Bor\'s Folly: The End

The silence is all-encompassing a thick, enveloping presence that lingers heavy in the air.

And it is humid and narrow, this cave, allowing for only two to walk abreast. The path leads steadily downwards, the air sparser, the light dimmer as one descends further and further in the earth.

After some time, one would come to an area where the cave widens. Into a small alcove to the left and a large opening to the right...

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

It was night when the Company descended into the cave, forewarned of its danger before by the Druedain of Druwaith Iaur. By torch\'s light, they followed the descending trail deep into the underearth of the region. With each step, the air on the narrow path restricts itself further. The Company is left with just enough breath to sustain their travel. At their head, Sir Lord Imrakhor.

\"One wonders if it ever ends,\" he says aloud.

[Fîndon(#29212)]

There also is Findon, gaze roving the dimness in front, and brand held high -- or, as high as it can be, in the case of the latter -- before him. A frown occupies his mien and with a breath drawn through the nose, he says:

\"We should douse one torch or two, if we dare. The air is foul enough down here without the smoke.\"

[Calenloth(#27998)] A step, downward, another step, Calenloth draws one slow breath after another, one foot behind the other, minding those who walk before her, with an occasional glance to the back to those who follow behind. She is silent, for now, eyes squinting forward into the low light.

Having said nothing, and now weary, Lominzil follows behind Sir Imrakhor, touching the wall to lean upon it briefly.

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

Steadying himself before turning to face Findon, Imrakhor catches sight of a leaning Lominzil and frowns. \"Douse yours, Sir Findon. Menelglir will keep his lit from the rear and I from the fore. We must continue, though.\"

He does not yet lead on, pausing to guage the reaction of the rest.

[Fîndon(#29212)]

Turning face to Imrakhor, Findon answers with a subtle nod. Then he averts his glance briefly over the shoulder, back towards the others. And back again levelly upon Imrakhor.

He takes a knee and sees to it quickly.

[Calenloth(#27998)] \"Then press on we must.\"

\"The voice soft, but clear, and Calenloth takes a few steps forward. Though her feet strike softly, the sounds echo against the dark walls.

[Fîndon(#29212)]

\"Let us do so then,\" Says Findon, rising evenly. \"It cannot be much further now.\"

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

Findon\'s words echo down the path.

The Lord Bragollach turns and leads the Company onwards.

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

Some many steps further, the tunnel plateaus and descends no more. It is there that the path narrows to allow only one to pass at a time. Looking down the narrow corridor, one sees two separate trails. One that leads to the left and one that leads to the right. It is at the beginning of the narrow corridor that the Lord Bragollach halts the group, raising his hand into the air.

\"A choice, at last,\" he says.

[Calenloth(#27998)] Risen upon her toes, Calenloth peers over the shoulders of the one who stands before her. \"And how does one decide?\" she asks. \"Does the light show one to be different than the other?\"

She too, pauses for a moment, \"I wonder which she took,\" she muses. \"Or if she wandered between the two.\"

\"You are in the front, Imrakhor,\" comes Lominzil\'s voice from behind. \"I think it is your choice.\"

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

Imrakhor steps ahead of the group, down the narrow corridor. Arriving at the divide, he looks to the right first and then to the left.

His eyes widen.

\"There is light here. Where there is light, there is perhaps air too,\" he says hurriedly. \"Come, and take the path to the left!\"

Imrakhor has left.

Alcove

A large circular alcove set into the highlands themselves. A single crack in the ceiling allows for precious light to filter in, casting a yellow glow about the room. In the center there are signs of a firepit once present and against the walls are scattered an array of forgotten artifacts.

Contents:

Firiel\'s Royal Chest

Arnorian Axe

Arnorian Longsword

Arnorian Longsword

Arnorian Bow

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

Lord Imrakhor has only one word as he steps into the alcove.

