(Archive) Azrubel Chronicles Part 7: A Brazen Attack

Krisorn comes limping towards the commanders office, his face grim and set. His right leg is obviously bandaged and his uniform pants have a neat gash right near the bandage itself. Other blood can be see on his shield as well and Krisorn\'s eyes could nearly set fire to the buildings around him as he stalks towards the commanders office.

[Kadareth(#28938)] Kadareth comes down from the upper tiers of the city, striding out of the gate with a resounding thump. He can\'t help yawning, as he just got up and is now on his shift to guard the streets of Minas Tirith. \"Evening!\" he greets Krisorn on meeting the injured man-at-arms. \"I heard about the incident at the market. I don\'t know what this city is coming to, honestly I don\'t.\" He nods gloomily.

Rowen turns as he hears footsteps approaching the commander\'s office. The young guard has a bandage about his leg, and has a crutch tucked under one arm. He takes only a minute to identify Krisorn, then salutes. \"Ahhh, It is good to see that you are well. I was only released from the the healers today, and they had not told be about your condition.\"

[Doloran(#7634)] Following shortly after Krisorn, a young guard walks with his right hand holding the back of his head. From time to time, you can hear him saying to himself, \"I was so close, so close to him.\" Approaching the other guards, he nods slightly. Recognizing Rowen, he walks toward him, \"I\'m sorry Rowen, I failed pitifully. I\'m good at nothing. And now these scums are still running.\"

Krisorn nods to the other two guards as he continues towards the commanders office, \"It is good to see you both. I know who is responsible but nothing has been done as yet and I wish to find out if the commander plans to do anything about those two scum.\" Krisorn\'s expression softens hearing Doloran\'s voice, \"Lad, You\'ve got time to learn and in truth Zistiran would have made short work of you. I\'m the one who let him get away. Though not for much longer. He\'ll learn soon enough that I\'m not an easy foe to escape.\"

[Kadareth(#28938)] Kadareth notices the street crowded with guards, \"Hello, friends!\" he waves at them. \"I was going to talk to Commander Galdorim before I started my shift. Any news of him?\" Kadareth\'s question holds a hint of concern.

[Faengor(#18480)] The soft echoes of lonely bootsteps come from the gate. Out of the shadows a lone guard aproaches, a small parchement in his hands. Slowly the guard aproaches and soon his noble visage apears trough the shadows. Noticing the gathering the guard fastens his pace. With worried steps he hurries himself, almost running. \"H - ... has something happened to the commander?\" Faengor then stammers upon reaching the group

Doloran nods silently to Rowen\'s last words, lowering his head. Then, he returns the salute to Kadareth, \"Good evening, but you should not call me a friend, because with a friend like me, you don\'t need any ennemy\". Saying that, he shakes his head, still holding it with his hand. \"We should see our commander\", he finaly says, looking to Krisorn.

Krisorn scowls softly and his eyes soften slightly, \"The lady died. We were unable to save her and that as much as anything will be another mark Zistiran owe\'s me. Come, the Commander is as well as he can be though I fear this news will hit him hard. We can not condone criminal\'s within the guard though. I fear we have let the Haradrim have too free a hand for too long. Too many Guardsmen have forgotten their oaths. It was time they were reminded of them.\" Krisorn\'s face tightens as he continues, \"Forcibly if necessary and I will be forcible on this issue.\"

[Azrubel(#29017)]

\"Indeed, let us see your Commander!\"

Courteous and clear, the voice drifts lazily from the shadows by the Guards -- and the darkness stirs. Forth it flows, and the night is given form. Thither stands a tall man cloaked in ebony, and with raised hood.

[Kadareth(#28938)] \"Let us then,\" Kadareth agrees. He raises his gloved hand and knocks three times on the door. \"Commander? It is Private Kadareth!\" he shouts so his voice can be heard across the thick oaken door of Galdorim\'s office.

Rowen starts as he sees the figure flow from the darkness where there was nothing but a moment before. He blinks once and then summons up his voice, its not often he sees a shapre like that appear from \"And who are you sir? Identify yourself.\" He raises his hand to quiet Kadareth and gllances down at the hilt of his blade. The events of the last few days have left a impression on the young guard.

[Galdorim(#22020)] From inside the office, a deep yet hoarse voice calls out. \"Enter!\"

[Faengor(#18480)] Quickly the young guardsman jumps forward and silences Rowen, putting his hand on the hilt of Rowen\'s blade. \"Forgive him good sir\", Faengor speaks. Quickly he makes a bow and turns to Rowen giving him a sign to stay calm.

[Kadareth(#28938)] Kadareth starts and spins on his feet, black cape flowing and hand laid upon the hilt of his sword. \"Who is there?\" he demands harshly, echoing Rowen. His deep blue eyes spark fiercely and he grinds his teeth together. He steps forward, slightly unsheathing the sword so an inch of blade flashes in the pale moon light. Faengor\'s intervention halts him, and he frowns as he says, \"I\'m sorry, we have all been on edge since the past few days. Not even the guard is safe.\"

[Azrubel(#29017)]

Heedless of the youthful Guard\'s wariness the cloaked one seems to be -- to their arms, he pays not a single glance. And he inclines his head to Faengor, dismissing the matter with a wave of his hand.

