Hytorax Part 2

[Lief Erikson]

The rider hacked viciously downward with his dagger.

"ON!" thundered a single voice, from behind the orcish lines of battle.

The human men of Enedwaith, the men deceived by the arts of Dagankor, responded to the call. The spears of the front ranks were lowered, forming a thicket of blades, sharp steel glinting in the sun.

The voice howled a second cry, shrieking unending through the air. "KILLLLLL!!!!!!"

Athalt slashed his dagger, hacking open the throat of the rider in front of him. He raised his fist an instant later, smashing in the face of the choking creature. Another quick movement and he kicked it in the stomach, throwing the beast away from him.

"Enedwaith!" he shouted, frantically.

The lines were breaking. Vahatres was lying on the ground, dripping in blood, as the gargoyle smashed its face into his armor, kniving through the metal plating.

Athalt drew his sword and lunged, but the rider on the beast turned it rapidly, to face him.

Athalt managed to keep from overextending himself, with difficulty. The beast snapped at him, its jaws clicking shut inches from his face.

The neck withdrew, the hot eyes looked at his own. The rider twisted the reins, drawing the creature closer into an attack form.

Then two riders behind thrust their spears through his back, and out the other end of his stomach.

The red eyed creature howled out its dying breath, and its mount abandoned it. The gargoyle hurtled into the air with a sudden burst of energy through its hairless, batlike wings.

A single black creature, it spun upward over the battlefield like a great vulture on the prowl.

The attackers were dead. Vahatres was dead too.

Athalt had no time for this. The battle line was breaking. The thicket of spears was upon them.

He sprang up onto his horse again, and Rufus obeyed him. "Archer first wave, stand your ground!"

He raised his sword into the air. "FIRE!"

The spears of the enemies collapsed in on themselves, as the archers loosed their volley deep into them. The arrows went through the first rank, cutting down several in the second.

"Second wave, fire!

"Third wave, fire!

"First wave, fire!

"Second wave . . ."

The spear men had ran into Athalt's fighters. Swords clanged against the hafts and blades of extended spears. The thicket of spears was broken, turned into a river of blood in the ash strewn ground.

Not far away, the bannerman's head gave way under the ruthless blow of a gargoyle's foot. The creature reached down, its fangs plunging into his back through his chain mail.

Like a small dragon, the gargoyle hovered over its prey. It flung back its head, tossing the broken body like a load of baggage away from his horse.

Descending, it flattened the horse's head too.

The banner of Enedwaith trembled for a moment, and then fell.

It was as though a heavy stone dropped into Athalt's stomach. The king and the banner.

"Eru help us," he gasped.

[Mathron]

<Tareod's Trial>

He tightened the grip on the sword-hilt. He then turned away from the wall and re-entered the foggy maze, making sure he kept contact with the wall of the corridor with his other hand. With luck, he thought, the wizards loose track of me as well in there.

He continued along the wall. He remained uneasy - if they had been able to change the walls before, could they do so again? He could be going in circles for all that he knew.

The growls continued for a time... and slowly faded away. Even then, however, the feeling of being watched never left him.

Abruptly, he entered a chamber that looked very similar to the one where the wall had closed upon him. This one, however, was clear of the everpresent mists. At the other end, as wel, stood an open door, leading into the Shadowhand fortress proper.

And between him and his goal prowled the creature of the mists. A beast like a large dog, with vicious fangs in its mouth - and a skin so dark that it seemed carved from obsidian.

It noted his arrival, and slowly turned in his direction. Silently grinning, it stalked towards him, death in its eyes...

[Finrod Felagund]

From the rear of the Enedwaith army a shriek was hear, high pitched and unhuman and suddenly to the frontlines burst Entai the Griffin, Fimbren's companion. Unbeknownst to the rest of Fimbren's party, Entai had followed at a distance until Fimbren asked him to follow the army. He shrieked again, talons tearing into a gargoyle.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fimbren almost panicked but then strode towards the approaching soldiers, his face shielded by the elaborate black helmet. With a gruffness which suprised even him he shouted "Where are you men going?"
The soldiers stopped for a moment and suddenly saluted.
"General, we, didn't know you was still here. We thought you had left."
Fimbren glanced at the armour and saw a silver insignia,
he must have been a general, Fimbren thought in wonder.
He looked at them again, "I had unfinished business! Continue."
The bowed and went briskly on own the hall.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thorondor awoke with a start. He heard no one around, but his chains were tight. He let out a scream of anguish which echoed throughout the halls of the entire fortress.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Fimbren went through the halls, quite confidently now, he heard a great cry, that of an eagle, and recognized the voice. "Thorondor" he whispered, "but how?"