\"Firiel.\"

Then he inhales, taking in what breath the fissure in the earth has allowed to trickle into the room along with the light. \"It must be.\"

Lominzil rolls his shoulders, stiff from the long linear trek downwards. \"Then these must be hers, and of her men,\" he comments, looking at what lies in the alcove by the low light. \"But no sign of herself, or what remains of her.\"

[Fîndon(#29212)]

Breathing a sigh, Findon comes in with a raised glance t\'ward the light. \"It has been many hundreds of years, Squire,\" He says, \"Who is to say what remains of Queen Firiel, if anything?\"

\"Swords,\" he muses then, looking down: \"Trinkets. Pray, what is in that chest, I wonder?\"

[Calenloth(#27998)] The young woman steps forward, circling slowly around the firepit. Her eyes glance upward, toward the crack, the light falling upon her face. \"And she sat, here,\" Calenloth murmurs, as her feet fall upon the stone.

She too, observes the weapons cast upon the ground. \"No... bones.\" And too, stares upon the chest.

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

\"Open it, Lady Calenloth,\" says the Lord Bragollach, bent upon a knee before the firepit. He motions Findon over, asking, \"Have we enough any kindling, torches aside, with which to raise a fire?\"

\"You, and me,\" answers Lominzil to Sir Findon. \"Her voice remains.\"

He stands near the chest.

[Calenloth(#27998)] \"I shall.\"

The girl crosses the stone, kneeling before the chest. The latch, rusted with time, releases with a sharp tug. But the chest itself requires more. Setting her basket upon the ground, she stands, stepping over the chest, bracing the back with her foot as she pulls, unsuccessfully, once, again, and a third time. A dagger removed from her sleeve, she pries at the metal crack of the lid, before it releases, suddenly. The lid opens, but momentum casts her upon the ground behind.

Lominzil moves quickly to break his cousin\'s fall.

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

What is within the chest belongs to Firiel alone and not her soldiers. There is a collection of dresses, somewhat distressed but made with such finery that they still retain their shape and color. There is, as well, a golden mirror. And beneath that, a dagger with ornameted hilt.

And, at the bottom, an ancient scroll.

[Fîndon(#29212)]

\"So it does,\" Findon says, an eyebrow lightly perched over his glance at Lominzil and his tone turns mildly dry: \"Do you hear it? Or do you see it here?\"

\"No, little enough,\" He tells Imrakhor, turning even as Lominzil moves to Calenloth\'s assistance. \"Will the torches not serve? We may light again another.\"

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

Imrakhor remarks to Findon, \"Let us try.\"

[Calenloth(#27998)] Time enough to marvel at the Queen\'s belongings, Calenloth lacks. But rising from her tumble, she first smiles upon her cousin in thanks. The contents of the chest, wonderous. the silks soft to the touch, the colors unfaded, the fibers strong. \"Why, even the ribbons have not frayed,\" she comments softly.

The scroll passed to Lominzil, the dagger taken into her hand. The lady holds the two weapons in her hands, the blades almost indistinguishable, but the fine golden threads raised from the handle of the Queen\'s gleams brightly in the faint light. \"Lovely.\"

The Girithlin glances appreciatively on the fine dresses, the gold-traced mirror and dagger. But his attention alights upon the scroll, and as it is passed, he unrolls it carefully, scanning the ancient vellum.

[Fîndon(#29212)]

\"Here,\" Says Findon, what remains of his torch held forward into the flames of Imrakhor\'s. It is withdrawn, having caught fire, and raised on high allowing the dim light to grow somewhat clearer, somewhat brighter.

He looks sidelong upon the others then: \"What have you found?\"

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

Of the fall of Arthedain

And then the hosts of Angmar came out of the north led by the Witch-king, who brought potent magic. The siege of Fornost was great indeed, with the men of that fell land arrayed before the city, united with the dark Men of Rhudaur, hill-trolls of the Ettenmoors, and other creatures of the wilds. With them was a great siege engine pulled by the strongest of the trolls, great giant beasts driven on by the whips of the taskmasters.

The Witch-king was wily and able to bring the full might of his host to bear by choosing a day of dark and storm when the trolls feared little the light of Anor. Indeed, some that day looked up and saw sorcery at work. On the dark host came, countless ants moving as one towards the gate of the Norbury of the Kings. At the gate itself stood King Arvedui, undaunted by the foes who sought to wrest from him his capital. Arrayed about him were the champions and knights of Arnor led by the king\'s heir, ready to stand beside the heir of Isildur in the moment of trial.