\"No matter -- come, your Commander calls you now!\"

And with swirling cloak and rapid stride, he is by the door...and beyond.

Krisorn looks over at a Azrubel and then turns back to the Commander\'s door, pulling open the door and entering, leaving this new stranger to the younger folks, for his duties lie with the Commander. He limps into the door of the commanders office.

Rowen quick opens the door to the office and hobbles in as swiftly as he can with a crutch under his arm. He looks first to the commander, then lets his eyes sweep over the room, searcing for the dark shape that swept into the office before him.

[Faengor(#18480)] Seeing the case as dismissed Faengor turns around and enters the office, a stern visage. With quick shreds he walks to the back of the office blending in with the darkness to await his turn.

[Doloran(#7634)] Entering the Commander\'s office, Doloran stays behind his elder companions near the door, standing still and observing the scene.

[Kadareth(#28938)] Private Kadareth steps into the crowded office. He removes his helmet, holding it by his side in the left hand and salutes his commander briskly, \"Good evening, sir!\" His countenance is rigid, and his blue eyes stare fixedly at the opposite wall.

[Galdorim(#22020)] The office of the Sun Gate is hot and humid. The air is permiated with a sickening stench of brewing herbs in the small hearth. The air is heavy and it stings the eyes slightly as well as hard on the lungs.

Seated at his desk is Commander Galdorim. He looks towards the door as he waits for Kadareth\'s entery and looks slightly surprised at the rush of people coming into his office. His blood-shot eyes look to Krisorn and Rowen as they limp in, and then to the rest. His deep voice croaks out. \"I take it some of you are reporting about the other night.\" He looks tot he other questioningly. \"What are the rest of you here for?\"

Faengor steps out of the darkness for the second as he takes of his helm and performs a bow. \"good evening commander, I have reports for the gate,\" he salutes, and after a few seconds of silence he adds on, \"but with your permission sir, I\'d like to make my reports last, ... they\'re not as urgent.\"

[Kadareth(#28938)] The man-at-arms finds it hard to concentrate on a serious posture with the unbidden visitors around him. Still he keeps staring straight ahead and lets only the corner of his lips curl up in a grin at the awkward situation.

[Azrubel(#29017)]

\"By the One -- what a stench!\" and with a grimace of distaste, the cloaked one casts a brief glance to the hearth.

And upon the seated man his gaze falls then, and he steps forth -- gracefully he bows, \"The famed Commander Galdorim! I bear a message for you this night, from one who knows you well indeed.\"

Krisorn scowls, as much from his wound as from sheer annoyance, and then nods, \"Aye Commander. I\'ve come to report on the attack that happened the other night. Though I am interested in hearing this others message.\"

Rowen lately raises his hand to salute the commander, then tucks it back down by his side, his eyes remaining with the cloaked figure. He stands very quietly, listening to his commanding officers, and even the men who would be his peers, trying to pick up as much as possible.

[Galdorim(#22020)] The air lightens some as the door lets out most of the \'healing\' aromas. Galdorim gives one general salute back to the the saluting masses and then looks to Azrubel. \"This stench is supposed to aid in my recovery.\" He grumbles with discontent. \"Please do indentify yourself and who you bear a message from.\" He holds up his hands tot he others while he takes care of this messenger.

Krisorn watches this stranger closely, his interest evident for as long as he has been around Galdorim, and even the guard, the man\'s features don\'t seem familiar. He shrugs slightly but intently.

Faengor takes a few steps back, not feeling comfortable with all these people.

[Doloran(#7634)] Keeping the pose near the door, Doloran\'s eyes moves from the commander to the messenger. From time to time, he raises his hand to rub his sore neck.

[Azrubel(#29017)]

And the cloak is cast back.

Raven hair and eyes grey as the sea, tunic of the purest alabaster such that it seems to cast a radiance around him, here is one in whom the blood of Numenor runs true.

Gravely now he speaks, his gaze intent upon the Commander, \"My name is of no import. Know merely that you bring upon yourself the wrath of one who would be a most terrible foe. For this reason I have been sent, to tell you to delve no further into matters which do not concern you. Surely\", and he casts a flickering glance to the others, \"your men have learned this lesson already.\" And somber though he may be, in his eyes sparkles...

...mirth?

[Kadareth(#28938)] Meanwhile, Kadareth\'s gaze shifts towards the cloaked messenger. He adjusts his cloak so the sword doesn\'t get entangled should there be a need to unsheathe it on an emergency. When the stranger casts away his cloak, he steps sideways and his hand lands on the sword as if by instinct. However, listening to him, he stops and slightly tilts his head, raising a suspicious eyebrow, \"Excuse me. And *who* exactly sent you?\" he asks.

[Faengor(#18480)] Seemingly unnoticable the young messenger moves to the door, showing no fear or anger. His right hand moves to the hilt of his blade, but he does not draw it yet. His eyes shift to those of the commander, waiting for his reaction, not impressed by this performance and asuming the same of his commander.