[Mathron]

<Fimbren's Trial>

As Fimbren went through the halls, quite confidently now, he heard a great cry, that of an eagle, and recognized the voice. "Thorondor" he whispered, "but how?"

Fimbren hurried towards the direction from where the cry had come, worry spreading through him like a dull ache.

It was not difficult to find Thorondor's prison - it was a large chamber, surrounded by heavy bars and thick walls. He could glimpse, within it, a massive cage and many chains, and with a sinking heart, knew that Thoronder was within.

There were few soldiers guarding the place - no doubt they trusted to the chains to keep the mighty eagle bound. The two soldiers at the entrance stood stiffly at attention, their eyes peering in all directions... yet Fimbren still wore the Shadowhand general's armor. The trick had worked well enough the first time - did he wish to risk it again, or find another way in?

[Arat-Falathion]

Iriana faced the shadow emotionless, knowing that to show fear was to ask for a swift kill. Knowing that she had to get the shadow to play her, an idea started to form in her head...

"To dismiss me as a threat is where your master first went astray..." Iriana started, then darted forward, right for the shadow. As she dove through it a sudden freezing sensation filled her, and she nearly swooned. But with the strength of the song and her determined mind, although it tolled her musscles, she landed in a roll and was quickly back at her feet, running for the shut door.

The shadow simply materialized in front of the simple door, laughing hystericaly. "Think you can outrun me?" It mocked her. Iriana wasn't sure she had the stamina or the courrage to withstand the freezing sensation again, it had truly tolled her. But she saw no other option but to dive for the door, hoping she would make it through...

Drawing her sword, she dove, sword leading the way, and crashed, though her momentum didn't stop as the door gave way. The freezing sensation tolled even more this time. As she landed on the barren stonefloor on the other side, she quickly found it hard to breathe, the world was spinning around her. Trying to shake the dizziness off, she heard the mocking laughter of the shadow approaching. If nothing else, the shadow was enjoying the display, it was playing her... just as she intended, but what would it help if she fainted? Little fun in playing with a limp body.

Thoroughly consentrating her mind, she tried to fight the dizziness off, and the song, which momentarily had faded, came back in all its glory.

Suddenly the dizziness was gone, her mind cleared... and the mocking laughter faded. Looking up at the shadow, she saw it fading, its body becoming less materialized the more she focused, focused on the song...

Just like the magical illusions on the walls in the other room had faded, just like Fimbren's body surrounding the shadow had faded, so was the shadow a magical illusion, an illusion to the mind that for most it would appear so real that it became real... But as the song rised up in all its splendor, illusions would find it hard to affect the state of mind that was Iriana... and she staggered to her feet and dusted off her clothes.

[Mathron]

<Iriana's Trial>

Shadow looked on in frustration as Iriana turned her gaze from him, and simply turned to walk away. How dare she ignore him! What gave her the power to deny him authority over her?

He lunged forward, passing through her, trying to grab ahold of her mind, her will, her soul - trying to chill her with the shadow that formed his being...

Yet the song continued to shine within her, in all of its glory. She did not notice the Shadow. To her, he had become less than a passing breeze.

Yet as he struck against her, the contact left its mark upon him. As he grasped for her soul, he felt the fiber of her being - and the song pulsed into him as well.

Confused, Shadow staggered back. It began faintly, but as he shook his head, he could not deny it.

The song revealed truths. It had provided, for Iriana, protection from the illusions of Aasinav - even for his crafted Shadow, a figment of his own self.

That same figment that writhed backwards, through a wall and into the stone beneath the castle, as the song began to tear through it. Too Pure! Too much! It was beyond Shadow's experience. And even aside from the pain it caused his unnatural form... it showed him what he was. And more, it showed him what he was not.

Shadow envied the living. Those who knew the joy of feel and touch, the bright light of laughter and love. This things were unknown to him - but unknown to him in the abstract. He wanted them not because he knew them to be good, but because he did not yet have them.

Yet the song showed him what they were. The song showed him all that he was not. He was merely a Shadow. A Reflection that hungered for a life of its own. And all the sensations that the song briefly awoke in him would never be his.