Though the hail of the great bows of the Dunedain rained down upon them, on came the trolls pulling the great engine, mercilessly urged on by their minders. Yet this was not the greatest threat of the day. The Witch-king spread fear not only through his sorcery, but by using our own loved ones. Great catapults flung over the walls the heads of wives, children, comrades in battle. It was terrible to behold! But let it never be said that the Men of Arnor were unmanned by this. Indeed, their resolve was only hardened as tears of grief came.

Then came the great engine, a ram borne by the trolls for the breaking of the gate. Even under the rain of arrows from above, the trolls swung the ram forward: once, twice, thrice. At the third striking of the gate, the Witch-king cried out in a shrill voice of death and at his command, the enchantment of the hammer broke the gate, sending its fragments flying, killing both friend and foe.

Onward rode the Dark Captain to the threshold of Fornost and there waiting for him was King Arvedui himself. The Witch-king though cruelly laughed, mocking the king and his men as the host of Angmar surged past their lord. With the gate and the walls under fierce assault, the Dunedain fought valiantly, but could not stand against the tide...

Unknown Soldier

Lominzil reads in silence.

\"The scholars would pay for this in blood,\" he says.

[Calenloth(#27998)] \"The belongings of a Queen,\" come the wistful words of Calenloth, as she gazes upon Findon. Her own dagger once again tucked away, she turns Firiel\'s small weapon in her hand. \"Left to this world, though she has passed.\"

And her eyes to Lominzil, as the scroll is revealed, she continues, \"And news. News that never reached its destination. Perhaps until now.\"

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

Imrakhor places his torch unto the makeshift firepit. It burns in the center of the alcove, providing more light and heat.

\"What is it, Squire?\" asks the Lord Bragollach.

[Fîndon(#29212)]

But, Findon brings his, glance drawn by Lominzil\'s cryptic speech, but Calenloth also. He looks to the dagger, and says quietly: \"We should bring these items back with us to Rath Dinen.\"

\"That should be her place.\"

\"It is an account of the fall of the North-kingdom,\" answers Lominzil, reading the unfaded words again. \"But no word of the Queen.\"

[Calenloth(#27998)] \"Her memory,\" Calenloth agrees. Folds of material tucked carefully back into the chest, once more, the materials slipped through her materials. Light dances across the jeweled trims, the golden mirror casting a circle upon the wall as it too is packed into the layers of soft clothes and fineries.

\"But I shall hold this dagger. At least,\" she pauses, gazing once more upon the gold-wrought trim, \"For now.\" The lid pulled closed, the latch replaced with a fumble.

[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir peers over Lominzil\'s shoulder.

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

\"We should rest now, while air filters through and heat is available,\" says Imrakhor. \"A few hours is all. Findon and I shall watch over the camp.\"

Everyone, including the watching Knights, were given to slumber. And then, the dreams began.

The Nightmares

You hear a voice in your head, the faintest female whisper: \"Wake! Wake! Wake!\"

[Imrakhor(#30834)]  Imrakhor has fallen asleep, and the torchlight in the center has grown dim. Yet he is amongst the first to open his eyes, and he grabs one of the faintly lit torches nearby. \"I have seen it,\" he spits out, turning the torch to the entrance of the alcove. He hears the hissing and sees the procession.

Snakes.

One lashes out at him.

Snakes! bears its fangs at Imrakhor!

Snakes! misses!

Lominzil awakes, huddled into his cloak, his shoulders heaving with silent sobs.

A sob dies in his throat.

The Squire shouts, \"IMRAKHOR,\" and stumbles towards him, sword already drawn.

[Conalmir(#31396)] \"NO!\" There is a strangled gasp with the shout, on an indrawn breath, and Conalmir lunges to his feet and forward, sword out. He is weeping, his face set. Two, three steps - and Lominzil\'s shout. The white squire stops, looking around bewildered.

[Cwen(#30783)]

A Scream! Cwen awakes with just that, jumping to her feet in a mixture of expected pain and fear. Dagger is held in one hand as she seems ready to attack..nothing. With a spin on her heels nothing is there. Yet the pain and fear was so real and putting a shaking hand on her back then looking at it with nothing there draws shock into her other emotions.

