"Come in, come in," said the Envoy of Mordor. "I have been expecting you."
"You have?"
The Envoy smiled. It was not a very nice smile, but his visitor had the sense it was doing its best. "Why, what sort of magician would I be if I had not? I dreamed of you tonight. I know who you are and why you are here– young Acolyte. Come, and I will teach you, as the Empress commanded."
The Acolyte shuffled uncomfortably on the threshold. "Well, I'm not sure if I– that is, I–"
"I know, I know– I saw it all in your mind. You have doubts. You are loyal to your own people, and hate the Men of Gondor– as who does not?— yet you have unfortunately been led astray by some of the more absurd stories about my Master. Ha! Ha!" –here he laughed in a not-terribly-convincing manner– "it really is astonishing, the things people will believe! Still, desperate times call for desperate measures, and I am willing to take the risk. Luck is on our side tonight anyway– these craven Elf-friends clearly have not the courage to make an attempt on my life yet, so there is time."
The Envoy instructed his new pupil for several hours, exclaiming frequently at the speed with which the Haradian picked up the rudiments of sorcery.
"There's one thing I'm curious about," the Black Númenórean said in a moment of relaxation, between sips of fine coffee (certainly not Nogrod's).
"Did you kill Eruhen? You needn't be afraid to tell me– I never liked him, you know."
"Well, I–" the Acolyte began.
"Wait!" said the Envoy, holding up a hand. In a moment the Acolyte heard it too: the sound of soft footsteps– they seemed to be made by two or three pairs of feet– coming up the stairs. Then there was silence, broken only by a faint whispering outside the door.
The Envoy's grey eyes slitted. "It seems our lesson is to be interrupted after all." He led the Acolyte to the room's one window. "One at least of us must survive. You have learned quicker than I thought possible– and I am confident now you will choose the right path."
"But what about you?"
"Me? Oh, it will be enough if I can take this–" the Envoy's face twisted into a snarl, "this Gondorian rabble with me!" He drew a black, evil-looking dagger, worked with strange symbols around the hilt.
As the Acolyte hesitated on the sill, nervous of the longish drop to the ground, the door shuddered under a rain of heavy blows.
"Go!" screamed the Envoy. Even as the Acolyte jumped, the door crashed open, and three figures burst into the room, swords drawn. (The Acolyte did not have time to make out their features.)
Winded by the fall, the Acolyte could only gasp for breath and listen to the sounds coming from above– battle cries and curses in several languages, screams, the clash of steel, the strange burning and sizzling noises as the Envoy threw his magic into the fray.
All was quiet by the time the Acolyte had recovered enough to creep indoors, and peer cautiously around a corner at the staircase– which three figures were even then descending.
The Acolyte fled, but not before hearing them say to one another, "What a fight that foul sorcerer put up– but our victory is all the sweeter. Nogrod is avenged at last!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Living
Boromir88 –Wealthy mûmak breeder.
Sally –Messenger girl.
Shasta –Particularly attentive guard-lieutenant.
Pomegranate –Entertainer.
A Little Green –The Empress's favourite snake-charmer.
Pitchwife –Captain in the "Provisional Royal Númenórean Navy" and emissary of Angamaitë IX, Lord of Umbar.
Lottie –Accident-prone sorcerer's apprentice.
Inziladun –Minister of the Treasury.
Lommy! –Court physician.
Dead
The Empress of Harad. Mod.
–assassinated in her sleep.
Bom Tombadillo –Greatly afflicted beggar. Ordo.
–multiple stab wounds.
Eruhen –Court eunuch. Ordo.
–burned to death on the Empress's funeral pyre.
Rikae –Empress's handmaiden. Royal Executioner.
–garotted with own wire.
Nogrod –Camel and coffee trader. Spy.
–poisoned with own merchandise.
Galadriel55 –Professional assassin. Captain of the Guard.
–neck broken in stairwell fight.
Legate of Amon Lanc –Legate of Khand. Ordo.
–crushed to death by an enormous waggon.
Steve –Court Jester (from Umbar). Envoy of Morder.
–sliced up by the spies on Night Four.
Day Four has begun.