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***Mithadan*** · 06-21-2002, 08:05 AM

On the Elven vessel, a very concerned Idril was tending to Mithadan. He remained unconscious and his breathing was laboured. Yet, that he breathed at all was a marvel.

"How is it that you survived?" mused Idril. "The Wizard's blast should have slain you. Let us see..."

She undid his cloak and began to unbutton his shirt. Then she laughed. Scored and scorched as it was, it remained mirrorlike and beautiful. Under the shirt was a breastplate of pure mithril!

"He was not wearing this before," said Sam. "He had a light shirt of chainmail."

Idril carefully lifted the breastplate from Mithadan. His chest was bruised badly from the Wizard's attack. Idril examined the Man then stood. "He has some broken ribs but no worse. He will live," she said. She gathered the cloak to make a pillow for his head, but noticed something hard in its pocket. She removed a silver box which had buttons and lights on its face -- the REG.

"I think our riddle is answered," said Idril with a smile. "Mithadan's 'treachery' was well thought out and meticulously planned. Good for him, else we would be mourning his passing rather than tending his wounds."

06-21-2002, 08:05 AM	#11
*Mithadan* Spirit of Mist Join Date: Jul 2000 Location: Tol Eressea Posts: 3,398	On the Elven vessel, a very concerned Idril was tending to Mithadan. He remained unconscious and his breathing was laboured. Yet, that he breathed at all was a marvel. "How is it that you survived?" mused Idril. "The Wizard's blast should have slain you. Let us see..." She undid his cloak and began to unbutton his shirt. Then she laughed. Scored and scorched as it was, it remained mirrorlike and beautiful. Under the shirt was a breastplate of pure mithril! "He was not wearing this before," said Sam. "He had a light shirt of chainmail." Idril carefully lifted the breastplate from Mithadan. His chest was bruised badly from the Wizard's attack. Idril examined the Man then stood. "He has some broken ribs but no worse. He will live," she said. She gathered the cloak to make a pillow for his head, but noticed something hard in its pocket. She removed a silver box which had buttons and lights on its face -- the REG. "I think our riddle is answered," said Idril with a smile. "Mithadan's 'treachery' was well thought out and meticulously planned. Good for him, else we would be mourning his passing rather than tending his wounds." __________________ Beleriand, Beleriand, the borders of the Elven-land.