed Arhir’s cloak and brought him down as well. Dwain and Narin roared with laughter. Arhir was substantially less amused. “We are under attack and this is what you are doing?! You will get us all killed!” Sure enough, the Megildain were gaining. Darts whistled through the air, one lodging itself in Arhir’s hood. From his crouching position, Arhir nocked one of his last arrows and shot the archer responsible. But more stormed up to take his place. Taurfaerim were falling, pierced by eagle feathered arrows. A company of sappers had set up catapults in the lower levels of the city. These began to shower stones and bolts onto the lake. Great cracks and crevasses appeared, into which slipped fallen elves. Arhir and the dwarves were running now, dodging arrows and jumping cracks. Ingrim was in front of them. Another huge boulder, launched by some oversized catapult, exploded the ice ahead of him. Ingrim’s momentum was too great. He tripped and fell into the crack, disappearing into the dark water. 