The song eventually died down, leaving the Shadow to himself - curled up in a ball, hiding in the stone and rock beneath the castle, shuddering at the pain and memory.

And then, with a worldless cry, Shadow fled. Fled from the castle, fled from the Shadowhand. Fled from Aasinav. Fled from Iriana and the song. Fled, unknowing, into the night, into the distance, as far away as it could.

And in the back of his mind, soft as the wind, the Song still tapped out a slow and steady beat.

[Tessar]

”I have no time for pathetic tricks,” Elise thought to herself, almost summoning her power to simply banish the illusion.

Then she paused.

For one thing, if this was a random shot in the dark, perhaps all he wanted was for her to attempt to cast off the spell, which would tell him exactly where she was. He might know anyways, but if he was still blinded, then it was best to leave him that way.

“I will not sit,” Elise said coldly, “Tell me what you want and then be gone, or be sent.” an edge of command lay in her tone, and an even stronger edge of annoyance wormed its way through. She was too old for this sort of foolishness.

Tapping the end of her staff firmly against the ground, Elise locked her eyes to those of the illusion’s. If he could truly see her then she was well aware her gaze should make him uncomfortable. Even if it didn’t, she was ready with many other subtle tricks.

What he had said about fighting against her had been correct. There were few things in Middle Earth that could face the power of a Miar.

”Keep your wits,” Elise reminded herself, ”The dagger you least suspect will always turn on you,”

[Mathron]

<Elise's Trial>

"What I want?" Aasinav glances away, shaking his head sadly. "As I said, all I wish is to talk, for now."

He pauses, and gives a small sigh. "We are enemies, yet I do not see why this is so. Why have you and yours come to stand against the Shadowhand? Why resort to violence, rather than diplomacy."

His eyes flash as he stares back to briefly match Elise's glare. "Or are you so filled with the desire for vengeance upon me, for my betrayal, that you cannot bear the thought of ending this through words, rather than through battle? Are you any better than us mortals, in the end? Are you any better than the evil that you fight, Elise?"

Hie voice ends in nearly a shout, and the echoes take several moments to die down, before Aasinav suddenly looks towards the west, as though startled by events elsewhere. His eyes dip downwards, briefly glancing towards the floor beneath him, and his own distinct lack of a shadow.

[Earniel]

Imarwyn gasped with frustration when she saw the banner of Enedwaith fall. The shadowhand had just struck a hard psychological blow to Vahatres' army. Imarwyn could almost feel it, it was as if the ranks around her wavered.

Then she heard a shriek and saw a flash of feathers. The ranks of Vahatres' army parted hastily to make place for the griffin. Imarwyn stared.

"Aralle?" she whispered.

No, she immediatly told herself, Aralle was dead, this was a different griffin. But the griffin was on their side nevertheless.

Imarwyn quickly sent Merrah in the griffin's wake. And the path it had made brought her to the frontlines, before the gap in the ranks could close again. She stopped as soon as she reached the ranks of the archers. The shadowhand army hadn't advanced in the Enedwaith ranks so far yet. Bending down from her horse Imarwyn shook the shoulder of a sergeant.

"Your best archers, aim for the Shadowhand banner. Bring it down. Now." she ordered.

The man didn't question her right to order him, in the chaos of the battle any orders were welcome, or perhaps he saw what her intention was. He bellowed orders to his archers.

Three archers immediatly took aim at the Shadowhand banner. The first two arrows missed, the third thudded in the wooden frame that held the banner and cut loose the rope that held the bannercloth suspended.

For a second the Shadowhand banner trembled just as the Enedwaith banner had done, but then it fell to the ground, in full view of everone. The fourth arrow killed the bannerbearer.

Imarwyn allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction. Bringing the enemy banner down was but a small victory but it might be enough to keep Vahatres' army fighting. She scanned the chaotic front line before her, where the griffin was fighting with the gargoyle. Athalt should be there somewhere. She hoped he was still alive, if he didn't take command of Vahatres' army now, all would still be lost.

[Lief Erikson]

What chance is there left for us?

Athalt saw the lines dying, the infantry breaking under the rush of Shadowhand soldiers. Vahatres' army was quailing, and the Great Orcs had yet to enter the engagement. Still they were fighting against men of Enedwaith, bound in disunion, incapable of fighting the true enemies of their country.

