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"Oh, what woes did this night bring with it. Three of us lie dead, but at least one of them in death now is revealed as one of our enemies.
But, o gruesome fate, here now lies Túrin, son of Húrin, mastered by grief over his sister. Túrin, dear, like a son you were to me and like a brother also."
With these words, Macalaure cast away his cloak and stood before the outlaws revealed in his true shape. But no longer was it Macalaure the outlaw, but Beleg Strongbow, once Captain of the Marchwardens of Doriath, now Captain of Dor Cúarthol, wise, strong and beautiful, but also aweful to behold in this hour of his grief and wrath.
"One of these foul creatures still is among us and we shall lynch it today or we shall likely meet our doom as well."
He looked deep into the eyes of everybody, but only one was able to return his sharp glance.
"Of this elderly lady alone I know that she truly is on our side, for I protected her in the same night that some Andróg wickedly stole my bow. Stand up, Rikae, and let us judge what is to be done. The Guy who be short and Gil-Galad will now surely vote for each other, unless they be foolish and cannot tell apart an Elf from a Wolf. But we now must counsel each other and exchange wise words to uncover the truth about these two outlaws, for one of them is not what he claims he is.
Unfortunately, even the Fair Folk is restrained by the need for sleep and Lórien's gardens now call for me to wander within them in my dreams."
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