Rowen starts at the sight of the hair as black as the night, and the noble aura he casts forth. He seems ready to speak, yet no sound rises from his throat, he finaly gasps, \"Commander..We can not give up in this matter as this man says. We protect this land, it is our duty to not give in.\"

[Galdorim(#22020)] Slowly rising to his feet, the tall pale Commander looks to the messenger of threats. His eyes show the wrath that is brewing insie him. \"You dare come into my office, surrounded by the guard of Minas Tirith, and threaten me?!\" He glances to the guard in his office and holds a yealding hand to them. \"Your identity has just became important. You WILL tell me who you are a nd who you represen!\"

[Kadareth(#28938)] Kadareth\'s hand, which was merely resting upon the leather-wrapped hilt of the sword, is now ensnaring it in a tight grasp. \"Who sent you with such vile offer, I ask!\" he thunders.

Krisorn smiles softly, though there is no mirth in that smile. Rather the feral grin of wolves looking upon a prey he had not seen in some time, is a more apt image that comes to mind, wounded even as Krisorn is. \"Really. Mayhap we have stumbled upon something more than we thought. Though it had appeared that way already. Commander, the men that we had encountered this night past were Guardsmen themselves, and they hinted that there was more going on here than seemed. I would know who my foe is and unless their works and motives be of the purest linen I care not how fell they be as an enemy.\"

[Azrubel(#29017)]

A faint sigh, and Azrubel\'s gaze sweeps over those gathered in the chamber lingering for long moments in each. And in the end when he speaks, a great despair is upon him, \"Alas that such valiant men should fall thus into folly. Come, I give you one more chance to answer truly!\"

[Faengor(#18480)] Suddenly Faengor\'s powerfull voice ripples trough the office, \"What I don\'t understand,\"he speaks, \"is that a numoran of such high blood would actually involve himself with these petty thugs.\" Faengor raises himself in full length as he removes his hand from the hilt of his sword. His eyes peer upon the messenger, not quite knowing what he is seeing. \"Are you a fraud, or is the commander indeed handling with more than we first thought?\"

[Kadareth(#28938)] \"By the Powers, either you give us the answers now or we will not grant you the blessing of death until you start speaking some names!\" Kadareth shouts, and struts sideways until he is standing between the messenger and the door. He briefly glances at Rowen, and then nods at the small window of the office.

[Azrubel(#29017)]

\"Silence, young ones!\" and Azrubel raises a hand. \"Do you not know that is folly to speak in the counsels of those wiser than you?\"

And even though he speaks calmly, there is in his voice a note of stern command that few indeed may withstand.

[Doloran(#7634)] Hearing the guard\'s words and Azrubel\'s reply, Doloran\'s eyebrows raises and his eyes widden. The young private looks like someone who doesn\'t understand what is going on. Seeing the other guards moving their hands to the hilt of their swords, he suddenly looks more nervous and remaining silent, he slowly steps closer to the entrance, blocking the way out near Kadareth\'s side.

Krisorn smiles softly, \"Nay Kadareth, calm thyself.\" Krisorn turns to Azrubel, \"Tell me sir, we have given you a chance to answer honorably and truthfully. Give us a reason why we should back off for even one who\'s blood is as pure as your can too easily be involved in the designs of the dark one, and it does seem indeed that such designs are involved here.\" Krisorns words are light though his tone as commanding, if less polished, as Azrubel\'s.

Rowen moves quickly to block the window, but makes no further agressive movements. He leans heavily on his crutch as he speaks, \"My freinds, we do not yet know much about this man. Let us not condem him yet.\" Rowen grits his teeth at his own words, maybe wishing he had not said them.

Galdorim \'s sunken eyes flash with fiery anger. \"Your...offer..Is duely rejected, agent of darkness!\" He steps out from his desk and pulls himself to his full height. \"I will get to the root of this corruption with in the guard that I Command. The agents that you have will be found and exectted when the Steward is finished with him!\" He glances at his men and snarls a harsh order. \"Shelth your weapons, till I order this man taken. He is here to talk, so I will let him.\"

[Kadareth(#28938)] Kadareth\'s eyes narrow. His grasp around the hilt of the blade laxes and he waits silently, never for a moment letting his gaze drift from the dark messenger\'s figure.

Faengor nods calmly and removes his hand from the hilt of his sword. His visage is stern and seriousness, and even as he is leaned at the door with crossed arms he surveys the room with calm eyes doubting the fact that the agent will use violence.

[Azrubel(#29017)]

\"Talk?\" and with arched brow and veiled gaze the tall one regards Galdorim, \"I fear there is naught left to speak of\" -- and to the others, he pays no heed. \"I will bear your answer to the one who has sent me, Commander.\"

And he smiles then -- sudden and fleeting, and laughter blazes high in his eyes, \"And then I will return, for so he will bid me do...and you may well rue your choice when that comes to pass!\"

[Kadareth(#28938)] Kadareth shifts uneasily from foot to foot, waiting for Galdorim\'s command. Without even noticing, his sword has leapt halfway out of its sheathe.

The sound of stone against blade rings out cutting through the laughter. It seems that Krisorn has taken the time to pull forth a whetstone and the edge of his blade seems to sing as he works it. \"I will await your return minion. And I shall deal with you as I have everything I have found with a rotted trunk. I shall bring you down low and used as mulch so that some good can come from your carcass. And you will be no harder than any oak I have ever dealt with, and no less tricky.\"

[Kadareth(#28938)] \"You seem too confident upon your return! Have you considered your means of egres . . . sir?\" Kadareth growls.