Our people are dying.

The men were crushed under iron shod feet. Metal breaking the flesh of Enedwaith, piercing to its very heart. Vahatres and the banner, both gone. And the enemy were sweeping onward like an unstoppable hurricane, a fist sweeping out to smash its foes. It was a beast, seeking the lifeblood of the kingdom.

"Not while I live."

Athalt stood up. The enemy ranks were before him, bearing onward. Yet on the wings of his army the enemy were thinner.

Then, as Athalt watched, the enemy banner fell as well.

A spirit of hope touched him. For the first time since the gargoyles' attack, the shadow of a chance.

"VICTORY!"

A griffin hurtled out of the sky, flying overhead. A sign, a sign of the support of Valinor. Their fight was against evil, and supporting them were forces they did not understand.

Athalt rose and mounted his horse, Rufus. "Close in on their flanks!" he cried.

Then he spurred his horse forward, his sword in his hand. Rufus cried out, whinnying. Freedom was in the wind, fighting to survive the strangle hold of the mighty, breaking hand.

Athalt saw the beast descending, the gargoyle hurtling downward through the air. He saw it, and met it. Rufus' hooves smashed into the creature, and Athalt beheaded the beast even as it sought to crush them.

Then he reached down, low in the saddle, and his hand brushed the cracked earth as he snatched up a fallen pole.

He raised it over his head and thundered toward the evil forces. His army's pincer movement was driving back the enemy forces, and the sight of the banner brought new hope into his men's hearts.

"For Enedwaith!" Athalt cried, as he thundered to the battle. The colors of his country's banner flowed over his head, as his army threw back the ranks of men.

[Earniel]

OOC: *mutter, mutter* I should stop promising things I forget anyway until days later...

IC:

Tareod let the dog-beast approach a little while he studied it. In return the critter obviously studied him. Tareod wondered how much intelligence lay behind those fiery eyes.

He considered his situation, the open door was a mighty, though rather obvious lure. But the Shadowhand would not let him enter their fortress so easily, which either meant they thought the dog-beast could take care of him (and looking at the critter, Tareod could see where that reasoning came from) or either that more danger lay behind the open door. In any case he would have to pass the dog-beast regardless of any traps the open door still held.

The creature had approached him so far that if Tareod extended his arm, his sword would touch the obsidan-coloured skin. Tareod slowly stepped back to the right, trying to avoid meeting the dog-beast fangs-first. The beast followed suit and the two of them slowly circled around one another, probing for a weak spot.

Tareod walked with a slight limp in his left leg, inspired by a strategy he had once seen a wild stallion use to distract a pack of wolves from his herd by faking an injury. When the wolves had concentrated on the stallion, the herd had been able to flee but as soon as the wolves attacked, what they thought was a weakened prey, the stallion had dealt skull-crushing blows with his perfectly uninjured hind legs.

Tareod could see his feigned limp didn't escape the dog-beast's attention, he hoped it would not see the true intention behind it as well.

Then the dog-beast lunged, impatient for blood. As Tareod expected the attack was aimed at his left leg. To the critter's surprise Tareod darted out of the way with ease and brought down his sword. With unexpected agility the critter twisted out of the way and the blade missed the intended target: the neck. Nevertheless the blade sliced the dark skin, but not deep enough to cause serious injury.

The dog-beast howled with rage and flung himself wildly at his foe, who -this time- wasn't quick enough to evade in time. The beast's shoulder thudded against Tareod's chest, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

The impact knocked Tareod's sword out of his hand but lying on his back he managed to grab the dark-skinned creature and held it tight; its back pressed against his chest; his arm around its neck, below the vicious fangs. Although the move had saved his life for a moment, there was no way Tareod could release his grip on the trashing creature long enough to get his sword.

In grim desperation Tareod started to apply pressure on the dog-beast's neck. The creature howled again and trashed around, but Tareod's grip remained unbroken.

Tareod could feel his muscles reach straining point, when, with a final bloodcurling howl, the dog-beast's neck snapped. The obsidian body went limp in his arms. Tareod held the beast for a few breaths and then flung it off him. He rose quickly and picked up his sword.

He looked down on creature, half expecting it to rise again magically. The dog-beast didn't furfill the expectations. After a last prod with his boot Tareod turned towards his prize: the open door. Sword in hand, he approached it carefully.

