He stared into the face of a thing he hated for a long moment, clutching an arrow, his arm still bleeding profusely. It would keep. After the Breaking they'd been so certain. Entire teams had combed whatever parts of the Underdark they could actually access. The great city of Llabatz destroyed. Inaccessible. The dwarves had actually sent a messenger confirming this - and then they'd promptly gotten drunk. They apparently believed the Drow were entirely died out. Ilúvatar had perhaps wanted to believe it. Perhaps, and then perhaps too much. What was a Drow doing here? Trying to kill them on their way to an elf? It made no sense. Were the Drow working with Eiron'aith? With the temple? There must be a thousand people who did not want Dravath to talk. Not all of them could be in the thrall of Eiron'aith, especially not after their death. But whatever you hoped to gain by preventing Dravath from talking was neutralized by revealing the presence of Drow.
"No, no, no," someone cried.
Ilúvatar slipped over the railing and landed with a limber shuffling of feet, one on either side of the corpse, down below. His hand was covering the wound on his arm - and when it came away, the wound was gone, though his face seemed stuck in a foul grimace as he reached for the axe. Wrapped leather, creaking in his palm as he tucked it beneath his cloak. Ithacles and Vedette were exposed. There were Drow defending this Dravath. Two o the Thunderbolts were approaching - along with a member of the staff, though not the Master of Ushers. He could be thankful, at least, for that. Ilúvatar knew the men who approached. To and Gedval. Gedval was an elf of tremendous height, thin and narrow as a drawn thread. To seemed to be whatever he wanted to be - in this case he loomed over the staffer.
"Give them your cloaks, and take theirs," Ilúvatar ordered his men. "Clean this up. Tell no one. And get as many of the staff involved as are needed."
"Yes, my Lord," Gedval looked disappointed that there would be no further combat here.
"A Drow, my Lord?" To asked quietly. "Here and now? It cannot be pure coincidence."