Deep beneath Dwimorberg Rysha knelt before the wight, Cersed. The black hood she wore fell forward and covered her face, but from under the rim, Rysha still saw the green glow of the wight, and felt the piercing cold.
"The Lord Gorthroth sends a message." She said softly, though she served Gorthroth more directly, Cersed was her master as well. She bent closer to the ground. "A group of dwarves and men comes this way." The temperature in the room changed as Cersed reacted to this news with anger. Rysha shivered. "The Lord Gorthroth..." Rysha knew how to play this, Cersed would be angry if she said Gorthroth commanded, Rysha knew better than to make Cersed angry. "Lord Gorthroth requests your assistance, together to remove this threat to your treasures."
Rysha cast back her hood and looked up at the insubstantial being, waiting for an answer to take back to her master.
[ April 28, 2003: Message edited by: Sophia the Thunder Mistress ]
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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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