Rowen waits by the window, watching the messenger with intent eyes, and waiting for the command of Galdorim.

[Galdorim(#22020)] Moves so he is infront of the vile messenger. \"Bear you message back to your master? I beleive your interigation and execution will be a fitting message to your master for I have not finished with you.\" His blood-shot eyes look Azrubel over with a hatefilled look. \"One of such high blood has falledn so low to be a minion of such dishonor.\"

Faengor remains at the door ever vigilant, but his nerves start to knack as he is becoming less sure of himself. Maybe this man is more powerfull than we think ...

[Azrubel(#29017)]

\"Why, I mean to walk out through the door, good Kadareth...unless\", and Azrubel\'s eyes turn swiftly to the one who sharpens his axe, even as one struck by a sudden thought, \"Could it be...that you mean to stop me?\"

And he turns then to Galdorim as the ailing man speaks, and his cry rings loudly in the silence of the night, \"By the One, it would seem you indeed seek to stay me!\"

And the laughter in his eyes ever grows.

Rowen now stesp foreward into the room for the first time, anger growing deep in the grey wells of his eyes. Now his hand follows his fellow\'s to the handle of his sword. He speaks with as much menace as he can gather, \"Why is it that we could not stop you from leaving this room? You are mearly a mortal.\"

[Kadareth(#28938)] The man-at-arms gulps almost inaudibly at the visitor\'s excessive confidence. \"You do you serve, fiend?\" he shouts harshly, but a hint of nervousness taints his tone. Nevertheless he steps forward, fully unsheathing the sword. \"I just need you command, sir!\" he tells Galdorim, without losing the fallen Numenorian from sight.

Doloran waits by the door, watching the scene nervously. Without moving the head, he whispers in a trembling voice to Faengor who is standing near him, \"It\'s not looking good, not good at all.\"

[Azrubel(#29017)]

\"Mortal indeed, as any other\", and the dark one speaks gently, and might one to a child, \"yet, far beyond the likes of you, I deem!\"

Faengor gulps at Rowen\'s word, his fear growing with every minute that he shares with this man. \"Don\'t say that Rowen\" Faengor hushes. Again Faengor stretches himself drawing his sword but letting it rest next to him. Bending his head towards Doloran he whispers in reply, \"indeed, ... I fear for the worst.\"

[Kadareth(#28938)] \"WHO . . . SENT . . . YOU?\" Kadareth demands, nervousness barely disguised as rage taking the reins. \"Sir!\" he asks anxiously of Commander Galdorim, \"Your order, sir!\" and takes one more step forward.

Galdorim \'s large pale hands reach for his axe, but he then doubles over in a fit a deep chesty coughes which leave him gasping for breathe. He staggers back slightly as his other hand goes to his chest. He brings a clothe to his mouth and wipes some blood that he has hacked up to stain his colorless lips.

Krisorn shrugs slightly and says, \"Beyond us, below us, or above us. You\'ll still answer for yourself. Doloran, go and call out first and second squad to stand guardoutside and then return here. Also call for a healer for the Commander.\" Krisorn looks at Galdorim with concern and then turns back to Azrubel, \"Sir, I care not if you are HIM in the flesh. I suggest you answer our questions for you will not be leaving.\"

[Azrubel(#29017)]

\"Ah, you are sorely ill, Commander\", and Azrubel lays a hand upon Galdorim\'s shoulder, \"The leeches in the Houses of Healing have great skill. Perhaps they will aid you.\"

And turning, he inclines his head to Krisorn, \"Come, Doloron -- I shall aid you in summoning the Guard companies!\"

[Faengor(#18480)] Worried Faengor runs over to Galdorim, not realizing that he is letting the door behind him wide open for the stranger. Casting his sword aside Faengor kneels next to the commander. \"Sir are you alright?\" he speaks worriedly. For a second his gaze turns back to the stranger, worried now that the commander is defenseless.

[Kadareth(#28938)] Kadareth is amazed at the messenger\'s reply. \"What? You are going nowhere, sir!\" he speaks at him, a notch uncertainly. \"Someone summon a healer,\" he adds to the guards behind him.

Doloran nods quickly to Krisorn, \"Aye, sir!\" He looks eager to leave the room and its heavy atmosphere. He turns to the open door, seeming not to hear Azrubel, running outside as fast as he can.

Rowen grips the handle of his sword tightly, and steps in front of the path of the stranger, baring his way to the door. \"If you have done this to our commander, then I swear you will hang as well. If you have not, if you are innocent, then answer who sent you here.\" Rowen tries to stand tall before the stranger, who still towers above him.

Krisorn steps towards Azrubel and says softly, \"Sit messager-without-a-name.\" Krisorns body more than anything else in front of Azrubel, \"For even should the commander not be able to ask you any questions I still have my own to ask and answers to recieve for him. And I also suggest you keep your hands, and any other gifts, \"Krisorn loads the word with scorn as he continues, \"away from the Commander for now.\" Krisorn, while not fearless of the man before him, is also not afraid of him, at least not visibly so, anger at the very least is much stronger.

