[Novnarwen]

Rhând

He broke out of the orc's ranks, having called for them as he'd been surprised by Zuromor. The desperate Haradrim pressed himself forwards, trying to avoid both the fighting prisoners and the attacking orcs. Holding the little suverah he had left carefully in his hand, he decided to do what he came here to do, regardless of everything else. This came first. He did this for his Master, the Master who would embrace him as an equal when this was over. Giggling just slightly to himself, still running, he watched the prisoners defend themselves. Yes, he could still do this; actually, he ought to do it. He knew that by leaving the suverah in the prisoner's camp, problems would probably arise. Hopefully, they would have great difficulties seeing due to the smoke. Some of them might faint too, as they had not realised that the smoke was poisonous. With these thoughts it mind, he carried on.

For a second he stopped, being rather surprised by the orc's attack. It seemed like they were increasing in number; their attack was so violent. They were fighting like mad. All of them had this look in their eyes, the same look Lurg had given Rhând just earlier. The look reflected their hunger and their longing for fresh meat and blood. Even though he enjoyed watching this, he froze. Standing still as if paralysed with fear, he looked admirably at the. They were some fantastic creatures after all, he thought to himself. It was rather incredible how they could scare a living creature to death only by staring at it. The prisoners wouldn't stand a chance. Yes, he knew how this would end. Still standing quietly, watching the battle take place, he imagined the moment the victory was a fact. He imagined the prisoners lying on the ground; pale as the moon. How beautiful. The task of conquering this world, wiping away all life that was jeopardising His realm, would be a bit easier. Ten down, that was a start.

He wasn't paying attention to the events taking place that particular moment. Caught up in his dream, his fantasy, he didn't see some of the orcs heading straight towards him. Unfortunately, the young Haradrim was not able to react on the short notice and was run over by the massive creatures. Feeling the pain their heavy boots left him, he sank helplessly to the ground. He heaved for air, feeling as he was gong to vomit. "Ugh," he sighed, shaking with pain. "Brutes!" he screamed and cursed in the Haradrim tongue. "You blind idiots! Didn't you see I was standing here?" he screamed after the orcs, knowing that they didn't hear him. And if they did, they didn't care. "Outrageous!" he screamed again. He was their superior. At least, he was almost their superior. They should thank him. They should be grateful. It was after all he who had led them to the prisoners. It was he who had planned the attack. It was he who had secured their victory over the prisoners. It was therefore he who had saved all of them from the fate that awaited them, if they hadn't killed and brought back the bodies of the prisoners.

He coughed.

His throat went dry.

He coughed again.

He tried getting to his feet, but in vain. Being surprised by this intense coughing, he discovered that the air in front of him was turning yellow. Where does this come from? he asked himself, lifting his head up from the ground and turning into every direction. He felt his throat going drier, and his eyes were burning. What is this, and where is the suverah? Trying not to panic as he understood that this yellow smoke was making him cough and his eyes burn, he tried again to lift himself from the ground. "Where is it?" he said, letting out a cry. Not being able to see much, partly because of the dark and partly because of the smoke, which was making his eyes smart, he shook with fright. Desperately, he tried to crawl away, thinking that he had dropped the suverah on the ground when falling. The suverah was probably somewhere near.. "Probably somewhere near.." he muttered to himself, afraid that he was correct in this assumption.

Flashbacks from the cell room were presented to him. The smell of rot streaming into his nostrils, made him shiver with disgust. The rats were squeaking, the volume rising. The sound of them made him twitch where he lay. He tried to ignore it, but the sound was growing more intense. It was piercing through him, like an arrow made of solid material. He kicked in thin air, hearing a sound as he hit something. Yellow smoke arose before him. The Suverah, he thought, while feeling the pain. It was spreading. The pain was spreading, making its way from his head to his arms, chest and legs. His throat was too dry to let him swallow. He coughed again, his body trembling. Suddenly, his head exploded. The squeaking was gone. Everything was. There was nothing, except the sound of what seemed like a wind; a whispering wind close to his ear. He lay motionless on the ground, having his eyes open. He could still eye the yellow smoke surrounding him, swirling elegantly around.

He was there again. He was standing before the Gate. It was the Gate he had seen in dream when the others had been discussing the route. He dragged himself forth and knocked solemnly on the Door. No sound could be heard from within the Gate, but there was this magical atmosphere which attracted him and made him stand still. There was a certain tension in the air, as if something was about to happen. Taking everything into account, he started doubting whether this was the vision he had had in his dream, or whether it was something else; a new dream. How could he tell the difference? he wondered.

There was a loud crack and the door opened. Did he dare approach it? Did he dare go inside? What was in there, anyway? Was He waiting for him? But the task he had been set to do was not yet completed. It was still to be done. Was He satisfied yet? He took a few steps forwards, hearing the door slam shut behind him. He looked around. There was nothing there, or rather, it was just black.

Suddenly he found himself lying on the ground, yellow smoke surrounding him.

He heaved after his breath.

It was just black. It was all black.