[Lumiel]

As they traveled, Lumiel talked softly with Gorby, talking of matters of little importance to hold back the weight of Fornost. Soon though, an eerie silence seemed to pervade everything, and they all fell silent. They soon came upon the ruined manse, shrunken and decrepit but bloated with death and misery.

Thoronmir split them up and they tried to discover the secrets of those who had taken Eodwine. Lumiel went with Finewen, and they said nothing as they went away from the manse to search for any sheds as they had been instructed. They quickly found what they were looking for. It was a slovenly shed, with only enough room for two people. It was empty and filled with dust, but it held no secrets that they could see.

They exited and went on searching. Not far away, yet hidden well amongst shrubbery and a few scraggly trees, was a door that blended into the surroundings fairly well. Lumiel had been the first to sight it and the two women headed towards it. When they approached the door, it seemed to be well-kept, the door was not rusty or blackened as the shed had been. Finewen grabbed an indentation on the surface of the door and pulled but it would not give.

"Lumiel, grab here, on the count of three, we'll pull." said Finewen. Lumiel nodded an agreement and Finewen spoke again. "One - two - three!"

They yanked hard on the door and it swung open with a whooshing noise that swept a breeze past their faces. Finewen stepped back at the nauseating smell and Lumiel gave a sour face. She was used to odd odors, and even most unpleasant ones did not phase her. But this was more than that, it smelled of an unspoken horror. Beyond the threshhold the light of the day penetrated only about five feet because of the angle of the sun. Lumiel stepped forward and through the door with uncertainty, Finewen following.

It was a stone tunnel, well-made at that. There were racks along the wall for torches, but most were missing. As they entered deeper, the light faded to an ephemereal glow that gave both the woman the palor of the dead. The stench grew and they made a turn in the tunnel, slanting down the floor deeper into the ground. Before them were several doors, each heavily bolted with only a blocked slot at the very bottom, presumably for food. One door was open and Finewen went to the door to see what she could find. Lumiel saw several bones along the edge of the floor, most of them raggedly cracked, as though some great force had shattered them. She pressed on, attempting to ignore the scene of death and the wrenching of her stomach and her head that threatened to cast her to the ground and opened another, different door. It did not have the same appearance as the others, it was not made to imprison. She opened it and it rusted loudly on its hinges, creaking loud enough that Lumiel instinctively looked over her shoulder to make sure that nothing had been woken by its metal scream.

Inside was a table, a turned-over chair, and several lamps. Across the paper were strewn papers and a dingy quill beside a spilled bottle of ink. Touching her fingers to the ink, she found that it was cold, but dry. She carefully separated the quill and bottle from the paper and set them aside. She had caused minimal damage to the papers and she tried to discern what was written on them. Even her elven sight was of little help. AS she was gathering the papers, she saw a seal stamp on the floor. Bending over it, she took it in her hands and tried to make out its symbol, again to no avail. Anxious to leave, she turned on a heel and eagerly left the room. Further up the hall was Finewen.

"I think I found the Keeper's room. There were several papers and a seal stamp, but I can't make out what they say in this light. What did you find?" she asked as she approached her.

"This place was not only a prison, it was a place of torture. There were shackles on the wall and bowls just out of reach of them. Further down there's a cell in the floor, filled with oil. I couldn't tell how deep it was but...there are few beneficial uses for such things. The bones tell tales as surely as the walls." she said. She seemed to be in pain of some sort, but Lumiel couldn't blame her. Whoever had been kept her had not lived the remainder of their life in peace. They had been brutally, cruelly killed. "There was also a few rusted knives, whips and the like about. Most of them seemed to have the same design on the handles, but I could not see them properly."

Lumiel nodded and spoke, "I think we've found all that we can here. I see no purpose in staying any longer." Finewen heartily agreed and they quickly found their way out of the tunnel and into the warm sunlight. Away from the stench of decay and blood, Lumiel realized that the hand that held the papers was shaking slightly. There had been more within that hellhole, but she did not have the heart to search out its evil treasures of blood.

Looking at the papers, she saw that names were written on and other things, but she couldn't make sense of exactly what they were or why they were written. She would give it to Thoronmir, perhaps he could figure it out. Shifting the papers to the other hand, she held up the stamp. On it was a hideous skull, its jaw open in the impression of its last death cry. A snake slimed its way from one of the eye sockets and around the rim of the skull. She felt a wave of nausea pass over her and she clenched the stamp tightly in her fist, hiding it from view. "What do they say? The papers and the stamp?" asked Finewen.

"I can't understand what the meaning of the writing is...there seems to be names and other words, but I don't understand." She paused. "The stamp is a skull with a snake. They had much experience with the correct shape of a skull, I think, to create such a thing of horror." The all-too-real image cast upon the stamp filled her mind for an instant and she spoke again to clear it. "Do you see any other sheds around Finewen?" she asked as she looked for Thoromir and the others within her sight.