The Threat of the Trees: RPG

[Brinniel]

Calentoliel froze in place as her dark eyes fixed upon Endereth’s broken body. Her heart dropped three feet and her stomach felt as if it had been punched with an iron fist. Calentoliel could see the many arrows protruding from Ender’s chest and knew she was fading.

Before any more doubt could take her, the elf ran to her friend’s side.
“Endereth!” she cried out in fear.
Ender’s eyes flickered a moment before opening. “Calentoliel,” she replied, squinting up at the other elf as she faltered a smile. Tears streamed down her dirty face and a froth of blood covered her bottom lip as she opened her mouth once more. “I feel so….cold.” Endereth’s voice wavered as she spoke. She blinked a couple more times, and then her eyes fixed, gazing blankly at Calentoliel.

The elf could hold back no more. She let go a sob as streams of tears fell from her face. Endereth was the one from the group she had known longest. It was she whom Calentoliel first met on her adventure in the Blue Mountains. Aside from Rothalle, Ender had been her closest friend. The two shared a connection that Calentoliel could not explain. And the elf could not understand how this connection could suddenly be gone. She felt as if a part of her had been stolen away. Over the many years, Calentoliel had seen several pass into the shadow, but never did she imagine she would have to see the same for her best friend, another elf. Grief mixed with confusion overwhelmed her, and for several moments Calentoliel was left weeping uncontrollably for her dead friend. She did not stop nor pay heed to her surroundings until she felt the hand of Mattius press down gently on her shoulder.
“Endereth will find her way to the Halls of Mandos,” he consoled. “There she will be reunited with her long departed friends.”

Calentoliel was distracted when she heard another grief-stricken cry. In the corner of her eye, she could see that another companion had fallen; Anarya, the young blacksmith who was always so determined. Others sat by her corpse and grieved for her passing.

Mattius’s grip on her shoulder tightened, and from that Calentoliel was able to find enough strength to pull herself back together. Brushing away her tears, she closed her eyes and began to sing softly in her own language. As she sang, it grew dark and the company could feel raindrops fall through the dense forest. Calentoliel continued to sing for several minutes before her voice faltered. It wasn’t until then that the rain ceased and all was silent.

Mattius’s hand left Calentoliel’s shoulder.
"Hiro îth ab 'wanath," he whispered. “May they find peace after death.”
Calentoliel nodded at his words as she stood up. “Namarië, Endereth Naurelyr,” she spoke, barely audible. “May you be happier in the Halls of Mandos than you ever were in Middle-earth.” Calentoliel then turned away and never again did she look upon the fair face of her friend.