There was a rush of air coming up to meet her as Liruliniel leapt upwards; she almost forgot the rush, the adrenaline of the unknown with battles. The nervous tension which had been travelling quickly through her body, had seemingly disappeared now, all that remained was this solid determination to not fall. Or at least, avoid that outcome where and if she could. The prospect of death hung over everyone, she felt bad for selfishly worrying about herself, when there was so much more at stake. If she did fall, her death wouldn't be in vain, would it? No matter what, everything comes to pass.
With a grimace, she gritted her teeth when she was met with a ricocheting block, the jarring sensation travelled up her arm and had her momentarily rattled. Shaking herself free from this feeling, she narrowed her eyes at the dirty creature before her. The goblin was barely dressed, let alone equipped for war yet here it was, still trying. Snarling and spitting something out, Liruliniel tilted her head and lashed her sword forwards; she didn't know what this thing said to her, she didn't care to know either, at this time it was her current opponent and she was putting it down.
She was very aware to the others who came leaping and bounding over the dwarf wall fighting alongside her. Already she could see bodies of the dead littering the ground, and though her heart was heavy that some had perished so soon, she couldn't dwell on them, on their names, their families, it was too much. War never bought happiness, not really, because what remained afterwards was always a struggle. It was a struggle the last time, the elven army never gathered its numbers back from those that fell alongside Oropher.
The mere thought of her former king had Liruliniel's resolve turning even more stony and serious. He had fallen in a battle much similar, a battle for the sake of peace to settle over the land. Everyone here was fighting for the same thing now, the dwarves in the Mountain were not on anyone's minds, not when so much chaos was surrounding them. And it was chaos, the goblins and some orcs here were fighting, scrambling, ignoring those underneath their feet to get at anyone. It didn't matter if it was an elf, or a dwarf, they were trying their hardest to cut down anyone. Their attacks were methodical if not a little clumsy at times, the orcs were more precise, a lot more weight and muscle was behind their attacks and at times Liruliniel caught herself in a struggle.
An orc before her practically growled in her face before its face went slack, a sword was pierced through its open mouth. Liruliniel flinched at the blood which splattered against her skin yet tugged her sword free from the block it had against her, its dead body slipped off the sword and she turned to see Imrathon standing there with a frown on his face. She looked thankful at him before her eyes widened, reaching out and pushing him aside she slashed and stabbed at the orc which was trying to attack from behind. It saw he was distracted and was going to take the opportunity to cut him down.
Liruliniel was not having any of that, though being blocked and suddenly kicked back had her staggering. She sunk to the muddy floor and became lost to Imrathon then, there were just so many people, so many bodies that it was becoming hard to truly tell who was who, if someone was an enemy or not. The small space between the pair was quickly swallowed up in barrelling dwarves and frantically calling goblins.
Liruliniel was fine. Her armour took the brunt of the kick and she pulled herself out of the mud, the mire sticking to her once shining armour, regardless she gritted her teeth and vaulted forwards. Both swords reflected the sunlight brilliantly, the greying clouds above didn't take away from the shining of her weaponry as she managed to switch. Silmacil was heavy in one hand, though useable and deadly, but if grasped onto its hilt with both hands, Cúferne levelled up quite nicely, the two blades were wielded together, the weight slightly doubled but she was still quick and deadly with her strikes and slashes.
Pausing and tilting her head, she wiped a hand quickly over her forehead, something was trickling from her hairline, looking at the black blood on her knuckles she frowned. She was currently watching as Dáin came riding past, his boar quick and bucking its head every now and again. Whatever was on the other end of its tusks got knocked down, it may not have died but the blow from Dáin's heavy hammer did the job. She couldn't help but wince, what a dreadful way to go. Crushed ribs, broken arms and legs, even a smash to the head, everything about his attacks caused immense pain to occur.
No, she did not sympathise. Yes, she didn't like taking a life; but, well, the goblins and orcs were her enemy, if she didn't kill them, or whomever crossed her path, then they'd do it to her in return. But worse. Liruliniel whipped her arms, flicking blood from her sword as she saw in the slight clearing that an orc had stepped forwards spotting her just as clearly. Snarling and revealing yellowed teeth, Liruliniel frowned and pressed her lips into a thin line. They were steadily walking towards each other before at the last moment, the crude sword within the orc's hand was practically thrown her way. Liruliniel ducked back and cut upwards, deterring the sword from coming any closer to her. Her opponent stumbled a little from the strength behind such a simple action, yet regained composure enough to turn and try with quick succession which was surprising for the size of the orc, to parry and hit her several times.
