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Seeking to secure his claim to what lay within its halls, King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm marched his army of Elven warriors to the Lonely Mountain. Assembling before the gates of the underground kingdom of Erebor, Thranduil’s force was a sight to steal the breath of men: more than enough, he deemed, to strike fear in the hearts of the Dwarves within who dared withhold the King’s jewels.
Arrayed in perfect lines, the great host gleamed gold beneath a pale sun. Gloved hands gripped tall spears, shields were strapped to their arms, and curved blades hung hungry upon their belts. Shading icy, hawk-sharp eyes, the Elves of Mirkwood wore tight-fitting, golden helms with sweeping, bladed crests and cheek guards intricately styled after the curling, barbed thorns and vines of their forest home.
Please note: images are of a pre-production prototype. Each sculpture is hand painted and minor variations will occur.
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