The expedition awoke from a peaceful night. Despite having lost their precious seer, it seemed to them like no evil thing had happened that night. When they prepared themselves to leave for today's march, they noticed something that made them think that even a miracle had happened. In a corner of the room they were sleeping in, they found many different items, a bow and arrows, cups, provisions, tooth picks, and other helpful things.
Praise the Valar for these useful gifts! the adventurers cried... until they had a closer look at what these diverse gifts were made of, after which they turned their faces away in disgust. They looked around, and only now they realized that
Mithalwen, their factotum, was missing. What had happened during the night?
*~*
At the end of the last day, after many hard hours of marching - and an ill-advised lynching - our adventurers fell asleep quickly once they set up their camp. Two, however, only faked it, and they got up as soon as they deemed themselves safe. Quietly they made their way over their sleeping former comrades until they found the person whose life they desired to end this night. They could have killed their victim silently without waking her, but that was even below their lowly honour.
Mithalwen, oh Mithalwen dear. their whispered into their victim's ear, and Mithalwen woke up - only to look into the bloodthirsty eyes of two creatures of Morgoth.
Yet there was no fear in her heart, but something quite unexpected...
Oh my God! You are wolves, right? You are soo cool, you know. I never thought I'd ever get to see one of you! May I touch your fur?
The wolves backed away from this sudden onslaught of adoration.
Shhh, be silent, you'll wake everyone!
Mith, however, was in no mental condition to restrain herself:
But you are werewolves! You are going to kill all these nasty Valar-worshipping idiots! You rock! Then she hesitated.
You know, I wanted to ask you something, but I'm not sure whether I should, but... may I ask you for an autograph?
The wolves exchanged looks.
Well, I guess that's not a problem, what would you like us to write?
For Mithalwen, our biggestest fan!
The wolves smiled, obliged, and handed
Mith her autograph.
She was confused.
But this reads: Dear Mithalwen, you are going to be ki...
*~*
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
Mithalwen - (cobbler) made into a diverse set of items in Night Three
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
Day Three has begun. Have fun with it!