Faengor continues to take care of the commander trying to make sure of his health. \"Hang on there commander\" he speaks and then he turns around to look at Rowen for a second, \"He was poisoned Rowen, this has nothing to do with the messenger ... or atleast not directly ... I think\"

[Kadareth(#28938)] Kadareth jerks his left hand in the direction of Azrubel, trying to clutch his shoulder, while holding high the sword in the other hand, \"Sir, don\'t make it any harder on yourself! Give us our answers and no one will be hurt,\" he attempts a calmer tone to convince the messenger.

[Azrubel(#29017)]

Halting, with his arms crossed over his chest the man stands, his gaze thoughtful and still upon those who stand before the door, \"Do you then mean to hold me against my will?\"

Galdorim brings his hand up to knock the hand places on his shoulder. \"Do not tou..\" He then starts to break out into a fit of racking coucghs again. He staggers further back and leans against a wall as he tries to recover.

Rowen suddenly seems to forget the stranger, and moves with haste to the side of the commander, extending his hand to steady him. Worry lines the young gaurds face as he looks over his commander, \"Sir, you need to see a healer. Forget this man for now.\" He turns his head to make sure the messenger is still there.

[Kadareth(#28938)] \"Forget this man we shall not!\" Kadareth\'s thunderous voice echoes in the damp, spicy air of the room. \"No one enters this city bearing warnings of foulness such as yours and leaves as if nothing had happened. I don\'t want to shed the blood of an unarmed messenger, but your daring leaves me no choice!\"

He hesitates and grabs the man\'s arm to restrain him, but carefully enough to let go at the unsheathing of a concealed weapon. (repose for Krisorn)

Faengor noticing Rowen turns his attention to him. \"There is little Daeren can do now Rowen, nor can anyone I think\" Faengor speaks and immediatly after having spoken he turns back to Galdorim. he grabs a silken handkerchief out of his backpocket with the symbol of the White tree embroidered in it. \"Here commander\" he speaks as he wipes the sweat of the commander\'s foreface.

[Doloran(#7634)] Many running footsteps can be heared from outside, coming in the Commander\'s office direction. Young private Doloran, shortly followed by a civilian, rushes inside the room and stops near the door as he begins to speak, \"I\'ve done as you said, Krisorn. The other guards are ready outside\" Turning to Galdorim, he continues \"Here is the healer, commander.\" He then turns to Faengor, motioning to the commander, \"How is he?\"

[Azrubel(#29017)]

Swift as thought -- swift as the west wind from the sundering seas -- the man steps back, and a naked blade glitters in his hand. And it rises to rest lightly against Kadareth\'s arm, \"Gently, gently, young one -- have a care!\"

Krisorn doesn\'t turn away from Azrubel as the healer enters and he see\'s the blade drawn and laid bare, his smile turns feral and he says softly, \"See to the commander healer. But do not leave. I fear your help may be needed again soon.\" To Azrubel he speaks, his voice soft and silken but steel lies below that, \"Put down your weapon messenger and submit. You can not escape.\"

[Kadareth(#28938)] Kadareth\'s hand lashes away from the messenger, as if the glittery sight of a dagger stung like hot embers in his palm. Kadareth steps back and holds his sword in front of Azrubel, \"Unarmed man you are not! Commander!\" his face briefly turns to Galdorim, \"Give the order, I beg you!\"

Rowen rises quickly from the side of the commander, calling out to the others in a voice near panic, \"Be on your guard! He bears steel!\" Rowen\'s owen blade flashes from its scabbard, and he throws down his crutch, so as it will not hinder him. He keeps himself between Azrubel and the commander, standing like a boulder guarding a treasure.

[Galdorim(#22020)] Dearen, the healer, looks to the messenger and then to the hacking Galdorim. He goes to his side and kneels down by the aling Commander. He whispers softly to him. \"You have not been coming to my session , Commander. I told you that you need to come everyday.\" He looks to the guards around the Commander. \"Give me Some room!\"

[Azrubel(#29017)]

\"A wager then\", and surely, the mirth must spill forth now -- brightly it sparkles in those grey eyes, and the very chamber seems to resound with it.

Yet, he does not laugh -- grave and calm he stands, and the blade dips to touch the axe Krisorn bear, \"A florin to you if I fail. And one to me if I do not!\"

Faengor raises himself again, grabbing his sword from the ground in the progress taking a few steps for the healer to pass. For a minute his attention turns towards him, his eyes in a narrow glare but quickly they lighten up. \"he\'s coughing up blood again\" Faengor speaks in a monotonous tone before turning back to the messenger. \"I doubt if we should question the messenger now, ... but I doubt that we are able to lock him up either.\" Then he moves behind Daeren protecting him.

Krisorn smiles softly and says, \"Wagers I may do off duty. Not here within the guard itself. But I will gladly wager you a florin that you will not escape here.\"

[Kadareth(#28938)] \"Make that a wager for two,\" Kadareth adds. The blade of his sword draws nearer to Azrubel, but he waits nervously, uncertain whether the first strike should be his.

[Azrubel(#29017)]

\"Then good Krisorn...I shall come to take what is due when you are not on duty -- and if you wish it so Kadareth, then so be it!\" And Azrubel steps forth, with the blade held lightly before him.

