WW XXVII: Wolf of the Rings

[Akallabeth]

Turin stood solidly beside Garnorn and Seothen, doing what he could to hold back the tide of goblins, hearing yells from members of the company, and awful noises from the golbins. A lull in the fighting occurred, and Turin took the time to look back at the other members of the company, and saw that they were quite surrounded, as more goblins had come up the passageway from behind them, and others were trying to climb up the sides of the bridge.

 

'Ah, well,' he thought to himself, ' we couldn't get anywhere going back, we must go on.'

 

He yelled out to the others, "Hobbits, take care of getting rid of those ladders! Dwarves, assist them with any of the filty creatures that might reach the top. Rootmaker," he said with a glint in his eye, "I'm sure we'd all be much obliged if you stopped up that hole behind us. And any archers with arrow's remaining see what you can do to support Rootmaker, and then move up to deal with those coming up the bridge."

 

He turned round once more, and said to Garnorn and Seothen, "We're going forward."

 

The men let out a battle cry, and went forward, decimating the ranks assaulting them. Soon the courage of the goblins began to waver, and they began to fall back, first in small numbers, and then in droves.

 

Meanwhile, the dwarven passageway was slowly crumbling as Rootmaker began crumbling the rocks of the roof of the passageway, crushing any goblins that happened to get in his way, and burying the rest under an avalanche of stone. The archers picked off some of the goblins that attempted to get near Rootmaker and his work.

 

The hobbits and the dwarves soon began to turn the odds against them, as they knocked down ladders, crushing gobins beneath them, and easily dispatching any of the cave rats that made it to the top.

 

Soon silence reigned once more, as the company looked quietly around for any surviving goblins lying among the dead, and Yeager was spared from an early demise by Jagkatha, who shot a goblin that had attempted to jump him after crawling from beneath the bodies of a number of his fallen fellows.

 

Falmar, who had been among the archers in the battle, turned to the others.

"Let us move on."

 

They passed over the bridge and through the bodies, from which the archers replenished their supply of arrows, and continued on the passageway.

 

"...suddenly the walls to right and left vanished. They seemed to have passed through some arched doorway into a black and empty space. There was a great draught of warmer air behind them, and before them the darkness was cold on their faces." The Fellowship of the Ring J.R.R. Tolkien

 

 

(OOC: welcome to the 21st Hall)

 

(EDIT: Orc --> Goblin)

Edited May 16, 2006 by Akallabeth

[Mynx]

Jagkatha immediately moved in the darkness until she felt a solid wall at her back. Dropping to one knee, she quickly unstrung her bow and stored the string in her pack. She had only a handful of arrows left and wanted to save them. Her short swords would do her for the moment.

Standing up, the elf watched the darkness, waiting for her eyes to adjust as she listened to the hushed voices of the Company talking amidst each other.

 

Feeling a familiar presence at her side, Jagkatha smiled as Megwyn slipped her arm around the elf's waist. Resting her head on the ranger's shoulder, the two stood in silence for a moment, taking comfort in the closeness as the aldrenaline from the fight left their bodies.

The silence held between them, until Jagkatha broke it with a sigh.

"This is hell on my complexion."

Megwyn sniggered, a foreign sound in the darkness.

"'s okay hun. You're still the prettiest."

"Damn right I am."

 

More would have passed between the two, but at that moment there was a summoning call from the group. Regretfully, the two separated and moved closer to the Company to hear the proposed plans for action.

[Tanuchan]

"Great shadows sprang up and fled, and for a second they saw a vast roof far above their heads upheld by many mighty pillars hewn of stone. Before them and on either side stretched a huge empty hall; its black walls, polished and smooth as glass, flashed and glittered. Three other entrances they saw, dark black arches: one straight before them eastwards, and one on either side." J.R.R. Tolkien, “The Fellowship of the Ring”

 

 

 

Falmar had just come from examining all three entrances, and spoke softly.

 

“The eastward arch is probably the one that we must take. We have walked far today, and upwards... I think that we are above and to the north of the Dimrill Gates. This high, there should be high windows in the mountainside, with shafts leading out to the light. We cannot see them because it’s night again outside, but by morning they would help to guide us. So, let us stay here until morning, and get the rest we can.”

 

“Should we not then take the East archway while we are sure there is nothing else in pursuit of us?”

