Isildur dropped the ring into the fiery pit of Mount Doom.
"There," he said, gasping. "'Tis done." A look of longing crossed his face.
Lord Elrond studied his human companion. "Yes, 'tis done. Let us descend this dreary place, and rid ourselves of this heavy load that was laid upon us."
"Of course," Isildur said. Both of the tired men worked their way down the mountain side and were rewarded with cheers of victory from their troops. All to sudden, an elf jumped straight and true at Isildur, dagger in hand.
A soldier sacrificed his life for his lord. Isildur drew his sword and chopped the elf's head off.
"What is this?" he asked. He slowly raised his gaze from his soldier's body, to Lord Elrond. "Are you not responsible for the elves, Elrond? Are you not an elf?"
Lord Elrond stared at Isildur. "To what dangers are you running into? Why do you accuse me without hesitating? Is our friendship unreal?"
"Do not try to fool me Elrond!" Isildur hissed. "I know what it is you want. You want my throne."
'Something is wrong with him,' Elrond thought. 'The ring must have poisoned his mind.'
"Do you feel ill, Isildur?" Elrond asked, trying to calm his friend down.
"Do I feel ill? DO I FEEL ILL?" boomed Isildur. He drew his sword and attacked. Elves and humans, once being companions, were now enemies. Whereas a war had ended, a new one had sprung.
"There," he said, gasping. "'Tis done." A look of longing crossed his face.
Lord Elrond studied his human companion. "Yes, 'tis done. Let us descend this dreary place, and rid ourselves of this heavy load that was laid upon us."
"Of course," Isildur said. Both of the tired men worked their way down the mountain side and were rewarded with cheers of victory from their troops. All to sudden, an elf jumped straight and true at Isildur, dagger in hand.
A soldier sacrificed his life for his lord. Isildur drew his sword and chopped the elf's head off.
"What is this?" he asked. He slowly raised his gaze from his soldier's body, to Lord Elrond. "Are you not responsible for the elves, Elrond? Are you not an elf?"
Lord Elrond stared at Isildur. "To what dangers are you running into? Why do you accuse me without hesitating? Is our friendship unreal?"
"Do not try to fool me Elrond!" Isildur hissed. "I know what it is you want. You want my throne."
'Something is wrong with him,' Elrond thought. 'The ring must have poisoned his mind.'
"Do you feel ill, Isildur?" Elrond asked, trying to calm his friend down.
"Do I feel ill? DO I FEEL ILL?" boomed Isildur. He drew his sword and attacked. Elves and humans, once being companions, were now enemies. Whereas a war had ended, a new one had sprung.