It had been quite the night at the Huntsman and the Stag. Nimraph and Eira had confessed their feelings to each other, only after a cruel joke from Lycaon forced her bitterly silent anger. Lycaon had announced that a drinking game was to be held. On top of this, Eira became reacquainted with another like herself and Nimraph, Goldgel of Harad.
As the three had gathered around the table for the drinking game, a familiar dark presence walked into the inn. Kallan, the bandaged travel, had entered the Huntsman and the Stag. Then...
Then it all happened so fast.
Kalabnalu. Kalabnalu, one of Aglarzor's lesser spies, had found her out. He had attacked her. It all happened so fast. Nimraph had thrown a sword to her, and she made short work of the spy, who had never been brutally trained in Gorgoroth as she had. As he fell to the ground, coated in his blood, he only laughed.
"You can kill me, Nurnhoth slave, but you are too late to save yourself. When I recognized you, I sent a message to Aglarzor to make sure you were not under some deep cover mission. When he sent back his surprise, his betrayal, and his order to kill you, I was happy to follow the command, Aglarari."
She did not remember much of what happened after that. Only the shock. Only the terror. Only the sorrow. Only the panic.
She barely remembered the feeling of her sword moving, Kalabnalu stabbing himself with her blade. Oh, the terror. She barely remembered hyperventilating, gasping in pain. Oh, the panic. She barely remember falling into Nimraph's arms.
It all happened so fast...
