[Legate of Amon Lanc]

"It is settled, then," said Lhuna. "It's you, Nogrod."
The old man's eyebrow rose. "You surely don't know what you are talking about. I am not in any way connected with these hounds of Morgoth!"
"But we chose you," said the guy who be short, picking up a long rope. "Come on, do not prolongate it."
Nogrod gave the short guy a scornful look. "What do you want me to do? Let myself bound up like a dog? There is no way you make me do it."
"But we – we chose you," stammered Isabellkya. The outlaws gave each other uncertain looks. The old man was sitting, almost leaning his back against the wall, but everyone saw his muscles stretching, he was ready to move in a moment. Nogrod was old and short, but stout and strong man, and most of them knew he could defeat one of them in a fight without any trouble.
"We have to move together," said Macalaure. "Let's take the weapons and surround him. He cannot face us all..."
Angered, Nogrod jumped up. "Youngsters!" he shouted. "That's what happens always when they gain power! Young blood, no senses! Look at yourselves!"
He lifted up his hands. "I am unarmed. And there is good seven of you, and still you are afraid of me. I am not a werewolf, damn you! Those you seek are among you!"
"We are not afraid of you," said Rikae. "If you attempt something, I can finish you, even though I am older. You saw it the first day."
"And that's exactly how it's going to end," said Nogrod. "Fools! I am not a werewolf!"
"That's what we shall see," said the guy who be short.
"Enough talk! Let's kill him!" cried Macalaure. To encourage his companions, he picked up a short spear that was laying near the wall.
Nogrod reached to his belt. The drawn blade glinted in the light of lamps hanging from the ceiling. "I am not going to get myself killed! This is the last warning!"
But the outlaws finally decided to move. The guy who be short charged at Nogrod with sword drawn, but the old man parried his blow with such strength that the attacker was hurled backwards. Turning, Nogrod avoided Macalaure's strike and slashing with his sword, he cut the spear in half.
Suddenly, Brinn sprang up in front of the condemned outlaw. There was a glimmer of a blade and then an iron clash.
"You almost surprised me," muttered Nogrod, in the last moment stopping the blow few inches far from his throat. "You are quick, young girl," he said, "but you are also weak," and with force, he pressed Brinn's blade further from himself. But at the same moment Isabellkya leapt to his side and taking advantage of the old man's momentary incautiousness, she stabbed her dagger deep in his back. Voicelessly, Nogrod tumbled to the ground, dropping his sword; and falling on his face between his bag, his tea-cup and the last slice of bread, the old man died.

"Was he a wolf?" was the first question asked.
The outlaws surrounded the dead body. No change was seen.
"Oh, no," came through Lhuna's lips.
"Another night full of fear," muttered Mithalwen.
"Damn it!" said Brinn. "I was sure we were right this time."
"Apparently not," said Rikae. "Gah! But I fear this loss may prove deadly for many of us."
"If there is even hope for us," said Macalaure, turning away.

The inhabitants of Amon Rûdh – dead:

Ibun son of Mîm, killed by a Werewolf on Night 1
Shasta alias Saeros, outnumbered and stabbed on Day 1
Xyzzy the Outlaw, stoned to death on Day 2
Nogrod the old Outlaw, caught off his guard on Day 3

The inhabitants of Amon Rûdh – living:
Mîm the Petty Dwarf, outside the hill for an unexpectably prolonged period
Rikae
Macalaure
Isabellkya
Brinniel
Lhunardawen
Gil-Galad, outside the hill for an unexpectably prolonged period
the guy who be short
Mithalwen

Night 4 begins. Outlaws sleep. Túrin, Beleg and werewolves discuss. Whoever has anything to send, PM me ASAP.