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Time stopped as Deorgast stood there, dagger in hand. A woman stood as well in front of him, a blank gaze on her icy eyes and blood dripping from her chest, as Deor's dagger stood sharply buried within it. She coughed some blood before giving Deor a final look and her knees failing, making her drop dead to the ground. Deor observed in despair as the corpse laid there, letting go of the dagger as soon as he felt her falling.
It was a fine afternoon when a gathering started to form on the yard of the Dawnhall. At the corner, by a small hill, a hole disturbed the earth, one that was set to be Hardoleth's, The Captain of the Bloddy Dawn, final home.
By the fire Deorgast sat, near his tent set in the Old Forest. He had just crossed the borders of The Shire to observe the river that flows under the Brandywine Bridge, under heavy rain that fell through all morning.