Panic in his eyes

Tircah slowly dragged himself away from his attacker. Meadeth lay five feet away. The rest of the Force lay scattered around him. Blood poured down his face and arms, it coated his chest. His customary sleevless tunic had long since fallen off because of the enemy's swipes. The evil being laughed a cold long laugh. "Face it you pathetic excuse for an elf. Your claims of elite abilities are false and you will fall to my blade. You have failed!" Tirach still dragged himself along the floor. Meadeth now was three feet away. "As long as what i was sent here for is accomplished then i will not have failed!" Tirach retorted. Two feet. "Your miserable existence is at an end you will die here, but not before you tell me what you people's plans are. Tirach smiled at his enemy and put his hand on Meadeth pulling it towards him. "I don't think so," they said as they stepped onto the blade pinning it down. "Thanks," Grunted Tirach. The being, confused, gave Tirach a questioning look. With a great effort TIrach pulled on the gem in the pommel of Meadeth and removed the dagger concealed in the hilt. He sat up, spit at the person, and stabbed himself.
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Five days eralier

Tirach rushed from his house. Nobody could know about this meeting. His force, the Siron Force had been summoned to a secret meeting with Gem for a mission of utmost importance and he was late. He ran along the path and burst into the great hall, panting