((With thanks to Elendraen for writing the first part, as well as Kirsti for coming up with the idea in the first place and Miji, Duissane, Huinen, Gilandros, Mod, Faerlir and many others for participating!))
The Lossoth woman had arrived out of the snow with a prisoner.
Was she not worried about being brought to an armed host? Clearly, she had the advantage of the native, but even so she was trusting the prisoner to have - at least on the surface - no ill intent. A mixture of distrust and good judgement... or was it?
Her Westron was broken, but understandable. She looked at the wanderers with distrust, a distrust not born out of anger but necessity. A relic of dark magic had been found in these lands recently, and the chieftains had ordered the lands closed to strangers. Nevertheless, Angmarim were crossing the borders.
"This is ill news." Nimlith looked over the icy bay and the lands beyond it, glowing in the sunset. Their gathering had intended to be a peaceful one, but the tale of the rune had unsettled her. She had waited until the songs and music were over to share the news with the gathering, but it could bear no more delay.
"The Lossoth should be our allies, but they cannot aid us if they are beset in their own lands."
"What shall we do then?"
"We have no choice but to investigate. We are here on leave of the Lossoth, and we must prove our friendship."
She looked at the Lossoth, asking her to again draw the rune in the snow that she had spoken of.
The woman obliged with a shrug, masking a shudder at the sight of the evil-looking sign.
Nimlith raised her arms, waited for silence.
"My friends."
She paused for a moment, pondering her words.
"We wished to stay here in peace. But it seems that tonight, again war has been brought to us."
She spoke a silent word, and in the twilight the rune began to glow for a moment, with a faint were-light.
"This rune, this message... it is a sign of the enemy. It may mean danger to many, or just the people of this country. Nevertheless, we must investigate."
Again, she looked at her friends. Some were still in warlike attire, fitting these dangerous lands. Others...
"Where has this... mark been inscribed?" Gilandros looked at the woman.
The Lossoth pondered. "Iron men. Ironspan, we call it."
Miji scratched her head. "Iron men? Do you mean Angmarim?"
Gilandros looked grim. "If it does, what it means is trouble for the Lossoth."
The woman pouted. "Not many. We can take them."
She shrugged, adding: "But, the night. Nights in our land, the not give us the means to sneak past them guard."
She pointed at the darkening sky. "Bright lights, colour our nights."
Nimlith pondered, looking at her friends. "Huinen, have you a suggestion?"
"Let me think." He looked at the gathering. "First... how many are going to make the journey?"
"I will force no one. You came here for peace, not for war." The elf looked grim. "Those who wish to follow me, gather your weapons at the village, and let her guide us to the place."
"A diversion." The elf named Tuaran pointed at the lights in the sky. "If we can set a fire..."
"Perhaps. Fires are visible far here in the night." Elendraen nodded.
"Let us make our way before we decide." Huinen beckoned to the host. "We shall ride."
More than Nimlith had expected were following. She felt a pang of guilt at having to leave behind those who had come for peace and music. But it could not be helped.
Even from afar, she could feel dread and shadow. Something evil was at work here, and the Lossoth had been right to feel worried. But looking at the place from behind a snowy cliff, there was another problem.
"The camp is larger than the Lossoth had said." Elendraen frowned. "We will draw attention, we are too many."
Gilandros nodded grimly. "Where is the rune?"
Nimlith frowned. "The air is thick with its evil here. I cannot sense..."
Nimlith beckoned to the Lossoth woman who had scouted ahead.
"Iron bridge." She pointed. "In... there."
"Inside the fortress?" Miji tried to remember her few words of Lossothian. "Far... in?"
"Yes."
Huinen eyed the stone towers rising up before them. "We cannot take the main entrance. Is there another way in?"
The woman - she was hardly full-grown yet, not by the standards of more civilised Men - nodded, then drew a rough map of the keep in the snow. "There."
Nimlith looked at her, admiring her bravery. "What is your name?"
"Kirsti."
"Kirsti. Will you lead me to it?"
"Yes." She nodded again.
"Stay with me. I will protect you."