And now, the Men of Minas Tirith must step aside -- or take to arms!

[Doloran(#7634)] As he watches the scene from the door, Doloran unsheathes his sword and holds it in front of him, throwing quick glances around him. He is breathing heavily, and it\'s hard to tell if it\'s from nervousness or his recent run in the city.

Krisorn smoothly drops back into a crouch and suddenly his axe is at ready, not merely a tool but a weapon. A fire lights in Krisorn\'s eyes and he says, \"You have been warned. Surrender now fiend for your black master can not protect you here.\"

Faengor narrows his eyes and jumps in front of the messenger. \"No one, is able to surpass the Minas Tirith guard,... neither will you\" Faengor assumes a battle position and prepares himself. \"Doloran, are you sure the office is surrounded?\"

[Combat(#13388)] Faengor Lodogran unsheats Bliskner and clenches it in his right hand.

[Rowen(#28840)] The dim light in the office dances off Rowen\'s blade as he holds it out before him, glittering off his face now slicked with nervous sweat. Perhaps rallied by the brave words of Krisorn, he takes one last look at the commander, then steps foreward toward the dark messenger, \"Let us not spill any blood on the ground this day. Surrender now and do not force a grim battle. For it is our duty to keep this city out of the clutches of evil, and I will follow my duty to my grave if need be.\"

Doloran says, \"It is surrounded by a wall, I would say\", turning to Faengor.\"

[Azrubel(#29017)]

\"A bold claim, lad\" -- and the sword flashes in the wan light -- \"Come, let us test it! For\" -- towards Faengor\'s chest it sweeps -- \"if it is indeed so...\" -- yet it is a light blow, one meant not to maim, but to test.

\"...then Gondor is well served, even against the Est!\"

Azrubel attacks Faengor with his Longsword and mildly wounds him!

[Kadareth(#28938)] \"Enough of this! You will pay for your actions!\" Kadareth growls and lunges his sword forward, aiming at Azrubel\'s left leg.

Kadareth attacks Azrubel with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.

Faengor stares at the messenger grimly but too late does he realize the blow that is coming at him with the speed of an eagle. Faengor takes a few steps back as he lets out a shriek, not out of pain but out of fear. \"You foul denizen of the night!\" Faengor growls as his eyes peer at the messenger with anger. But nevertheless Faengor does not move and doesn\'t make any offensive movements, as if something larger than fear struck him.

Krisorn scowls and then watches Azrubel strike towards Faengor\'s chest, his attack though is unexpected and Krisorn is caught off guard and unable to get in the way, \"Come foulness and engage a veteran not those who are too young to know your tricks.\" Krisorn moves swiftly, avoiding Kadareth\'s movement and hiding his own blades flickering motions behind Kadareth\'s less skilled attack. The axe blade flutters out towards Azrubel\'s neck.

You attack Azrubel with your Axe...

Azrubel dodges your attack.

[Azrubel(#29017)]

A single step back, glittering steel acring through the air, steel ringing upon steel, sparks flying to fade out, or linger like will o\' wisps -- and the blows are turned away.

Unscathed and at his ease, Azrubel stands, breathless laughter in his voice, sword akin to a burning brand in his hand, \"If you wish it so, then so be it! But...\" -- and yet again the blade falls upon Faengor -- and yet again it is meant not to maim or slay -- \"a moment!\"

Azrubel attacks Faengor with his Longsword and mildly wounds him!

Rowen steps in front of the messenger, his eyes now hot with anger, his sword held tightly in his hand. He sinks back into a fighting stance, his mind racing, trying to remeber the motians with which he defeated the warrior of Harad He snarls toward the dark warrior, \"You have drawn the blood of a good man. It must be equaled.\" He quickly stabds his blade toward the upper leg of the villan.

Rowen attacks Azrubel with his Bare Hands, but he misses by a mile.

[Kadareth(#28938)] \"May you burn in the wrath of the Powers, stranger!\" Kadareth groans as Faengor is struck once again by the messenger\'s blade. Without hesitation, Kadareth raises his sword up high and drops it upon the man\'s head.

Kadareth attacks Azrubel with his Longsword, but he misses by an arm\'s length.

Krisorn skirts to Kadareth\'s left and then rushes Azrubel, attempting to crowd him against the wall as Kadareth\'s blade goes wide to Azrubel\'s left. Krisorn uses the axe head instead of the blade this time keeping the weapon in front of him attempting to knock the breath from this foul messager, all his attention focused on his opponent.

You attack Azrubel with your Axe...

Azrubel dodges your attack.

[Faengor(#18480)] Oncemore Faengor Stumbles back and his back lands against the wall with a hard thud. His eyes narrow even more, \"How dare you speak of us here?\" he speaks in rage. Enraged Faengor strikes back, his blade high and his body bare.

Faengor attacks Azrubel with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.

[Doloran(#7634)] Watching the action, almost panicked, the unexperienced Doloran tries to keep his posture near the door, ready to call in other guards if needed.

Galdorim shakes his head as his coughing has subsided. He wipes his bloodied mouth with Faengor\'s silken hankerchef and stands up. Daeren shakes his head. \"Nah, Commander. Stay down and let your faithful guard protect you. You are in no shape to get up!\"

Galdorim shakes his head as he looks at the fight in his office. He looks at his men dancing aorund the messenger and not touching him one.

