Disclaimer: Tolkien made this shine – Kortirion leaps from the pavement with a squeegee and bucket!
Agony, blood, shrieks of pain surrounded me. These I could ignore. It is my function to cleave through hot flesh, releasing their fea to whatever fate awaits them. I have no pity, it is not my nature. Among the stench and dirt I sang - then, was shattered utterly. Not lost, no, but extinguished; they gathered my splintered remains, bearing me away with reverence.
Through white-heat, fire and sweat I am renewed, reborn, re-named... I flame anew!
Keen, if not keener, I shine, sing - eager to dance grasped again by strong hands.
Heirloom from king, to King
I Am Anduril!