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren straightened his back and marched forward. One man guarded the eagle. "Up fool!" Fimbren grunted. The man stood quickly. Fimbren leered "Get out!" the man scrambled from the room. Fimbren quickly took the keys from a hook on the wall and unchained the eagle. "Thorondor" he whispered. "Fimbren?" the eagle's voice was raw. Fimbren looked at the eagle and for the first time realized that where the great golden eyes had once been were gaping black holes. Fimbren stifled a gasp. "Fimbren, let me go, I may not be able to see, but it matters not."
Fimbren nodded and looked up. The room was roofless. "Fly straight up my friend." Thorondor shook his wings and rose silently to the sky. Fimbren watched until the great shape disappeared in the distance, then suddenly, Fimbren was struck on the head and everything went dark.

[Tessar]

Her words dripping with annoyance, Elise snapped right back at Asinav, “Do you think I want revenge on you? What an idiotic idea. I want the stone back, Asinav, and you stand between me and my goal of reclaiming it,”

Perhaps it wasn’t exactly true. To a certain extent she wanted revenge on Asinav, but not at the cost of her time or even at the risk of hurt to one of the companions she traveled with. It was clear she could not intimidate him, which annoyed her greatly, however she had little fear of him. She’d lived too many lifetimes to worry about death, which was assuming he even had the power to slay a Maiar, which she doubted.

“And as to why we must be enemies, I did not choose to make us so. I fight the Shadow Hand, and many years ago I took part in scattering its forces. The remnants and remains are my enemy, not you personally unless you choose to associate with them,”

Pointing a hand at Asinav as he looked down, Elise said coldly, “End this ridiculous illusion and be gone,”

[Mathron]

Iriana crept down the corridor, blade in hand, trying to decide whether she should spend time looking for her companions... or just go on, and try to complete the mission.

The guards had definitely been alerted to their presence - either that, or simply were on full alert with everything else going on. She already narrowly avoided being caught three times since she got past the Shadow.

She was creeping along on a balcony now, a ridge that overlooked a great hall. In the center of the hall was a stairwell that led upward - from what she could tell, it was the only part of these dungeons that led directly to the tower above. The tower where the Shadowhand mages worked their magics... and the artifacts that needed to claim - or destroy - were being kept.

Yet the hall was filled with nearly a dozen soldiers, and they appeared to be the most skilled of the Shadowhand's forces that she had yet seen. She had circled above on the balcony twice now, but hadn't seen any easy way past them...

Ahead of her, the wall began to move. Freezing in her path, Iriana melted back into the shadows.

Slowly, a door swung open from out of the stonework. A hidden passage, though she had not seen it when she had passed by it previously.

She lifted her blade, and glanced down below. The guards were surely be alerted if she was forced to fight, but there was nowhere to escape to as the door swung open, and out stepped...

Tareod!

The two of them met eyes, and both sighed in relief. Tareod started to say something, but then caught sight of the guards below. And then caught sight of something beyond them, his eyes widening.

Iriana turned to look.

Into the chamber was marching three more soldiers. Between them, they carried Fimbren's body. Still alive... but from the murderous glint in the soldier's eyes, he might not be that way for long....

[Mathron]

<Elise's Trial>


Aasinav shakes his head, almost sadly. "I'm trying to help you, Elise, I really am. But it seems you are determined to find your own death."

He stands up, and brushes off his robes. "You're right - I don't have the power to stand up to you. But there are those who do. Those who tread far darker paths than mine. Those who will laugh at the power of a Maiar. You won't be an enemy to them - you'll scarcely be a nuisance."

He turns, and gestures to the door. "But you've made up your mind, and I won't keep you. Go and leave, and walk on to your death. But don't say I didn't warn you. If you pass through that doorway, you'll be casting hope aside."

He pauses, and glances as though peering through the doorway. "But if you are determined to throw away your life, than I would head through that door quickly. It seems your friends have little more sense than you do, and are just as determined to fall into danger and death..."

So saying, he lowers his outstretched arm and folds his arms across his chest, as though awaiting her departure.

[Lief Erikson]

The Essence, as they now were calling the magical source, shone with a soft blue-white light. It was the only source of light in the shadowed room. The leaders of the Shadowhand surrounded it. There were fully ten wizards in the room. Three watched the room closely for signs of enemy activity, while the others focused their powers upon completing the Essence, gaining power of the magic of the world.