Trembling - possibly noticably so from the dim light the hissing is on heard as a background noise for a moment. Coming out of her fog, dagger still in hand she blinks a few times setting her blue gaze in the direction of all the noise, trying to make sense of it.

[Fîndon(#29212)]

Lying thither, by the farthest side of the firepit, his head turning fitfully to and fro ever and annon, Findon sleeps. And then he stirs.

In a rustle of mail, he pushes himself up from the floor by an arm and freezes like so peering thence ahead at the entrance and the march of the serpents. And there Imrakhor.

\"Away, Imrakhor!\" He calls, quick to come to his feet, his hands reach for the Bragollach\'s shoulders, or his cloak anything by which to draw him back from the Snake\'s snapping jaws!

[Calenloth(#27998)] \"No.\" Calenloth turns, fitfully. \"There is something, there has to be...\" Her eyes snap open... A sound? An echo in her ears of a hand, slammed down upon the table... No. \"Tis not that sound.\"

She rises, slowly, her body elevated from the stone by her arms, feet tucked underneath. \"Something!\" She yells, scrambling faster, rising completely upon her toes.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"NOW!\" shouts Menelglir, half in sleep, half in this alcove. \"I said now!\" And then he jerks up, awake, looking about in confusion: \"Where did they go?\"

But a moment is all he needs to gather his wits, then he is up on his feet, hand on sword hilt.

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

Imrakhor bats away the attacking snake with his sword.

\"I know what awaits us,\" he says. \"I know these snakes. I know of Firiel. I know of her Doom. And I know that we must face it now,\" says the Bragollach.

He strikes out at the head of the snake which attacked him!

Imrakhor attacks Snakes! with his Longsword and wounds it!

Lominzil stands near the entrance to the alcove, his feet upon the thin line of light traced upon the ground. The dust of the floor rises in swirls.With dream-wrought fury and cold dread, he fends off the march of snakes, one arm bearing blade, the other wrapped thickly in his cloak.

You attack Snakes! with your Longsword...

You have defeated Snakes!!

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

Imrakhor not only strikes the head of the snake he deflected, but his blade makes through the necks of a few others as well. And then Lominzil, closest and most fervent, sweeps through the trail of beasts, lopping off their necks.

There is a pause, breath gathered, with the serpent corpses before them.

[Conalmir(#31396)] Slowly, Conalmir\'s eyes clear, but his face remains stony the glimmer of tears tracing his cheeks. And on his swordhilt, his hand is white-knucked. The corpses of snakes lie before them - torches flicker dimly. It is a cave, not an island.

It is a cave, not a manor. Lominzil leans against the wall of the alcove, his breath coming in gasps.

\"This, then,\" he says into the sudden stillness, \"was the beginning of Firiel\'s end, and the beginning of our answer.\"

[Cwen(#30783)]

Every so often a hand moves to the small of her back. No wetness is found there and the expectation to find blood has faded. The trembles to fade and Cwen finds a stronger sense of calmness - espically as the snakes are killed.

The dagger remains in her hand however now resting at her side. The handle is gripped tight with white knuckles. Swollowing the lump in her throat she coughs a little covering it with her hand. So far, that is the only sound this woman makes.

[Calenloth(#27998)] Snakes. Everywhere. Motionless, the danger gone for now. Blinking back the images from her mind, Calenloth\'s eyes cast upon the ground, and the various states of the company. Terror, anguish, fear... \"What has happened?\" she asks, softly, to whoever might hear.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"Snakes...and we slept, somehow. Sorcery, for certain,\" Menelglir answers to Calenloth\'s query. He glances at her, then Cwen, then back to Calenloth again. \"But something is amiss--you are ill? Cwen?\"

[Fîndon(#29212)]

Retrieving what remains of the torch he placed there earlier, Findon looks now toward the serpents and their slayers with creases on his brow.

\"Were you bitten?\" Asks he, looking by turn at Imrakhor and Lominzil.

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

\"Firiel,\" says Imrakhor. It is almost a prayer, or a poem.

The Lord Bragollach does answer Findon, does not give him a look. Wordlessly, the Knight flees the alcove into the dark beyond.

