Nephil was the one to be pulled from battle this time, but only because he did not know that they were retreating once more.
Corith had pulled him away from his battle with the Quendi, a battle that had succeeded in draining Nephil's strength.
As the survivors ran from the room, Nephil supported by Corith, he thought over what had happened.
"I never had a chance to think," he said to his cousin, "I had to keep moving. It is so fast. So fast. The small ones are strong, but slow. And the ones... that are like us... are strong, but slower than we are. But that Quendi..."
"Quiet," said Corith, setting him down when they reached another room," Rest. I'll be back."
It took a moment for Nephil to get his bearings, but after he recieved a bowl of water he was refreshed a bit and could look around. A noise at the far edge of the cave made him stand painfully up and walk over.
One of the small warriors had been captured! it was in the process of being bound, which was not an easy thing to do and took quite a number of Rhunians to accomplish.
A sound behind him and he knew Maulka was there. He turned to talk to her, but her eyes widened when she saw him.
"Oh my..." she said, "What happened to you?"
Nephil looked down on himself. He was covered from foot to chest with shallow gashes, which had been made by the Quendi's sword.
Nephil drew one of his knives and looked at his reflection in the polished metal.
Great cuts scarred his face, one coming dangerously close to his eye.
His leather armor was in tatters, and his hair tie was missing.
"You fought the Quendi?" asked Maulka.
Nephil nodded," and I'm surprised I got off this lucky," he said.
He turned back to thier captive. Those who had bound him, though successful, were now nursing bruises. No one seemed to want to get near him.
Nephil dropped to his knees in front of the bound warrior. In a loud clear voice, he said, "Who are you? Of what manner of creature are you? And, above all, why do you tresspass in our home?"
Nephil waited, hoping it could understand him.
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