[Thinlómien]

The lordlings were very grieved by adorable Lady Kath's death, in fact, so grieved that many of them could only cry and sob in the corners and not discuss the murder. Worst of all was poor Warlord Groin, who had already been badly upset by Lady Lómiel's death – now he was totally distraught. He had not said a single word in the public discussion, just mumbled something about taking his own life. No one paid much attention to his whispered threats, though...

The gloominess did not affect all, in fact, many of the guests were discussing just as actively as the day before, but still nearly a third of them refused to state any opinion on who should be killed. They had had enough innocent blood... or so they thought.

There was a heated debate whether they should get rid of Eomer, the houndmaster, or Lord Eönwë, and no conclusion could be reached. After some debate, they were getting impatient...

”What if you just kill them both?”

The guests froze. Lord Thinroz, whom they had not seen for the whole day, had silently walked into the room.

”That's what you want, right? More bloodshed in my house. Kill each oher, kill, kill all of yourselves, I don't care. You murderers.”

The guests eyes each other unsurely. However mad their host appeared, they did not want to insult him, truly, it would have been against all old codes of hosts and guests. So, after a pause, Captain Nogrod ventured:

”Don't you really have a preference, my lord? We cannot quite reach a compromise...”
”Preference? Ha! Of course I have a preference!” the old man cackled. ”Kill him!” He pointed at Eomer. ”Kill him! He was not grieved by my daughter's death, and he said he didn't care if everybody here died! Let him taste the sweetness of his own words, truly!”

The guests saw no better alternative than to obey their host. Those most strongly against Eomer were about to go to look for suitable weapons when Lord Thinroz stopped them. ”Nay! I said, let him taste it. So I say, let him taste how it is to be me, a man tortured by loss. Housekeeper! Bring my sleeping medicine! A tenfold dose. Now.”

The housekeeper, looking very pale, emerged from the kitchen in a few minutes. She was holding a mug full of dark green liquid.

”You have to drink it,” Wilwarin said to Eomer. Brinn and Legate walked to Eomer's sides and threatened him with knives.

”I got it, I got it!” he said. ”I'll have it. But just, don't think you made the right choice. And you, old man, I tell you, you're not going to leave this house alive, so don't gloat! You accuse me of bloodlust, yet you are even worse!”

That being said, he drank the potion. Almost immediately, he collapsed onto the table. Nothing in his body indicated that he had been a part of the murder conspiracy, nor did a search through his room reveal anything either.

Feeling even gloomier than in the morning, the guests retreated to their rooms.

~*~

Dead
Lommy (mod) - Lady Lómiel Starbrow, the hostess – killed on Night1
Isabellkya (ordo) - lynched on Day1
Kath (ordo) – killed on Night2
Eomer of the Rohirrim (ordo) - lynched on Day2

Alive
Nienna - pirate
Kent2010 - Black Númenórean scam artist
Legate of Amon Lanc - rebelling Haradian King
Nogrod - Corsair Captain "The Cat O' Nine tails of Ethir Anduin"
Shastanis Althreduin - King of the Sea
wilwarin538 - sorceress
Nerwen - Queen of the Sea
Nilpaurion Felagund - fussy courtier
Rune Son of Bjarne - Tivo the Sorceror
Lhunardawen - rebelling Haradian Queen
Groin Redbeard - Variag Warlord of Khand
satansaloser2005
Eönwë
Brinniel

Night3 has begun. Un-ordos, you know what to do.