This place is like nothing he's ever seen before, barring the horrors of Isengard and Mordor. The new clothing fits strangely and feels even stranger, like material twisted beyond its limits. Legolas feels naked without his bow, but going near the Cornucopia seems suicidal, so he opts to run in the other direction like many of the other prisoners here.

He'd take the spiders of Mirkwood any day over this.

Dashing around one of the crumbling ticket booths, the elf pries up one of the larger boards and tucks it against his side. While the wood is laughable as a proper weapon, it should do as a makeshift shield until he can find something else. For now, it's best to find higher ground and a better vantage point, and hope he doesn't have to use the board in self defense.