Each quick slash or stab, she managed to block but she was very much aware that she was backing up. This orc had her on the defensive and wasn't allowing her any chance to return the favour, to change the course of this fight and land a killing blow. Liruliniel jumped to the side, avoiding another fighting pair and stabbed sidewards, the orc latched onto her arm, pulling her forward if only to hit his forehead against hers. Liruliniel hadn't seen that coming and she could feel her legs buckle. She hadn't been hit like that before, if ever. The blow was hard, it felt like a piece of rock had just crashed against her head and her eyes rolled slightly.
She was aware enough to feel herself be let go, the mud welcomed her readily, soggy and soft yet wet, she opened her eyes and stared upwards. The orc overshadowed her, he muttered something but her ears were ringing, but she distinctly heard the word 'Dreamwalker' come from the blackened and chapped looking lips. That did it for her, with a resolute scream she lifted up her arm and stabbed upwards. The orc doubled over, looking at the sword now piercing its armour and stomach to her. The last thing she expected was for it to lean more on her sword and come closer, its sword too was coming closer still. With Cúferne in hand, she managed to get her senses under control enough to bring it across her body. Letting out a pained yell, she tried pushing upwards, the full weight of her enemy was pressing downwards, it didn't care if it was a goner, it had still planned to kill her too.
Liruliniel struggled, feeling herself sinking in the mud. So many feet had trampled it, the softness did little to aid her with purchase, she could feel watery mud seeping into her tunic, through the neckline and even through the minute gaps of her armour. It was weighing her down, pulling her down, Liruliniel's breath hitched; she didn't want to be dragged down into the ground and be walked over and on by hundreds of feet, she was still alive and panicking a little now as her grip was loosening on her hilt. She couldn't keep the weight of the orc off of her, her arm was shaking and it knew this clearly. With what could be considered a grin, the orc jolted, the movement sudden and sharp, sharper yet was the jagged blade which easily sought the gap between her shoulder and chest plate.
Liruliniel felt on fire, her shoulder burned and she arched as much as she could with being pinned down. The scream which was ripped from her throat did little but amuse the orc, kicking and struggling with her legs, she managed to lift them up, bending her knees she pushed them upwards. Her feet planted on the orc's chest plate and she pushed him away with all her might. It was a strain, her legs hurt, her shoulder was soaked, not just with mud, her own blood and whatever had spilt from the orc. Lifting her head up, she saw its dead body on the ground, unmoving and with Silmacil still in its flesh.
Liruliniel flexed her hand and winced, biting her lip she shut her eyes and let out a whimper. She could barely close her hand, she sat herself up. Getting the ringing from her ears, she glanced around with narrowed eyes, so much fighting was still happening, the clashing of steel had her tilting her head with a pained groan. She reached behind herself and felt the back of her head, pulling her hand forwards she looked at the blood upon her palm, red. She had cut her head open somehow as she went down, pressing a gentle finger to her shoulder she winced. Instantly regretting that, she got her feet underneath herself and moved forwards.
Reaching out she grasped onto the hilt of her sword, she had switched hands, not that her injured arm thanked her for it at all. Still being in a daze, Liruliniel's legs were taken out from underneath her again when she was barrelled into. Looking into the face of the goblin, she unsheathed a knife and stabbed it through its chin. Whatever it was trying to do, it failed, she rolled and pushed it off of herself. Collecting her weaponry again, she stood and moved onwards. To be honest, most of the dwarves and elves looked as much of a state as she did.
Feeling a hand grasp onto the back of her armour around her neck, she grimaced from the tug and screamed. Her arms flailed in the air as she was pulled back, she turned ready to hit out at whoever was there, only to pause. Imrathon. Liruliniel's eyes burned, she looked him over before he patted her on the shoulder, watching her pained expression he looked closer, they were in a lull, their own bubble and he could see the blood seeping into her tunic. His eyes widened before Liruliniel grasped onto his shoulder and pushed him aside, taking her with him this time just to see an orc go flying from being barged into by Dáin's boar.
"The city," Imrathon's voice suddenly became clear, Liruliniel shook her head. Putting a hand to her temple and wincing, had he been talking to her all this time? She hadn't heard, or she hadn't known, she didn't know. Everything was confusing, loud and confusing and sickening to her. She could feel bile threaten to come up, yet she focussed on her friend. "There is something happening in the city. We must go!" Imrathon said imploring her to listen, he sounded desperate, he looked it too before placing a hand gently against her back and pushing her onwards. His hope was to get her from this main battlefield and to one which was more manageable, if such a thing existed.
