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Old 01-14-2008, 12:40 AM   #222
Gwathagor
Shade with a Blade
 
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Gwathagor is a guest of Elrond in Rivendell.Gwathagor is a guest of Elrond in Rivendell.Gwathagor is a guest of Elrond in Rivendell.
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The REAL First Kill

Like a shadow Jord passed through the press and din of the market. At its edge, she paused briefly, and looked back. Whether because of the crowded high street, or because of some dark magic she wove about herself, no one had noticed her. Satisfied, she moved out into the backstreets of the village, leaving in her wake a lingering sense of unease and disquiet, bickering merchants and fighting children. Her path, simultaneously following instinct and long-set purpose, led her down the narrow street of beaten dirt, every step bringing her steadily nearer to Khandr's lodgings.

The Borrim and their leader had been given a large house several streets over from the palace. As Jord neared it, alert and wary, she reached with her left hand into the wide sleeve of her gown and grasped a knife which she wore on her right forearm. The blade was long and slender, and forged of cold, dark, thirsty iron. It was a relic of her former life, before her humiliation at the hands of the elf-witch and her adoring minion. She clenched her teeth as the extent of her current disgrace again struck her full in the face. She had lost everything: her power, her shape, and even a measure of her Master's favor. All she had left was the cold knife, and this she now held in an iron grip. Many lives it had quenched, in the days of glory, when she had labored alongside Sauron at the will of Morgoth, but never had it tasted the blood of an Easterling. Jord smiled. Blood. It had been over-long since she, too, had tasted blood. Her smile was cruel, and there was no warmth in it.

I shall not fail him, she thought. I shall be restored, and Lord Morgoth shall reign. Jord turned the corner onto the street that led up to Khandr's house.

Her prey was before her. She stopped, but not out of surprise. Down the middle street strode Khandr, eyes cast down in thought, coming directly towards her. They were completely alone. Jord nearly laughed; it was absurd, and pitiful, and perfect.

Suddenly becoming aware of Jord, Khandr came to an abrupt halt ten feet from her. He froze, tense and hunched, his eyes narrowed, with the innate knowledge of a hunted creature that its end has come. Yet he did not waver. Swiftly he drew out twin daggers and raised them as he prepared to face the darkly clad woman that stood in his path, whose slight form belied the shadow that stretched out before her, ominous and threatening.

Jord was faster. She covered the distance between them with unnatural speed and silent ferocity, and leapt upon her prey, her face expressionless apart from a grim determination. They landed in a cloud of dust. It hung in the air for a moment, and then settled slowly to the ground, revealing a grim scene. Khandr lay on his back in the street, blood already beginning to trickle and pool about his head. Jord was on top of him, her right knee pressed into his chest. She had held his left shoulder in her right hand while with her left, she driven the dark knife straight through his throat as they fell. He never uttered a sound.

She pulled the knife from the wound, wiped the blood upon Khandr's cheek and stowed it again in her right sleeve. Still kneeling on his chest, she smiled and pulled his face closer to hers, looking as far back as she could into his eyes.

"You have failed, Lord Khandr."

She uttered the words mockingly, spitting them out, crushing down the dying embers of his spirit.

"Your death was appointed and could not have been otherwise. It was inevitable, for we...are...power. There was nothing you could have done. Take comfort in that, and in the knowledge that you will not be alone on your journey to the realm of the dead. Many more will follow after you; some sooner, some later. Many, many more: men, and elves. All appointed."

Her nails dug into his face. Her tone had become half-soothing, but she spoke now with a renewed contempt.

"The Ulfing lords will come to know what must be, as I already know it. They will betray your people and their liege lords. You have died for nothing. No cause, no purpose. You have accomplished nothing. Your death is meaningless. I am Thuringwethil and now I will taste your blood."

And she did, as with the last sparks of life Khandr's despairing eyes roved and his fingers twitched, searching, grasping for something...anything...

Last edited by Gwathagor; 01-14-2008 at 09:32 AM.
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