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Night4 falls
When the third day in the pit came closer to an end, the Elves had not reached an agreement.
"We want to lynch Skip," Loslote, Nerwen, Green and Legate said.
"We want to lynch Legate," Ozban, Skip, Wilwarin and Inziladun said.
Both parties were relentless, and the rest thought the conflict stupid because they wanted someone else entirely to die. No one listened to them.
"Well then if you can't reach a conclusion, why not let fate decide?" asked Boromir, one of those who took neither side.
"That would be the fairest," Nogrod said quickly, himself staying out of the quarrel as well.
"I say we have them arm-wrestle. That will tell us enough," said Eönwë with a cunning look on his face.
Not having better propositions, the crowd agreed. Skip and Legate sat down, locked their hands and started arm-wrestling. Neither of them wanted to die, and both of them were experinced as hunters and thus not light of arm. But in the end Legate beat Skip: after all, the jeweller was by profession also a smith and thus his arms were used to hard work, but Skip used most of his days just writing sonnets to his beautiful Lady Finduilas.
Eönwë smiled. "So let us kill Legate then."
"What?!" shouted Legate, Green, Nerwen and Loslote in a chorus.
"Yes," said Eönwë. "You saw what happened to Glirdan last night. These foul beings have incredible strength. Thus, one of them would be strong."
"I think that makes sense," Boromir agreed and the ones who had wanted to see Legate dead agreed eagerly.
"So let us kill Legate," said Nogrod, who tended to end up as a judge.
Legate wasn't very surprised when he heard his companions wanted to kill him. It seemed fitting to die in the darkness, to die of the darkness. Legate had never imagined he could survive days in a place like the pit, after all, one thing he cherised above many others was the pure white light.
"So I would die where our Seer died. Take me to the pit," he said.
"Not a werewolf with our brave hero!" Ozban protested, but Nerwen gave him such a sour look that he quit complaining.
"Isn't it enough he dies?" Loslote asked, irritated.
They took Legate there, and Skip and Wilwarin grabbed his shoulders.
"Any last words?" asked Inziladun.
"Only this," said Legate. "Here it's darkness, darkness, darkness. Always the darkness, not even the briefest period of light, just the hours of slightly lesser darkness where you can see vague shapes if you really try. It's difficult to see anything clearly in the dark, and thus I forgive you."
"I see," said Nogrod.
"I think that's enough," said Boromir.
"Let him go," said Eönwë, and Wilwarin and Skip pushed Legate over the side.
Long he fell and he cried when he hit the bottom of the pit. There wasn't the slightest echo of wolvish howl to his death cry.
~*~
The Dead
Thinlómien (mod) - murdered in cold blood on Night1
Shastanis (seer) - cast to the pit in the pit on Day1
Pitch (ordo) - driven crazy and throttled in his fur scarf on Day2
Glirdan (ranger) - decapitated by a wolf's paw on Night3
Legate (ordo) - fell to the pit on Day3
The Living
Green - veteran hunter with a striking resemblance to an opossum
Boromir - incompetent gatewarden
Eönwë - hunter
Inziladun - weaponsmith
Loslote - young tag-along girl with frizzy hair
Nerwen - young and impatient hunter who makes animal statues of wood and likes the colour green
Nogrod - narcoleptic master-hunter
Ozban - young and naive hunter and admirer of Finrod Felagund
Skip - an admirer of Finduilas's
Wilwarin - hunter
Night4 has started. You all know what to do.
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