[Meneltarmacil]

"What is your name?" Thoronmir asked the prisoner.

"I ain't tellin' you." the man replied, and spit at the Ranger.

"You will tell me your name, or I will be forced to leave you here. In this environment, far away from civilization, I doubt a blind man could live for very long. It would be much better to die quickly than to choose that alternative."

"I still ain't tellin' you, western scum!" he said defiantly.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Thoronmir said. "You leave me no choice but to stab you with this razor-sharp knife I found. Oh, you'll still be alive, of course. But if you don't bleed to death first, the wild animals will find your trail easily and kill you. Unless you tell me what I want to know."

Thoronmir was only bluffing, but he made it sound like he was serious. He pulled out the knife he had found and pressed the tip ever so carefully against the man's flesh.

"Don't do it! I'll talk!" the prisoner cried.

"Good decision," Thoronmir said, putting the knife away. "What is your name?"

"Boris," the prisoner answered.

"And where did you come from?" Thoronmir continued his questioning.

"I'm from Bree, myself, but the Master came from Down South and said I'd be paid lots o' gold if I joined him." said Boris.

"And you have no idea who he is?" asked Thoronmir.

"That's right," said the man. "I ain't got no clue."