Two small boats approached Tinnudir under the cover of the night with four men boarding in each. They reached the small island and pulled the boats under the trees on the shore. They took their weapons and gear and stood next to the water to listen for one final time to the instructions of the man dressed in a brown cloak, one that they feared. The sloshing sound of the water kept his words hidden from everyone but those that were there to listen and then the men split in two groups in the way they were on the boats. One group that carried two quarter casks ran up the rock and took position against the wall of the fort and waited there.
The other group, lead by the cloaked man, ran around the building from the northern side and reached the small working area by the fort. They hid between the work stations and the barrels and watched the patrol come and go keeping time and watching their route. The cloaked man started a very small fire on the forge and hid. The patrol-men approached the forge trying to determine the cause of the fire and when they realised what happened a hand had muffled each mouth and the blade of a dagger ran across their necks. The invaders made good use of their bows in getting rid of the guards of the doors and returned to their companions.
One that was armed with a crossbow shot a hook tied to the end of a rope at the roof of the fort and the first group climbed first. The second group tied the casks to the rope in order to be hauled up one by one before they climbed the wall while the cloaked man checked the door to the building and further down the staircase. When everyone was up he spoke to them in a quiet growl.
“I told you no one would be here,” no one argued and he growled contentedly. “You and you,” he said pointing at those carrying spears, “come with me inside and kill some of these worms. But, only if you can do it quietly. This is not a raid. We want to draw the attention of Annuminas. We want them to think that the fort is under attack,” he grinned and the men nodded. They ran inside and the others started pouring the oil all over the roof.
“The Dusk-Watch is on fire!” cried a voice from the city below and soon his words were echoed all over.
A man clad in black was standing on the roof of a building and watched the men run in different directions, some to report, some to get ready to disembark and some to alert the others. He grinned and folded his arms before his chest.
“They took the bait,” a man said matter-of-factly behind him and he nodded. He turned his head to the right and nodded.
“At once,” said the man who spoke and walked away quickly.
Soon, tomb-raiders and Angmarim were moving on the rooftops and dark alleys of the ruined city following the retreat of the soldiers. They waited patiently for the boats to leave and disappear in the night before launching an attack on the remaining defenders of the city.
The man on the rooftop walked alone in the dark streets, not bothering to draw his weapons. Here and there men were fighting around him and the numbers of the attackers made a big difference. They pushed the defenders back at Gwaelband and then in the water. He reached the area and lifted a hand pointing at the water and his men pushed onwards, throwing the defenders in the water one by one. Only an officer was kept in chains. The man took a torch and walked to the end of the water. He leaned close to the water with torch as if trying to see who was inside and then he turned to look at the officer and grinned.
“Let them go!” cried the officer in anger and tried to break free from his captors’ grasp, but to no avail.
The cloaked man walked up and down along the pier just to make a show, to show the officer that he had his men to his mercy.
“You’ve lost. Go back to the shadows. Whatever you do doesn’t matter.”
The man kept pacing up and down not saying anything and his silence made the soldiers in the water even more nervous. None dared approach the end of the water to try and climb out, bows, more than they could count were pointing at them from almost all directions.
“What do you want?” the officer asked and the only reply that he got was a look from the man who now was studying the men in the water.
“Fire-oil!” suddenly cried one and a murmur rose from the water as one by one they realised where they were.
The man grinned at the officer and shrugged. Some of the soldiers protested, others pleaded for mercy, one or two tried to get out, but they were thrown back in.
“You’ll pay for this!” the officer shouted and the man looked at him with a frown as he had been waiting for that for a long time. “They will come back!”
“We count on that!” said another man in black clothes and the leader scoffed silently. He drew a deep breath and walked up and down again and when he stopped one could read boredom across his face. He frowned again as if in deep thought and turned to face the officer. He shrugged and threw the torched backwards. Some men cried no and some tried to catch the torch, one of them did. His body was full of fire-oil and as soon as he caught the torch the fire spread on his hand and from there on the water. The screams of burning men filled the night. The man smiled and walked away.