Imrakhor has left.

\"We follow,\" answers Lominzil, his voice perfectly level and clear.

He does so.

Earthward extends a chamber unfit for man. The grounds are uneven, allowing only narrow and unsure paths through fingers of rock torchlight reflects only the over-bright crystalline and coppery scales of bedrock and the stench of sure death thickens the still airs. A single dripping of water echoes evenly throughout this place, aiding no attempt at bearing.

The senses are dumb in this cavern, and the unknown lord.

Contents:

Firiel\'s Doom

[Calenloth(#27998)] \"Sleep.\" A whisper from Calenloth, the idea strangely enticing. \"I slept.\"

But the words of Imrakhor strike her oddly, and she too repeats the name. \"Firiel?\"

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

The Bragollach\'s flickering torch leads into the rather large cave. A torch in a hand, the sword in another, he calls out into the darkness.

\"Servant of Morgoth, reveal yourself!\"

Lominzil stands near, shadows fallen over his mien.

[Fîndon(#29212)]

Too Findon, thither, sword in hand, the dying brand in the other peering forward.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

And Menelglir.

[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir comes behind.

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

There is a rumbling in the depths. You feel it at your feet.

Then a growing stench and the noise of movement.

Yet it is still a somber affair.

Before an eruption! A great wingless wyrm emerges from caves further within! Its eyes are borne upon Imrakhor, and so too its claw and teeth.

\"Foooooooooooooooooooools,\" vibrates the attacking beast!

Firiel\'s Doom lashes out at Imrakhor with claw and teeth!

Firiel\'s Doom misses Imrakhor.

[Fîndon(#29212)]

Pause is thus brought to Findon for a moment he does naught as the wyrm bears down upon Imrakhor.

\"Snakes,\" He murmurs through gritted teeth, tosses the torch to the side, and adds another hand to the hilt. Holding his sword before him he lounges forward then.

Pointy end first.

Findon attacks Firiel\'s Doom with his Greatsword, but he misses.

Lominzil raises an arm to his forehead, shielding his face from the explosion. Then he looks fully upon Firiel\'s Doom.

With a glance to Sirs Imrakhor and Findon, he takes the other side -- edge first.

You attack Firiel\'s Doom with your Longsword...

Firiel\'s Doom dodges your attack.

[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir is at the back as Findon lunges forward, he moves also - towards where his fellow squire fights.

[Cwen(#30783)]

The men charge, and Cwen stands there. The mighty creature gives her a moment of pause. Her dagger - how small it is when compared to the swords of the men, is held tip forward. She was told to use the tip, such a rule coming to her mind now. Also, her bow is considered. The darkness may make the men better targets and there is no desire to injure one of her own -- again. So for the moment the golden haired and blue eyed woman peers at the fight before her, dagger in hand and decision made as she awaits the chance for an opening.

[Conalmir(#31396)] Lominzil misses as Conal comes up beside him. With hardly a pause the white squire lunges forward in his turn, stabbing at the terrible creature.

[Calenloth(#27998)] The Queen\'s dagger held in her hand, Calenloth lingers a moment, watching the men enter the fray, one by one. A delicate weapon, beautiful. Her eyes travel to the beast, her gaze hardens. But little help she can bring from this distance.

Around the perimeter, into she shadows, she hugs the wall, step by quiet step. Perhaps to attack from behind.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

Somewhere in the chaos is Menelglir, at the front of the fight, stabbing at the beast.

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

Imrakhor is taken aback for the briefest of moments as the Wyrm of Morgoth strikes at his body. Yet he is quick enough to dodge and recover.

His blade lashes out near the neck of Firiel\'s Doom!

Imrakhor attacks Firiel\'s Doom with his Longsword, but he misses.

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

Firiel\'s Doom spares none.

Roaring, the beast strikes down at Findon!

Firiel\'s Doom lashes out at Findon with claw and teeth!

Firiel\'s Doom misses Findon.

[Fîndon(#29212)]

Eyes widening, Findon drops to a low crouch swiftly, narrowly ducking under the limb swung at him. But he rises evenly, hewing it even as it passes him by.