 

Falmar shook his head, and answered Baelestimah. “We don’t know what is ahead of us, and it would be disastrous for us to lose the way now. We know what can come upon us from behind, and we can guard against it. Let’s stop here. For we battled, and there might be more coming ere tomorrow dawns.”

 

The company didn’t argue, the darkness of Moria hanging heavily on them. They draw the watch, and Jagkatha and Yeager stood side by side, looking at the way they had come.

 

The watch was near an end when a soft noise reached the elf’s keen ears. Jagkatha glanced around her and saw Yeager shaking Turin and Filk gently, waking them for their watch stint. Tired of the looks she had been getting since Stoomp’s fall in the lake, she decided to investigate by herself. She left with soft paces, and it took a couple minutes before Yeager, Turin, and Filk noticed that she was gone. All they saw was the flickering light the burning torch gave while she walked down the path they’d come.

 

“Jagk!” Turin’s voice was an angry whisper, low but enough to wake Falmar and Neriam. Both looked up from the place they’d set their beds, and Falmar was quick to spring to his feet and follow Jagkatha without making any questions. Neriam followed, and Seothen joined them when they passed beside him.

 

 

 

Filk woke up suddenly, certain that he had head some scuffling not quite far away. He turned slowly, almost fearfully, towards the sound – and could make the trembling light of a torch coming up. Whispered angry voices were muted when those who had followed Jagkatha entered the vast Hall, and Falmar went to the place where Megwyn slept.

 

“Megwyn...”

 

The ranger woke up at once, hands flying towards her knife. But what she saw in Falmar’s eyes made her gasp.

 

“No... what happened? Jagk... something about her, isn’t it?”

 

“She heard something... goblins or orcs coming from behind us. She went alone... an arrow caught her. We killed the party, but... I’m sorry, Megwyn. Jagk fell down the last bridge we crossed on our way here.”

 

 

 

Morning came, and with it the confirmation of what Falmar had guessed: high up above the eastern archway through a shaft near the roof came a long pale gleam; and across the hall through the northern arch there was also a light that glimmered faintly. After a quick breakfast, the Company gathered around Falmar.

 

“I am now almost sure that it is the Eastward archway we need to take. However, I wish to check the north room, where that light comes from. If there is a window, it might help us. Who would come with me?”

 

“We should all go,” said Garnorn quietly. “If something happens, it’ll be better that we are not separated.”

 

Other voices agreed with the ranger, and they entered the room.

 

 

 

"Their feet disturbed a deep dust upon the floor, and stumbled among things lying in the doorway whose shapes they could not at first make out. The chamber was lit by a wide shaft high in the further eastern wall; it slanted upwards and, far above, a small square patch of blue sky could be seen. The light of the shaft fell directly on a table in the middle of the room: a single oblong block, about two feet high, upon which was laid a great slab of white stone.

 

‘It looks like a tomb...’

 

On the slab runes were deeply graven:

BALIN SON OF FUNDIN

LORD OF MORIA

"

 

J.R.R. Tolkien, “The Fellowship of the Ring”

