Long and tiresome were the daily marches of our adventurers and Morgoth's maze seemed endless. Maybe if they had been able to focus solely on walking, they would be able to make it out more quickly, but every day they had to discuss the danger they were facing, and especially who among them were culpable for this danger. While their lungs were more than busy breathing, having to talk all day proved to be too much of a strain for some.
We dwarves are natural sprinters.... were the last words heard from
Groin Redbeard before he laid himself down on the path and died quietly, never to return to his mines. The discussions were only marginally influenced by this event.
Shasta was the first to put his foot down:
I most vehemently do not like phantom. He received a mixed response and much arguing ensued.
Gwathagor, who already was under much scrutiny the last day, slowly and silently gwathered more and more antagonists. In the end, it was decided that he was evil and should die.
I pray to you, do not kill me! he pleaded.
Why? We have decided you are evil. Therefore you are. Nilpaurion made clear.
No, no, you're making a terrible mistake. Trust me. I promise I'll come back and tell you what it is later...
But no more was he able to say. With a swift move
Nilp grabbed
Gwathagor's tongue and, with a strength unheard of for such an old man, ribbed it out. Then
Eönwë appeared and tried to stab
Gwath with his sword. Unfortunately, since his sword was faked - and pointless - this proved a lot more difficult than he expected. Being dissatisfied with
Eönwë's attempt,
Lily took her own dagger and stabbed at
Gwath, but her lack of sight hindered her severely. At last
the phantom stood in front of the tongue-less and beaten
Gwathagor, and with a rare antique gladius, and the words
Sorry lad. Either you or me. he hewed at
Gwathagor with repeated and heavy strokes, leaving nothing but a pile of bloody flesh and bones.
Gwathagor was dead.
Doesn't really look like Gwath was a wolf. Nogrod remarked.
Disappointed the group moved on, looking for a place to stay for the night. Just as they were turning away, they heard words coming from what was once
Gwathagor
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
Gwathagor was the seer.
*~*
Dead:
Macalaure and
Rikae (mods) - killed by wolves and turned into faulty quenya in Night One
Kitanna (ordo) - lynched by a pointless mob on Day One
Lalaith (ordo) - severed from her chalk, and her head, in Night Two
Groin Redbeard (ordo) - died from exhaustion on Day Two
Gwathagor - (seer) turned into a talking corpse on Day Two
Alive:
Feanor of the Peredhil -
visionary whose visions lean toward the abstract
Shastanis Althreduin -
loner roane
Formendacil -
snowbird
Eönwë -
seller of pointless fakes
Nerwen -
treasure-seeker
Kath -
unemployed bum
Nilpaurion Felagund -
aged tale-seeker
Durelin -
eccentric, misanthropic archaeologist
Brinniel -
junk collector
Nogrod -
pointless philosopher
A Little Green -
blind astronomer who sells stars at the stock exchange
the phantom -
obtainer of rare antiquities
Thinlómien -
marine zoologist
Mithalwen -
factotum
Night Three has begun. Wolves: plot and kill. Assassin: assassinate. Others: shhh.