The Lossoth snorted derisively. Even if she did not speak Westron well, she clearly understood what was being said to her.
"There are too many." Huinen frowned. "A diversion will not work."
Nimlith bit her lip. "I do not wish to kill..."
Suddenly, from behind an alarm sounded. "We are discovered! We must move."
Elendraen appeared from the edge of the hill, ducking for cover. "They are surrounding us, Nimlith! Take a decision, and do it quick!"
The elf looked up.
"Kirsti." She pointed to the gate. "Lead on." To the others, "Give me cover!"
They dashed away, towards the gate guards. Behind them, arrows started whistling through the air. She saw Duissane, Gilandros and Huinen pass her, swords drawn, overwhelming the guards. At her word, the gate crumbled, the way into the keep clear.
Nimlith felt the rune before she could see it. The strength of evil in the stone courtyard was tangible, and she could feel her friends recoil as well. A fog of dread seemed to hang over the courtyard. The defenders were fighting like wild men, like demons. Sensing them, their minds were also clouded, full of dread and anger.
"There." The Lossoth woman pointed.
This close, the power of the rune was overwhelming. Nimlith tried to approach but could only move slowly. She forced herself to walk up to it, put her hand next to it.
"So, what is it?"
Nimlith tried to gather her thoughts, concentrate despite the darkness filling her mind, screaming at all her senses.
"It is... the evil.. so much killing... darkness..."
Duissane watched her friend worriedly. "We have not much time. Do what you came to do and we must flee!" The warrior thrust her bloodied swords into the snow. "Can you destroy it?"
Nimlith shook her head. "The rune... it is a sign of the Enemy... but to what end, I do not know. I will attempt to... but I don't think I can."
"Do not break it." Faerlir looked at the doors of the keep worriedly. "Perhaps it is a seal? The doors here are closed by some evil magic."
"Aye... But what does it hold back?" Huinen frowned.
"I need to test it." Nimlith concentrated, then set the small stone knife she always carried at the rune.
The recoil came at once and without warning. A shock running through her arm, then her entire body, she stumbled a few steps backward, struggling to stay upright.
The rune seemed almost unchanged, but the air now seemed slightly less unsavoury. The elf walked up to it, picking up her knife from the ground.
Her tongue seemed heavy as lead. "We cannot stay here. Let us flee."
"Quickly now." Huinen rallied the others. "The enemy return..."
Nimlith could not remember having run out of the keep. But here she was, among trees, away from the stone walls and the influence of the rune. She sat down heavily against the tree's rough bark, leaning her forehead on her closed fists. The memory of the fighting flooded back to her, swords red with blood. The snow in front of her seemed also flecked with blood... had she spilled it?
"Please...," she murmured. "No more killing..."
The darkness inside... the death-rune... was it leading even us to kill? Is this what falling to the shadow feels like? Is it what made these men kill?
A hand on her shoulder. "Nimlith... come."
She looked up, trying to clear her mind from the thoughts of shadow.
Her great-grandniece appeared between the trees. "Auntie Nimlith?" She looked at the elder Elf worriedly. "I have to go to Yrjänä. Warn him. He might remember me."
Nimlith nodded, then spoke with some difficulty. "You do that, Miji." Slowly, her hands still closed, she stood up.
"I have to bring this to Imladris."
She opened her hand. In it was a small, dark sliver of the relic-stone, flecked with blood where the knife-sharp corner had cut into her palm.
"Perhaps Lord Elrond will know more about the stone and the reason for its being here."
Whincing, she closed her fingers around the relic again. A deadly cold seemed to take hold of her and she stumbled.
"Nimlith... let me help you." The elf-hunter was by her side, steadying her. "Take my arm."
She grasped the arm thankfully.
"Come. I shall escort you."
"My horse..." She gestured towards the hill.
"We shall find it."
"Thank you, captain..." she whispered. "...Togestel..."
Finally in the saddle, she closed her eyes again. Around her, the mist was falling. Dark figures seemed to swirl in the shadows. Exhausted, she trusted herself to the horse and let her spirit wander in dark dreams...
