Zimrakhor was summoned to speak with his Master. He hurried through the halls of the palace with his red robes flapping as he ran. He composed himself a moment before the door then knocked, and was admitted by the guards. He bowed deeply before Gorthaur.
"Zimrakhor, my loyal friend," said Gorthaur. "A ship must be sent to Hyarnustar with all haste. I have perceived that there may be a dragon lurking there."
"A dragon?" cried Zimrakhor with alarm. "That is news indeed! But there is a storm over the Southern coasts..."
"Surely in this great Kingdom of mariners, there can be found a crew brave enough to sail through a little storm, is there not? The reward would be great."
"Yes!" said the Numenorean, eager to please the King's Advisor. "I shall find a crew and man a vessel with many archers to slay the beast!"
"Fool!" hissed Gorthaur. "Dragons were servants of the mighty Melkor, of old. I do not want it slain, even if a few bowmen could do so. It may prove a mighty ally! I wish it found and its location given to me alone. I would make the King a mighty gift of such a beast."
"Yes, my Lord!" replied Zimrakhor as he backed out the door...
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Beleriand, Beleriand,
the borders of the Elven-land.
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