Findon attacks Firiel\'s Doom with his Greatsword and wounds her!

Maintaining a tenuous foothold on the crystalline surface of the cave, Lominzil strikes out at the wyrm in the low light.

You attack Firiel\'s Doom with your Longsword...

Firiel\'s Doom dodges your attack.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

As the beast twists away from his sword, Menelglir lunges in with cold steel toward the thing\'s soft underbelly. Presumably.

Menelglir attacks Firiel\'s Doom with his Longsword and mildly wounds her!

[Cwen(#30783)]

Cwen has shifted her position to. Finding a better place. Ther is an opening and with swift and light steps she moves forward dagger in hand the tip headed for the wyrn.

Cwen attacks Firiel\'s Doom with her Dagger, but she misses.

[Conalmir(#31396)] And Conalmir swings again as well, his breath rasping harshly in his throat.

Conalmir attacks Firiel\'s Doom with his Longsword and wounds her!

[Menelglir(#17324)]

And again, Menelglir hacks down with blade, his previous blow having done hardly any damage at all.

Menelglir attacks Firiel\'s Doom with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.

[Calenloth(#27998)] Behind the wyrm, Calenloth is cast into shadows. Perhaps only the glint of firelight off the steel she carries reveals her presence, but she lunges forward, weapon bared.

Calenloth attacks Firiel\'s Doom with her Dagger, but she misses by a long shot.

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

The Lord Bragollach seeks the Wyrm as well, striking at the beast\'s belly.

Imrakhor attacks Firiel\'s Doom with his Longsword and moderately wounds her!

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

The Wyrm is struck thrice and wheels in despair and anger!

Her blow is then brought to bear upon Conalmir.

Firiel\'s Doom lashes out at Conalmir with claw and teeth!

Firiel\'s Doom severely wounds him!

[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir\'s lunge forward has been successful - at a cost. He can\'t get back quickly enough, and the wyrm\'s claws strike him full in the body, sending him through the air and into a wall. The squire hits with an audible thud and slides bonelessly down the stone to lie on the ground.

Lominzil watches with widened eyes, halting for only a moment. His eyes burn, and he drives relentlessly forward, lunging forward in silence.

You attack Firiel\'s Doom with your Longsword...

Your attack against Firiel\'s Doom moderately wounds her!

[Fîndon(#29212)]

Conalmir\'s fall draws his glance, but does not halt Findon\'s attack.

A thrust at the drake\'s body.

Findon attacks Firiel\'s Doom with his Greatsword and moderately wounds her!

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

The beast responds, rearing back and striking at Findon!

Firiel\'s Doom lashes out at Findon with claw and teeth!

Firiel\'s Doom badly wounds him!

[Cwen(#30783)]

A miss! Cwen frowns, eyes narrow. With a mutter in something Rohirric under her breath the dagger is held tip forward once more as she attempts to drive it into the beast.

Cwen attacks Firiel\'s Doom with her Dagger, but she misses by an arm\'s length.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"Squire!\" Menelglir gives a shout as Conalmir flies by, but there is no time to tend to the man. He stands shoulder to shoulder with Findon, shield as defense as he strikes again.

Menelglir attacks Firiel\'s Doom with his Longsword and moderately wounds her!

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

Imrakhor adds to the flurry of blades.

Imrakhor attacks Firiel\'s Doom with his Longsword and badly wounds her!

[Calenloth(#27998)] \"Useless.\" Calenloth mumbles, the dagger dinging off the body of the wyrm. \"Not even a scratch across the skin.\" Tucked back into her cloak, she instead reaches for the weapon still hidden inside the folds of wool, drawing a sword from its casing.

She raises the blade, high above her head, trying to strike downward.

Calenloth attacks Firiel\'s Doom with her Longsword and mildly wounds her!

[Fîndon(#29212)]

Back now, back!

But Findon is not fast enough the wyrm strikes him about the shoulder, which sends the knight reeling, staggering backwards unsteadily...

...but he does not fall, bending, drawing a ragged breath.

Lominzil reaches forward with his off-hand, striving to catch coil and slime, and hew with the sword. A certain recklessness in his grace, and seeing naught else but the death of the wyrm...