Within the city it was more enclosed, they were more likely to use the surroundings to their advantage. Out in the open they were all doing as best as they could, but more just seemed to be coming. No matter how many orcs and goblins that were cut down, more seemed to just appear to take their place. They climbed over the dead, any and all alike without a glance. They didn't care who they were stepping on, which had Liruliniel frowning. It reasserted how much this army needed to be put down.
Swallowing thickly she picked up her feet, she commenced running alongside Imrathon. A small band of goblins were before them, and both of them went crashing into them. Imrathon quick and precise with his sword strokes, Liruliniel a little more chaotic but no less precise, an arm went flying in some direction as she slashed upwards, another had a sword lodged in its collarbone, its head only just staying on before being kicked away by her. She spat out blood, she must've bit her lip or tongue somehow, probably from when she went down earlier.
Breathing heavily she tilted her head and moved onwards, she couldn't stand still, being still amongst a battle was the most unwisest things ever, it would mean death. And really, well, Liruliniel believed she had just almost looked death in the eyes and didn't want to do so again. Unfortunately, she didn't often get what she wanted and got caught in another group fight, a few dwarves were present for the fight too. She heard their rallying cries and their rather vulgar insults shot at the goblins before cutting them down. Liruliniel smiled down at them, she nodded and they inclined their heads in return.
It was then that she realised she had lost sight of Imrathon, again. Liruliniel turned on her heels and looked about herself, she stepped forwards and her eyes roamed the area. There were just so many, so many she couldn't tell where he was, or where he would even be. Hearing a shout, Liruliniel backed off and turned and ran. Keeping up with Arthion's long legs was perhaps the most ridiculous notion ever, but she had spotted the elk, and more importantly the rider upon him.
Thranduil had the high ground upon the elk, able to reach down and easily cut down anything that dared to get too close. Even if they didn't, his reach was long and the sword in his hand even longer. But he too had come into battle not that long after she had, he had watched her with pride, he had listened to her shout and saw her leap readily over the dwarves into battle. He had even seen her crash into the first rows of goblins which were charging forwards. But he had lost sight of her, keeping track of one being amongst so many was impossible. Simply impossible. So of course, he was utterly shocked when Arthion let out a snort, a whining noise and looked to the side. Thranduil thought it was another enemy, he was ready to attack only to see Liruliniel leaping and bounding over the dead, cutting down anyone who got in her way and letting out a groan if something hit against her shoulder, or she had to use her arm.
He glanced at her with wide eyes, worried and scared in a way he didn't know he was able to feel. Her hair was muddied, he couldn't even see her braids anymore, but even as she ran beside him and Arthion, he could see blood trickling down her neck, both red and black. Black blood was splashed across her face too, but a steady stream of red blood was coming from her lips, it didn't seem to be lessening at all as she spat to the side before skidding along the ground, turning and slashing upwards. The enemy she hit stumbled and fell to the ground gripping its stomach, trying to keep its organs in.
"Give me your hand!" Thranduil's voice was harsh sounding, loud over the clashing of weapons and shouts of the battle around them. But Liruliniel's eyes flicked sidelong at him, he saw the panic in the otherwise calm sea coloured orbs, yet she jumped and avoided a sword for the sake of throwing her hand in his. Thranduil didn't like the way she let out a scream from doing so, retracting his hand and directing Arthion in another direction, Thranduil saw blood on his hand. Looking over his shoulder briefly, he saw Liruliniel wince and grit out a sigh.
"The city, Imrathon said there was something happening in the city?" Liruliniel questioned, she managed to grip onto his waist with one hand. The other kept a sword in hand, the two-handed one being sheathed already, it was agonising her to use. The thought of not knowing if her friend had fallen had her stomach twisting, she honestly felt sick.
"The army has divided." Thranduil said while urging the elk on, he was running as quickly as he could. They were leaving the battlefield, the numbers thinning out yet even as they looked at Dale, they could see the army had already found a way in. He felt a weight against his back and looked over his shoulder quickly, Arthion simply mowing down whomever was in his way and trampling them down. Liruliniel's forehead was between his shoulder blades, he could see her shoulders rising and falling slowly. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she was about to pass out.
