Disclaimer: Tolkien described the battles, PJ visualized them… Kortirion pokes around the edges.
His face was white as the soft, powdered rock he brought forward to the front ranks. He watched them take a handful each to chalk their palms. Hefting the elegantly deadly glaives, motes of talc dusted their armour, misting the sheen of metal and leather. No hand must perspire and slip on this day…
Commands moved them forward, leading him to retire. His first battle, one he must spend in reserve, though they whispered that none were safe, not this day…
Horns sounded, practised hands swivelled their weapons with precision… a deadly, unfurling snake of gleaming blades readied to strike.