[center][h3][color=0054a6]The Children of Artemon[/color][/h3][/center]

X) Panic and grief gripped Celebrimbor. They had tried to stand tall against the orcs and been broken. Their friends and family slaughtered at the hands of the orcs, their bodies devoured. They had made their bet and lost. In a helpless atmosphere it was as though they awaited death.

But death never came. The orcs had gone home and the elves would have to look to their future once again. It was Theldaneth they had put their faith in and he had brought this disaster on them. He had failed them. He was himself very distraught at his failure and before the crowd he stood powerless. He had neither the will nor the ability to sway them. He was loudly and publicly dethroned and denounced, no longer would any elf heed his council. Once their budding leader he was now relegated to disgraced obscurity.

The fear of the orcs still ran high, no one desired to risk being butchered like their countrymen had been. Flight was brought up. Many among them were anguished at the thought of leaving what they had accomplished behind. In this wealthy land they had fertile earth, bounties of silver and amber, they had all they could have wished for were it not for the dreaded greenskins. However no amount of wealth was worth the loss of all their lives. Theirs was not a god of war or vengeance nor was war their trade. It was decided that the settlement would be dismantled and they would take whatever they could carry by cart and by hand and set out west, in search of greener pastures, further removed from the orc menace.

They walked nervous and scared, it might be said that they spent more time looking over their shoulders than they did looking forward. Under the watchful eyes of the elf-at-arms that still remained they hoped that they would find safety soon. 

Every night they prayed for deliverance from their perilous journey.


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Flee west
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