You attack Firiel\'s Doom with your Longsword...

Firiel\'s Doom dodges your attack.

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

Blow upon blow arrives to Firiel\'s Doom. But the one from Imrakhor Lord Bragollach descends most savagely, and the beast reels back in horror.

Again, she calls, \"Fooooooooooools!\" before attacking Imrakhor.

Firiel\'s Doom lashes out at Imrakhor with claw and teeth!

Firiel\'s Doom severely wounds him!

[Menelglir(#17324)]

The worm rears to attack Imrakhor, and from the other side, Menelglir\'s blade slashes through the air, trying to reach the beast.

Menelglir attacks Firiel\'s Doom with his Longsword and badly wounds her!

[Fîndon(#29212)]

Now advancing again, along with Menelglir\'s, Findon\'s sword falls evenly upon the wyrm.

Firiel\'s Doom collapses to the ground, defeated by Findon!

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

There is the sagging of the Lord Bragollach, despite his assault upon the beast, he is struck worse and crumbles against the wall.

Blows from Calenloth, Menelglir weaken the beast. He strumbles back.

Finally, Findon\'s blow is driven across her neck, severing it from its body.

[Calenloth(#27998)] From behind, Calenloth pulls the sword from the body of the beast, leaving an ooze across the crack left by the blade. She glances upward, to see the head drop forward, a thud resounding as the creature falls.

Onto the back of the beast she steps, moving forward, to meet the rest of the company, dark blood still behind upon her weapon. A smile upon her face fades, quickly, when she sees a fallen squire, and Lord Bragollach, limp, against the wall.

Lominzil stands still, drenched in the splatter of the wyrm\'s blood.

His longsword clatters upon the ground. He runs, slipping, to Imrakhor.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"Help him tend the Knight!\" Menelglir yells, waving Calenloth and Cwen toward Lominzil and Imrakhor. He glances to Findon and then turns to rush to Conalmir.

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

Even as the Company rushes towards him, Imrakhor stands.

\"So, it is done,\" he says, shrugging off the assistance offered him.

[Cwen(#30783)]

Her dagger has failed to make a single hit. At his Cwen frowns deeply - and then, even more as blood splats against her dress and some of her face as Findon finishes off the beat. Grumbling while the edge of of her sleeve is used to wipe the blood from her face feet turn to lead her with rushed steps to Imrakhor - to give aid where needed. A sideways glance full of worry passes to Conalmir as well.

Being no healer, there is little she can do.

[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir lies crookedly on the ground, great gouges slashed through his armor across his stomach. Blood oozes out darkly. His eyes are shut and the back of his head is also bloody. Unconscious, but yet breathing.

\"Is this your answer?\" Lominzil asks quietly, gesturing to the decapitated coils of the Wyrm. His left side, head to foot, is splattered in darkness.

[Fîndon(#29212)]

Drawing another ragged breath, amidst the carnage, Findon takes to a knee for a time.

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

The strangest thing happens then.

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

Just as the Lord Bragollach seems to regain his balance and strength, he trips upon a rock. His sword still unsheathed points upwards.

His heart falls to the sword, pierced immediately through and through.

His eyes are wide and open, and then they fall to darkness.

The Lord of the Bragollachs breathes no more.

[Calenloth(#27998)] \"No!\" The voice from Calenloth, the exclamation brief. She, still perched upon the lifeless body of the creature, topples forward, down, upon the ground, too hitting the stone with a clatter as the sword falls beside her.

Yet she is unharmed, and scrambles to rise to her feet in disbelief.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

Intent on Conalmir, Menelglir rips lengths of cloth from the Squire\'s tunic and forms a hasty bandage on the worst of his wounds. The cry from Calenloth makes him turn in haste-and then, shouting some utterance of shock, he springs to his feet--torn between helping the still-living Conalmir, but in disbelief of Imrakhor\'s sudden death.

Lominzil is by his Knight\'s side in moment, and a moment too late. He kneels, reaching to turn him gently onto his back.

\"Imrakhor,\" he says quickly, his mien wide-eyed and fell and cold. And that is all he says, expecting no response from the Knight -- the event itself a completion of a foretold doom.

