Right. She remembered the old days too well, living off the
carelessness of the Edain, running from constables who always
seemed to misunderstand. Enough of that. Yet still her old teacher
came around, always with a scam. They always laughed and talked
about the past, and Joiwind turned his offers down.

But it was still good to see him. Especially now.

"You fade quickly," he said. "Have you any magic left?"

"Only a little," she replied. "I won't be able to cast a night
sight soon.

"And the other night..." she shuddered.

"What?"

"I could not see a necromancer's blade. What if a true foe had
been carrying it? I would on my way to the Halls of Mandos even now."

The wind came up through the trees and scattered the brown leaves
about them.

"You brought this on yourself little one. You should have stayed
with me. We'd be rich by now! Instead you seek out the Undead." He
shook his head. "Where is the profit in that?"

Joiwind sat in silence watching the sky.

After a time Townsend whispered, "I think I have found him."

The Elf sat up with a start. "What? Where?"

Townsend leaned back against a tree and smiled. "And if I told you
would you not try to slay him yourself and spoil all my plans? No. I
will make a profit first. But rest assured my bloodthirsty little friend,
I shall bring you along for the denoument."

Joiwind looked agitated. "Do it soon old friend. I haven't much time
left."

Townsend stood up with the grace of a cat. "I swear it," he whispered
and he was gone.

The little Elf sat alone and thought "He still has it. Maybe he WILL
succeed, but will it be soon enough?"