[Child of the 7th Age]

The Diviner hastily unsheathed her sword and turned to face the Seneschal, springing towards him with a cry of triumph. How many years had she waited for this moment? Age after age had spun out in their endless sameness. She had waited for the days to pass by plotting her revenge. Someday Malris would return to Himring bringing his traitorous followers with him. They would pay dearly for what they had done. And one above all would be hers to command. Never would she forgive that milksop Lindir who had left her bones to rot on this windswept pile of rock. He would know the despair and terror that she had felt when the Orcs had swept over the Isle bringing their gift of living death.

Despite her slender form and ashen hue, the Diviner's face glowed with an unearthly light, one that spoke of an inner madness. In years long past, she had been a proud and haughty woman, determined to probe the secrets of earth and sky and thereby gain great knowledge and even greater power. Yet some tiny piece within had still been capable of showing an element of kindness to the craftsman Lindir, responding to his gentleness and love and to the beauty of his creations. He had taught her the secrets of his craft, not only the forging of blades but also how to fashion the lovely rings and brooches that had gained him such great esteem at court. But now, all that was gone, her last shred of Elven grace and gentleness swept away by the desire for revenge and the need to prove to the Seneschal that she would be the one to determine their fate.

If truth be told, the Diviner was tired of the game that she had devised inside her head. Yet she would agree to play it just one more time. Let the Seneschal think that the six Elves would rot in this living grave and that the great pile of skeletons would lie mouldering in the cavern along with the other little caches of bones, scattered and tossed about the island. If Lindir met his death here, that would please her immensely. Eventually, she would show the remaining Elves the secret grotto and force them to say the words of power that would set the bones at rest. While the Diviner had no special love of Mandos, she was too tired of unending existence in shadow to go on forever in this houseless state. But these fools did not have to know that.....not for a good long while. She was in no immediate hurry. Meanwhile, she would bully them into being her slaves, just as that other worthless woman had bullied the Orcs into serving her needs. For now, she wanted no one to approach the cavern, least of all the Seneschal. That was her source of power and control. These jumbled reflections flitted through her mind in a single instant.

Whipping out a slender rapier, she brandished it in front of the Seneschal, giving a high pitched laugh completely filled with disdain, "You will never beat me with your foolish toy sword. We live in a world where bodies mean nothing. Go ahead. Thrust yourself forward and try. I have studied all things in these dark circles and will throw you back with the powers of the night."

Hurling her sword down so that the tip of the blade quivered in the ground, she thrust her hands upward as if to command the elements. As the Seneschal strode forward, she gave a howl and easily evaded the arc of his blade by flitting around him and lighting on an overhead beam. Rushing down, she wrenched free one of the torches that the outsider was holding, and turned to hurl it at the Seneschal. Immediately the wind picked up carrying the burning brand far across the enclosure.

Laughing horribly, she considered if her next act should be to command the winds to pick up the houseless spirit of the Seneschal and carry it far from the Isle, out over the Sea. That should eliminate his meddling for a while. The Diviner was not completely certain whether she possessed the power to do such a thing. Yet she was certainly happy to try. She stretched out her hand and called out in the ancient tongue, but before anything could happen, her concentration was broken by an insistent, familiar voice echoing inside her head. The fool Lindir was calling on her to come to his aid. Let the Orc do his evil deed. Let him know how she had felt. With a grin, she turned back to play with the Seneschal. Things were going exactly as she had hoped.