The Enkarēin

Chapter 1

Chapter 1
The Ruin of Eldrithèm

2933 TA. February 18th.
West. Eriador.
The Blue Mountains. The Forests of Ered Lindon.
The Kingdom of Eldrithèm

"Hold your ground, do not suffer them to pass!" King Riwal Slengebor commanded.

The battle admits enkarēin and orc raged on, neither side of the mind to yield. Alas, numerous lives were lost as the humble kingdom and its immortal beings were besieged in the night, unaware and unprepared they were; without provocation and without warning the orc incursion befell them.

Upon the staircases they rose like a black flood, threatening to drown many of the enkarēin warriors. Despite the considerable loss of life, the orc endowment lay not in brute strength as King Riwal's men, yet vast numbers. Tediously they cut them down, their blades driving through the bodies of the fell beasts. Carcases lay splayed amidst the walkways, scarcely bringing them to a crawl. Both races forged ahead, coming together in a vicious clash.

From above the treetops rung out a blood-curdling scream. King Riwal's Queen. His head snapped in the direction of his wife's grave cries, "Esola... my love!" He gasped. Turning from the battle, he flew across the platform or "High-Pass'' and to The Kings Tree. His breathing ragged, and his heart hammered wildly in his chest, as he held fiercely to the hope that he would reach her in time.

To the tree he came, he climbed, and he climbed, his feet scarcely touching down upon the wooden steps. The love for his family came to be his driving force, bestowing to the king a surge of great speed.

"Eru le do thoil, coinnigh slán mo pháistí agus mo bhean chéile!" ﴾please Eru, keep safe my children and wife﴿ He implored breathlessly.

Therein what seemed an aeon, he stood upon the threshold of his bedchambers. His hands wrenched tightly the handles of the doors, alas no amount of struggling availed to Riwal. They were barred. Once more, from deep within the walls of the king's chambers, came the cries of his queen.

Hellbent he was upon entering the room, growing increasingly embittered with his futile attempts to gain entry. He planted one foot upon the ground, grasped the door frame, and thrust his other foot forward with all the might he could muster. He slammed it into the door with a thunderous yell... hoping to unhinge the door from its frame. The door gave, yet only slightly.

"Damn enquioa wood!" He cursed beneath his breath.

Once more he dispatched a swift kick, and another, and thrice again... at long last he was rewarded for his unyielding efforts with the downfall of the door. Upon entering the room he found himself face to face with his afflicted wife, and two fell orcs.

Esola was stiffened into a corner, forbidden any chance to flee. Her gaze briefly broke free from the horrid beasts that held her at bay, and fell upon her husband, relaying a desperate, horrified plea for aid.

"Riwal!" she cried.

The king took up his sword and, with a thunderous cry, he drove his sword deep into the spine of one orc. With the tip of his blade protruding forth from its chest, a plume of ebony blood spurted throughout.

Regrettably, the king had left himself exposed, focusing his efforts upon the now deceased orc. The latter let out a shrill screech before plunging its ugly dagger into the king's right side.

"Riwal," Esola cried, her hands violently quaking as she brought them amidst her lips in horror.

The king gnashed his teeth. His eyes welled shut as he endured excruciating, mind-numbing pain. Adrenaline surged through his veins as the unbridled instinct to survive set in. He reached behind, forcibly tearing the weapon from his form. He let out a strangled growl in pain. Turning on his heels, he drove the same dagger in between the eyes of the last remaining orc. The creature fell to the ground, joining the other. The chamber, forthwith, was safe.