Her head snapped up suddenly though, her eyes flicked to the side and reaching out to stab downwards at a nearby orc. Whatever she was doing, or whatever was wrong, it seemed to have passed for her to get back into the moment. Thranduil too commenced following suit. Together they managed to cut down, or in Arthion's case, stamp down, whoever was unluckily there trying their luck. Which, to be honest, was quite a few. No matter the fact they were clearly outmatched, it didn't stop the orcs from trying. They had taken over Dale, but they had also left a chunk of the army outside the walls to defend it, to stop anyone getting back in. They intended to annihilate whoever resided within the still derelict city, once that was done the attention would fall back on whoever was still alive from the other armies.
The bridge back over to Dale was littered with those meaning ill-will, bowing his head low, it didn't take much for Arthion to impale those few on his antlers, it took even less time for Thranduil to whip his sword against their necks and decapitate them all. The entranceway was drawing nearer, the last thing either expected was to be shot upon. Arrow after arrow came sailing their way, only the target was not them, it was the elk which they were riding upon.
When Arthion fell, he took Thranduil and Liruliniel with him, whereas the former had the grace to roll and crouch, the latter tumbled and wobbled to a stand. She glanced back at the dead animal behind her, feeling her heart pull, her eyes burned, and it wasn't just because of the smoke in the air, the smell of blood and death, it was because she was immensely sad. Blinking her eyes, she looked forwards, Thranduil stood slowly upwards and flicked his eyes to the side to see her step beside him.
Unceremoniously, she spat blood to the side and clicked her neck before painfully reaching over her shoulder. Hoisting the sword in her good hand she glanced at him before nodding slowly, the orcs before them wasted no time in charging forwards, garbled sounds coming from their lips. Their helmets were as dark as their mottled skin, their swords were heavy in their hands and crashed loudly against the finer swords of the elves before them, it didn't stop them from veraciously fighting nonetheless.
Liruliniel's shoulder was failing her and all it took was for one to truly pay note to this and take advantage. Her aim was knocked wide, her arm splaying to the side and for the second time that day, she found a jagged blade cutting into her, only this one had the sense to go straight for her chest straight away. Her armour dented inwards, she could feel it pressing inwards against her skin, but the point of the sword was what she could feel the most. She could feel it pierce against her skin just below her collarbone, the aim was off, it wasn't near her heart, but it didn't stop it hurting.
Biting back a scream, she mustered something out if only to be dropped like a rag doll, when her body went limp. When the orc picked her up, she didn't know, but she crashed to the stone below her with a pathetic thud. She was laying on her side, her arms stretched out in front of herself and her legs slightly bent, her eyes were staring at nothing, but she could hear movement, marching and more sounds of steel clashing against steel.
She couldn't help but grit her teeth and groan when she was gently pushed onto her back, Liruliniel stared upwards dimly, "I'm getting too old for this." She muttered and flicked her eyes to Thranduil, he had seen her dangling there helplessly and wasted no time in dispatching the orc which had her impaled. The rest were easily dealt with, with thanks to the elven army appearing too.
"Can you still fight?" He asked, his low voice worried as his eyes assessed her. If she answered no, he didn't know what to do. Where was there to go? The city wasn't safe, and yes, he could protect her as they continued on, but she would hate being a burden. He however, would do anything within his power to protect her, he did not want to see her harmed anymore. His world stopped when he saw her with a sword entering her chest, a cold seeped into him and everything else blurred away and all that was left, was the distant feeling of a world without her being here. His question was his own way of asking if she was all right, and she knew this from her soft smile. She understood, of course she did.
Liruliniel pushed herself up, she put a hand to the hole in her armour, how hard had the orc stabbed her? Or tried to, at least? He was doing it slowly, trying to drag the pain out because that was something they liked. Why end things quickly, when they could watch how much pain they were inflicting before the end came? Liruliniel looked up at him, she couldn't really feel her shoulder anymore, her arm too was going numb. As for the new stab wound, she didn't know how deep it was, but she could feel a steady throb from it.
Thranduil waited for her to speak, he looked behind himself to see the small faction of the army take up a defensive position, waiting for him to stand and move and move with them. Liruliniel grasped onto her sword hilt, she sheathed the other and nodded his way, "I'm still breathing, so yes." Until there was no breath in her body, she would never stop. Thranduil shook his head, how he wished to lecture her, but he couldn't, he knew her drive all too well.
"Then we move," Thranduil stood up, glancing her way as she stood slowly, wincing and stretching a little before she nodded. She looked pained, muddied, bloodied and tired, yet she didn't pass any negative comment. She just looked his way, waiting for him to instruct in some way. Whipping the blood from his own two swords, Thranduil inclined his head, the small number from the army parted ways to let him through before following after him, although they didn't totally move and follow until Liruliniel went first.