Aduchil breathed heavily, his hand on his swordhilt. He could not remember on any of his many travels to ever have been in such danger before. He noticed the uruks standing guard, and that they outnumbered the three elves many times. If they began fighting, he wasn't sure that they would all get out alive. He noticed Aman, and that Lindir was watching her. But his concern was Elrond right now. If possible, he would jump forward, grab the elf and get out of the chamber quickly. But Azruk was standing in the way. The uruk warlord spoke.
"Now, pathetic elves, what do you give us for the life of your lord?"
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Two beer or not two beer, that is the question; by Shakesbeer
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