Blood soon painted the ground. The trolls were coming in an endless swarm, hacking at the trees and causing them to fall in the path of their companions. Miaed was sickened, though she knew that it must be so. The trolls must be stopped.
For most of the battle she had worked through the armies, working to the tall caped man. Obviously, he was the leader, giving orders and directing the trolls. What was he? A man? An elf? A ghost or spirit of some kind?
If he was one of those, she could see no resemblence from her point of view at that moment. As she was pondering and fighting and despearing, a great battle cry brought her thoughts back to the battle. A griffon, golden and brown, though covered in blood, flew close to the ground, panting.
"The elves! Miaed, the elves!" he cried. "I see them! The entire elven army, and behind them I think I see the men, and the dwarves, and the animals, and, and, and..,."
Exausted, he dropped from the sky and landed sofly in Miaed's branches. She handed him to the care of another tree, and worked still harder to reach the tall figure.
The first rays of sun were peaping over the horizon, lighting the blood on the ground, and giving the faces of the armies a ghastly hue of scarlet.
The, the,... thing, creature, had noticed Miaed and gave her a chilling grimace of a smile. A strong guard of trolls surounded him, and he walked, so casually, to meet the guardian of the Grove Of Light.
His voice was as terible as his smile as he said, "Those are not your allies that approach. They are mine."