[Calenloth(#27998)] Calenloth but whispers, \"His gift.\" Recovered of her fall, she picks her sword from the ground beside her, wiping the sides upon the beast before walking beside Lominzil, standing beside the Squire.

[Fîndon(#29212)]

Dismayed, Findon rises, moving over to the place where Imrakhor fell. He looks down at the deceased, for a time, with creases on his brow.

Then he turns, striding towards the entryway, heedless of all things.

Later some moments later, when his gone, steel rings against stone, once echoing in the passageways.

And then, silence.

[Conalmir(#31396)] The squire\'s breathing is hoarse and shallow, and even through his unconciousness, lines of pain furrow his face. His eyelids flutter, then open to stare unseeingly up at Menelglir as the knight bandages his stomach, and he mutters something unintelligible.

[Imrakhor(#30834)]

Imrakhor Bragollach seizes up and then collapses down.

In his face, once writ a thousand war stories, is only a boy\'s recollection. His body, lost of the tension of position, is but a fledgling.

Lord? Knight? Criminal? Traitor?

What titles are there for the dead?

Only one: Imrakhor Bragollach, Another Lost Son of his House.

Gaze for dead gaze, Lominzil stares down with no tears in his face.

Imrakhor\'s squire passes a hand before the stricken man\'s face, closing his eyes at the last.

\"Say goodnight to the dark,\" he murmurs, and bends to lift the body in his arms.

[Cwen(#30783)]

Tears flow from Cwens eyes. There is no sense in wiping them away as they will keep coming.

\"Lominzil. Do me the honour, please, of helping me to write his tale. I will honour him in history.\"

Her words are soft - perhaps hardely able to be heard. A sniffle, and then silence as the woman stands there in quiet respect.

[Fîndon(#29212)]

Now, there comes Findon, notched and bloodied sword in hand. His bearing is sunken, his mien ashen and drawn. He returns to Imrakhor\'s side, there setting down his weapon in its sheath.

\"Everyone,\" He says quietly but strangely, his voice carries.

\"Gather \'round.\"

Lominzil straightens, staggers a step beneath his burden, then walks resolutely to the elder Knight.

\"The Stone,\" the squire whispers, of the blood-red ruby about the dead one\'s neck. \"It is to be returned to his house.\"

[Cwen(#30783)]

Upon Findons return a teary-blue gaze is rested upon him. Moving forward Cwen \'gathers \'round\' and in her silence she watches, and listens.

[Fîndon(#29212)]

A hand alighting upon Lominzil\'s shoulder, Findon tells him: \"It will be seen to. Rest for a time, Squire I will help you carry him. But, hear me,\" He says then, glance sweeping over the others.

\"We have a long trek ahead of us back to Dol Amroth, and I fear it will not be fast. Through the Andrast we will go, and on our way south we shall call briefly by the lords that still hold the Imrazor as thier liegelords, and summon them to council.\"

\"But we shall rest here for a day in grief, and bury our brother.\"

Empty-eyed, Lominzil answers with a nod, \"Yes, sir.\"

But he does not loosen his vise-like hold, nor move towards the mouth of the wyrm\'s abode.

[Cwen(#30783)]

Arms cross before her - it gives little for comfort. Cwen slowly nods and again sighs a moment given to wipe away a tear.

\"I will like to write a song, in his honour. And play it upon his burial, if that will be alright.\"

[Fîndon(#29212)]

\"I think he would be honored,\" Findon tells the Ephalkhir lady, with a nod.

\"Come, let us get out of here.\"

\"It is two hours to the surface,\" says the Girithlin.

Lominzil turns away, his back to the gathered, his face to the path. As he walks woodenly, the corpse is stained not only with blood, but also with tears.

[Calenloth(#27998)] \"Certainly,\" Calenloth replies, casting a glance around the darkened cave. \"They did say this place to be cursed,\" she remarks, bending forward to take the feet of Conalmir. Menelglir the shoulders, and the two carry, slowly, following behind.

[Cwen(#30783)]

Cwen gives a nod - and also seems releaved to be out of here despite how much time it may take. She has nothing left to say, yet much to think of.

FADE TO BLACK