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In his wild rush down the corridor, Lindir was the first to burst inside the outer chamber. Oblivious to the danger that lay within, he rushed forward just at the moment when Endamir leapt to his feet with blade outstretched, jealously guarding his brother's body.
Lindir twisted to one side to avoid the slashing blade that threatened to descend upon his head, hastily pivotting while retreating to the far side of the room. Lindir's sword slipped from his hand and clattered useless to the ground. Whether this act was intentional or not, it is impossible to say. Whatever the cause, Lindir now uttered soft, even words in a soothing voice that a mother might use with her crying babe. "Nay, Endamir. No more blood. Lay down your blade, as I have done. Stay with your brother as long as you wish. Then, when you are ready, tell us how we may honor him together."
Lindir took one step towards the grieving elf and then halted, waiting to see what he would do.
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