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The Elves were swift in their response, the arrows from their bows flying thickly at the two lines of attack the Orcs had mounted, before and behind their small group. The Orcs had let their own bowmen begin the attack, and under cover of the deadly black arrows, they moved in closer to the Elves.
One of the Elves, in the flurry of first encounter, had been wounded by a black-fletched Orc missile. Gromwakh, Snikdul, and two other of their companions rushed in, clubs and blades held at the ready intending to finish off the hapless Elf. The rut of war was full upon them as they harried him.
And on the edge of their awareness was the sense that the others of their group had put down their bows and raced in also . . .
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