[Azrubel(#29017)]

Swift and keen, forged in the fires of Minas Tirith with a skill lost to all save the Men of Numenor in these latter days, seeking the blood of the dark one, axe and sword sing their chill song in the chamber.

And they find not flesh, but each other.

For Azrubel is gone. Yet another pace behind he stands -- by the desk now -- and the sigil of the White Tree upon Faengor\'s chest flutters to the ground, cut free with a skill beyond all save a few. And ere it can reach the ground, it is caught upon the messenger\'s blade.

\"A pretty token, is it not?\"

Krisorn finds his foe gone and his eyes widen slightly with surprise, as he spins, finding again Azrubel. He approaches his foe quickly, hoping to keep others away for the moment before his axe springs out in a swing more fitting for chopping down the oaks of his childhood than men, but he seems determined to plant it firmly in this man\'s chest. Krisorn\'s eyes have kindled to a rage, and the trifling wound he received the other night is nothing to his current mind.

You attack Azrubel with your Axe...

Azrubel dodges your attack.

Rowen turns quickly as the messangeris suddenly gone like black smoke on the wind. Rowne desperatly glances around the office for him, his eyes alighting on the man who now stands behind the desk. Rowen curses and begins to move in on him, when something stops him abruptly..The commander struggling to rise to his feet. Rowen cries out toward Galdorim, \"Stay sir! Or this devil will be on you.\"

[Kadareth(#28938)] Frustrated by the lack of success of his attacks, and watching the man uncannily dodge every strike directed at him with preternatural agility, Kadareth feels hesitant to land another blow. And the display of weapon dexterity by the man leaves Kadareth even more ill at ease, as he never faced such talented opponent. Thus, it is with a meek stab that he steps forward to strike the man, and shielding himself from another attack that could well target him.

Kadareth attacks Azrubel with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.

[Faengor(#18480)] Faengor\'s blade prepares to strike again when it suddenly stops lifted high in the sky. his eyes gaze upon his symbol. \"That is impossible..\" he whispers as he drops his blade having lost all strength in his attacks. Slowly his right hand reaches to his right breast where the symbol used to be hoping that it is still there. \"That in impossible,\" he repeats in an even more hushed tone, .. \"except for a Numoran.\" Faengor stumbles back slowly, his eyes showing vivid fear as if he is about to die.

Galdorim looks to Rowen hand frowns slightly. \"Nah, I will not stand by and have my guard fight while I still can wield my axe!\" He slides his axe from his belt and studies the fight briefly. He then strides towards the door to cut off escape. He stands tall and proud as he waits for his opening

[Azrubel(#29017)]

\"By the One!\" and distaste fleets across Azrubel\'s face, \"not thus do we fight in battle!\" For yet again, the blows go astray -- to be met by swift blade, or cleave air.

\"But thus!\" and keen and sudden, the sword flashes towards Krisorn\'s face, a slender sliver of fire and ice -- and yet again, it is meant to draw forth but little blood.

For the dark one seeks not to slay...but to humble.

Azrubel attacks you with his Longsword!...

...and he hits! Ouch!

ARB: You\'ve been injured for 1 hp\'s by Azrubel\'s attack...

...you have 81 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.

Rowen stares at the man for a brief moment, taking in everything about his form, almost noble if not for the powerful stench of evil flowing from his very form. Tightly gripping his sword, he speaks quietly \"What are you..\" Then quickly he lunges foreward and lashes out at Azrubel with his longsword.

Rowen attacks Azrubel with his Longsword, but he misses by an arm\'s length.

Krisorn draws back from the blade though not quickly enough as it flickers across his cheek drawing forth blood, a blood as red as the rage that lies in Krisorn\'s eyes. \"Aye, like snakes and scorpions you fight, to sting one to death for you have not the will nor the power to fight like true men. To stand as a real man would break you for your very core is given over to darkness and within that nothing exists and nothing can be supported by it.\" Krisorn ignores the cut and as his foe stands there he throws his axe back into the fray with his words, first feinting to Azrubel\'s right with the so recently sharpened blade, then shifting the attack upwards attacking instead at the foes sword arm, for an unarmed foe is no danger he believes.

You attack Azrubel with your Axe...

Azrubel dodges your attack.

Galdorim frowns as Azrubel strikes Krisorn. He hefts his axe up and steps in close into fray. His axe glimmer in the firelight. His large arm flex as he sends the axe towards the thigh of the evil messenger. \"Down with you, messenger!\"

Galdorim attacks Azrubel with his Axe, but he misses by a long shot.

[Kadareth(#28938)] Kadareth\'s face shows astonishment, nothing else. His attacks are now dispirited, he cannot feel rage for such mighty adversary. However, he presses on with his attack, dropping his sword in an arch over the messenger\'s head.

Kadareth attacks Azrubel with his Longsword, but he misses by an arm\'s length.

[Faengor(#18480)] Together with Galdorim Faengor marches trying another desperate attack. \"I fear you Numenorean but never will I succumb to you.\" he spits as he lashes out at him with his longsword standing next to Galdorim.