The Essence shone innocently, the trapped and combined magic of many items forced into one place. It was almost a holy sight, to the Shadowhand wizards. They did not touch the light, or reach into its depths. It had the shape of a large piece of paper, a simple two dimensional sheet.

The dark ones were illuminated in the light of the Essence.

"We are almost finished," the Council's leader stated, quietly. The others were aware of it, but the leader was merely speaking out of anticipation. Their task of years was coming to an end, the fruition of all their labors.

The simple and seemingly delicate magical item was shining as though it was a sheet of paper, and another held a lamp on the other side of it. The gentle light illuminated the large, circular room of shadows. Yet as always, the shadows were greater.

The Essence was near ready. The power that the Shadowhand would wield would enable them to seize an enormous span of territory around Enedwaith, and in the future, even all Middle Earth could well fall under the sway of its magical might.

The Council Leader looked up, frowning, at the door. There was a battle going on outside, he was well aware. More than one, perhaps. Those forces were simple, though. Any of the best of warriors the enemy had could be slain with ease by the wizards that filled this room. Once they had the Essence, not even Middle Earth could withstand them.

"Give up, won't you?" the Council Leader muttered grumpily, as he turned back to the Essence. The almost perfect page was about to be completed. When it was, even all these armies and warriors that opposed them even here in Enedwaith would be forced to bow to their order.

[Arat-Falathion]

"Stay here till I've misled the soldiers." Iriana whispered. "Rescue Fimbren and get him to as safe a spot you can find, if he can't fight that is."

Tareod nodded, and Iriana quietly jumped out from the ridge to land, sword in hand, among the soldiers...

[Tessar]

"I don't fear death," Elise grumphed, moving past Asinave and through the doorway.

[Mathron]

<The Rescue>

Tareod began to move silently about the balcony, circling around towards stairs that led down, towards where Fimbren was held captive.

His stealth felt almost unneeded, as Iriana seemed to draw all the attention in the room as she flipped over the edge of the balcony, and landed gracefully amidst the solders, braced against the floor like a hunting cat.

She drew herself to her feet with just as much grace, and her weapon was in her hand in less than a heartbeat - but so was theirs'.

The soldiers, fourteen in total, spread out around her with the skill of practiced warriors. Their eyes were hard but not cruel - they were men dedicated to the blade, and not to be swayed by emotions.

"Drop the blade," said one of them, a dark skinned man with a single white strip through his hair. "Surrender, and we may spare your life, and that of your friend."

His eyes darted towards Tareod, moving silently through the shadows.

For a moment, the situation felt utterly hopeless, as Iriana saw that she had the skill to defeat any three of them, to keep herself alive against maybe half a dozen of them - but against all of them, even with all her strength, she could not survive alone.

Behind her, she noted Fimbren opening his eyes, and taking in his situation.

Across the room, a single door - one that had been hidden by shadows before - slowly opened.


---


Elise left Aasinav behind, and strode into a large hall. The sight that greeted her was sudden and shocking - Aasinav's words had held truth in this, at the least.

Over a dozen warriors surrounded Iriana and a captive Fimbren. Each one moved like a stalking wolf, two blades in each hand, constantly circling around the woman in their midst.

Slowly, their attention staying centered on Iriana, some of them turned eyes towards Elise. "Surrender," said one, a man with a white streak in his hair. "Yield now, or die forever."


---


Aasinav watched Elise leave the room, and shook his head.

Fools. All fools. He had tried to see them spared their self assured destruction, but they had gone forth anyway. They had passed the challenges he left for them - illusions and mindgames, real threats interspersed between the lies.

Yet they had passed them, and his shadow was... missing.

He shook his head. This was not going according to plan, and if the band could get past his defenses... they might be able to truly deal the Shadowhand a dangerous blow.

Slowly, resolutely, he rose to his feet. He smiled, amused that Elise had never realized that she spoke, not with his illusion, but with his true person. But the smile faded as he recalled his situation.

"Looks like it is time to be on my way," he whispered to himself. He had finished his research on the magical artifice the Shadowhand had put together. He had no need for the raw power it contained - but knowledge of that power, and how it was gathered, and how the magical artifacts had interacted... that he could use.

His room was already prepared for his departure. He would grab the last of his gear, and be on his way.

Ready to investigate the world once again.

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren stood quickly, realized what had happened and searched the soldiers in an instant, grabbing his sword and armour.