Rysha grumbled to herself as she hurried through the halls. Go here, fetch that... she thought to herself, mocking the wight. She enjoyed the power she got from serving Gorthroth. The orcs and other creatures left her largely alone for fear of her undead masters, but at some times she wished she were the master.
Coming to a bend in the passage, she sumbled over a small sleeping orc on the ground. It leapt to its feet and snarled at her, baring jagged teeth, and whipped out a curved sword. Rysha stepped back calmly and sneered at it. "Lord Gorthroth summons you." she snapped, fingering her whip. "You will attend him if you know what's good for you."
The orc grumbled and hissed at her, "I'll be there if I goes there. I serve no-one." Rysha shrugged her shoulders, her message delivered, and continued on her way. Gorthroth was quite effective when dealing with those who crossed him, and if she was faithful... Rysha fingered her whip once again, she might be allowed to take part in the fun.
She continued through the halls, seeking out those who could be of use.
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The seasons fall like silver swords, the years rush ever onward; and soon I sail, to leave this world, these lands where I have wander'd. O Elbereth! O Queen who dwells beyond the Western Seas, spare me yet a little time 'ere white ships come for me!
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