Isildur stood in front of his tent, looking at his army who was awakening. Thousands of númenorians, men of Gondor, standing tall with their armour and weapons ready. He looked around with an approving look, everything seemed in order. The tired guards were replaced, and all around him his soldiers prepared for the next march.
Suddenly, one of his servants came running.
"Mylord, elven messengers have arrived. I believe they are sent by his lordship Gil-galad."
Isildur lifted one brow. It seemed that his father had been lucky in his dealings with the elvenking. To be frank, he had not honestly believed that Gil-galad would respond to Elendil's plea of help. What was Gondor, and what was Númenor, that the "powerful" and mighty elves would aid them? Could they not handle it on their own?
"Show them into my tent", he said and walking back. He could feel a bad mood coming, and he had little doubt why. He was looking forward at meeting these elves, and find out who they really were.
[ June 16, 2003: Message edited by: Daniel Telcontar ]
__________________
Two beer or not two beer, that is the question; by Shakesbeer
|