Never Fading Grief 

Turin woke from dark nightmares and pain, and he was frightened of the large figure that stood menacingly towards him.

Was this orc going to torture him some more?

Fortunately, he took the enemy’s weapon and drew it upon him with stealth and great aim.

But he saw the blond elven hair and the fairest face features belonging to his best friend.

Oh Beleg, oh what did i do? Dearest of friends.

Turin wept till he felt no more tears and felt his heart breaking anew. He could not believe what he just did. Darkness overcame; he knew no more.

Deceived

Turin did not intend to meet an enemy that was thrice as powerful as him that sowed lies into his head about his family.

His life was full of regrets, as he raced back to his motherland which he should have gone back to a long time ago. Where were Morwen and his sister? Are they all thralls or are they dead?

Every path he took, he returned to familiarity but nothing was recognizable. He hadn’t been there for twenty years.

And with rage and sorrow, he was ready to confront anyone who stood in his way of the truth.

Cursed

All his life had gone awry and this was the worst realization. Marrying and conceiving a child with his sister was too horrible of a deed for Turin to stomach. He had slain many, done many tasks he regretted, but this was the absolute worst. He felt ill, had no desire to keep living.

He did not feel sorrow or rage or anguish or fear anymore that he had his entire life– only peace  it would soon be over .

Will you slay me swiftly?

Perhaps the next life would be kinder to Turum Turumbar, Master of Doom or Doom Mastered.