Faengor attacks Azrubel with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.

[Azrubel(#29017)]

\"I am but a messenger, good Rowen\", and his blade rises -- along it\'s length falls the steel of his foes, wielded by doughty men. But steady as if held in fast in stone, the sword remains.

Yet another step back -- ever back -- and Azrubel\'s laughter rings freely, \"By the One Krisorn, your skill with words is greater far than your skill with the axe! But wait...\"

And of a sudden, from without come the harsh cries of men, and the clashing or arms, \"It would seem my friends have come seeking me!\"

Rowen steps back from the swift warrior as he hears the sounds of battle from outside of the office. He shouts toward the other guards, \"Do you hear that fellows? Watch this one. I will see to his freinds.\" He quickly turns and runs toward the door..leaving the window unguarded.

Krisorn smiles softly and says, \"Having faught against those others who serve your fell master I know they have not your skill but then again the Princes of Gondor hold greater skill than I with either words or blade. You can not win in the end so surrender now, while your blood yet still runs warm.\" Krisorn cries angrily as his axe swings out to attempt to spill the blood of this fair message. In truth one can but wonder does his blood run as red as mans or as black as that of dead creatures. Who is this man who has called down these foes upon the guards within the very walls of Minas Tirith!

You attack Azrubel with your Axe...

Azrubel dodges your attack.

Galdorim snarls softly as he misses his blow to Azrubel\'s leg. He quickly brings it up and around in a swift arc towards the shoulder of the foul messenger. He licks the blood form his lips as he concentrates on battling this skilled foe. He call out hoarsely \"Someone call the guards to arms!\"

Galdorim attacks Azrubel with his Axe, but he misses by a handspan.

Faengor looks at the commander questioningly. \"Sir, should I warn the citadel? My steed is outside!\" his sword lowered he awaits the commander\'s reponse

[Doloran(#7634)] Looking at the other guards desperately trying to stop Azrubel, Doloran senses the fear growing in him as he notices all the missed blows from his companions. Hearing the sound of striking swords outside, he shouts to the others, \"Something is happening outside\" Seeing Rowen moving to the door, he rushes out while he shouts, \"Guard this door, Rowen, this man will not escape.\"

[Azrubel(#29017)]

\"Surrender? Nay, not that, good Krisorn. Indeed, never that!\"

And back he steps, the blows warded with ease, a hand rising to unclasp his great cloak and cast it over those before him. And ere a moment has passed, he turns -- and springs forth to the window!

[Kadareth(#28938)] Kadareth steps back for a while. \"This is not possible, this is not possible,\" he mumbles to himself, transfixed at the man dodging *every* attack made by five guards of the city and still being able to deliver his own precise strikes. \"WHO ARE YOU?\" he cries out. \"*WHAT* ARE YOU?\" he rephrases after a brief pause.

Krisorn ducks under the cloaks enfolding edges and seeing his foe fly to the window, far faster than he could ever follow him he swears and then brings back his and casts forth his axe, end over end, at his foes retreating back, though the motion is as likely to strike the sill of as it is to gain his enemy. Yet Krisorn\'s hand flies anyway as though hoping to draw something from this quick and savage foe.

You throw your axe at Azrubel...

Your axe flies wide of Azrubel, doing no harm.

Your weapon lies now upon the ground at his feet.

Faengor stands and makes no move, as if nailed to the ground. \"but a messenger ...\" he whispers to himself. Lodogran\'s gaze is fixed on the numenorean, \"but how?\" he questions.

Galdorim lowers his axe as he sees Azrubel depart. He looks to Feangor breathlessly. \"Messengers can be in many forms, Faengor. This one had to be good enough to walk into my office filled with guards and tell his demands and depart.\"

[Azrubel(#29017)]

Past Azrubel\'s shoulder the axe whistles, to strike the wall -- but he pays it little heed. Through the window he leaps -- through the window into the shadows beyond, whence the bards of later ages might say he was sprung.

And all that remains to mark his passing is his voice drifting upon the wind, \"A florin, good Krisorn...\"

And laughter.

Faengor turns his attention to Galdorim lowering his sword and putting it back in his sheat. \"What evil awaits us?\" he questions Galdorim expcting him to know the full story. \"No mere gang of thugs would be able to hire the services of such a man?\"

Krisorn moves to his axe, embedded deeply in the window sill and his voice floats out after Azrubel\'s, \"A florin messenger. And a gladly though I am hopeful it shall not be the same when next we meet fiend.\"

Rowen throws open the door and lunges out of the office, looking in vain for the shape of the fleeing messenger. With a curse, Rowen falls to his knees as he looks over the courtyard, \"By all the Valars that rule over us..Something dark has been brought by the wind.\" he slowly slides his blade back into its sheath.

[Kadareth(#28938)] Kadareth wipes the sweat from his face and praises the Powers under his breath that he was left unharmed by this strangest of visitors. He looks around, and turns to the wounded in the room. His face mirrors an expression of absolute astonishment. If such an admirable adversary can be found in the villainous happenings that go on in the city, what others -- far more powerful -- await him?

\"A florin from me as well,\" he mumbles in perpexity. \"And may the Powers grant me the happiness of never having to meet you again, stranger.\"