Silence decended as the strangers burst into the room.
For a moment that seemed to strech for an eternity, they stared at each other, the Rhunian natives just as shocked as the intruders.
The look on the faces of the small ones in the doorway was different, however. The shock on thier faces was mingled with pure horror and fear. It was clear, to Nephil at any rate, that they had not meant to come into that room.
The moment ended as an arrow was fired. It hit one of the incomers, a glancing blow, but it started the battle again.
Maulka seemed overjoyed at the new opportunity for battle, and entered into it as if she had never stopped. Corith, while caught off gaurd, improvised with a large smithing hammer he carried with him, stuck into his belt.
Nephil tried to remain calm as the mysterious Quendi stepped into the room. His kinsman's words echoed in his mind:
"...They are like men, but different. They cannot die..."
"We will see," said Nephil to himself. He leapt over one of the small axe-weilders and threw his spear with all his strength.
The Quendi moved faster than breath, the spearhead burying itself into the rock wall not inches from his head.
Nephil crossed his arms and unsheathed his knives. They shone in the firelight, dripping with fresh poison.
The sounds of battle seemed to drift away, as if it were happening in the next room. Nephil could only see the Quendi, and the Quendi, for the first time, saw him.
Time stood still as the two began to fight.
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