 

~~~~

OOC: Jagkatha/Mynx is gone, taken by the enemy's arrow. It's now Night Phase. Specials, please send me your targets within 24 hours.

 

 

You're now in the Chamber of Marzabul (Chamber of Records), where Balin, last lord of Moria, rests. Feel free to explore and talk. Please, stay in the Chamber, though - since day phase will take you down to the gates, and the Bridge of Khazad-dûm.

 

More info at the OOC thread.

Edited May 16, 2006 by Tanuchan

[Mynx]

Jagkatha stood on the edge of the bridge she had fallen from and looked down into its depths, unable to see her body but somehow glad of the matter.

She held out her hand and looked at it. Her skin had always been pale, but now it was luminous, a soft light shining from within it, although that could be from any source as she realised she could now see through herself.

 

The elf continued to stand there for a moment, lost so deep in her thoughts she wasn't aware of anything. She'd always thought life after death would have been a lot more...eventful than this.

"No!" Jagkatha heard a desperate cry from the Company and recognised Megwyn's voice.

Rousing herself from her musings, the elf turned back and went to join the Fellowship as best she could.

 

She knew no one could see her, which was a shame as she was probably even prettier now than she ever had been, but Jagkatha still had difficulty learning not to expect any kind of reaction or acknowledgement to her presence.

 

Moving through the group as they packed up, Jagkatha found Megwyn huddled over her things, her arms cradling the short swords the ranger had admired so much, a tiny trickle of tears running down her face.

A ghost of an emotion hit Jagkatha, its true force hidden in the abyss of lifelessness, but still more than enough for the elf.

Crouching next to Megwyn, Jagk reached out and tried to touch her hair. Her hand went through the girl so quickly that Jagk pulled back with a yelp as Megwyn stiffened, sensing something.

Trying again, the elf rested her hand as close to the ranger's hair as possible, touching but not.

 

Megwyn got up suddenly and moved off to finish packing her things, leaving Jagkatha to sit by her own things. She noticed with a kind of detached sadness that Megwyn had picked up some of the more personal items from the bag before discarding it.

 

With nothing else to do, Jagkatha watched the Fellowship as they finished packing and gathered, falling into pace next to Megwyn as they set off, her feet leaving no tracks in the ground.

[Tanuchan]

Frerin and Jin looked upon the tomb of Balin, last lord of Moria. The jeweler rested a hand on the younger dwarf’s shoulder, noticing the trembling and the sweating. No words were really necessary – even the others from the Company felt the grief.

 

 

”There was another smaller door on the other side of the chamber, under the shaft. By both the doors they could now see that many bones were lying, and among them were broken swords and axe-heads, and cloven shields and helms. Some of the swords were crooked: orc-scimitars with blackened blades.

 

There were many recesses cut in the rock of the walls, and in them were large iron-bound chests of wood. All had been broken and plundered; but beside the shattered lid of one there lay the remains of a book. It had been slashed and stabbed and partly burned, and it was so stained with black and other dark marks like old blood that little of it could be read.” J.R.R. Tolkien, “The Fellowship of the Ring”.

 

 

 

Falmar took the book carefully, and browsed through its torn pages. Most were unreadable, but at some points there were words and paragraphs that came out. The book told indeed the story of the dwarves that had come with Balin, to reclaim the old dwelling of the dwarves upon Middle Earth. It told of the first years, and it told of the waking up of dark evils in the depths of the mines. It told of battles fought with courage and bravery, and of how the lake was formed and the Watcher of the Lake took some of his companions. Lastly, it told of incoming battle, and the drums of the orcs heard echoing through the stones.

 

 

 

”I fear their ending was cruel. Listen! We cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the Bridge and second hall. Frár and Lóni and Náli fell there. Then... the last lines run the pool is up to the wall at Westgate. The Watcher in the Water took Óin. We cannot get out. The end comes, and then drums, drums in the deep. I wonder what that means.”. J.R.R. Tolkien, “The Fellowship of the Ring”.

 

 

 

The Company fell in silence, the last soft words from Falmar fading in the Chamber. There they stayed for a while, each one immersed in their own thoughts. The hobbits fidgeted, and Filk and Irvin were soon looking through the other ruined chests. The others checked the chamber where the tomb was, looking for something that might be useful, or calmed the horses that were still with the party. Falmar went to one of the doors, and listened carefully.

 

Frerin stared still at the stone tomb, when a whisper came to him.

 

“This wall... it looks different. Can it be another secret door?”

 

The words seemed to awake Frerin, and he turned and went through the smaller door. There, one of the Company was passing his hands over a slightly light-colored place on the wall, and nodded to Frerin. “What to do you think?”

 

Frerin frowned, and approached the wall. There was indeed something different about that part of it, and his eyes spotted a darker stone set to his right.

 

“It might be... this can be a key stone...”

 

He never noticed when he was left alone, intent on finding out how to open the passage. When he finally twisted the rock and pushed, there was a shuddering on the stone, and he smiled – but the wall, instead of pivoting as he had expected, shuddered and rumbled, starting to crumble and fall over him.

 

Frerin’s surprised shout was masked by another – coming from the entrance to the main chamber.

 

“They are coming!”

 

“We cannot get out!”

 

Turin and Seothen used their weight to close the heavy door as a great noise came: a rolling Boom that seemed to come from depths far below, and to tremble in the stone at their feet. A noise that covered the lesser booming of a wall crumbling in the small side chamber.

 

“Trapped!” cried Falmar, gathering all other quickly. “We shouldn’t have delayed so long here! Quick, let’s go through the east door... “

 

Another horn-call and shrill cries rang out, while the Company left hastily through the second door: it led to steep stairs that went downward, and it was fortunate that both Horse-Brother and Warud trusted their partners – for how that path could be trodden by horses, with an Ent to close the line, is still not fully believable.

 

“Orcs. Many, many of them,” rumbled Rootmaker, his large steps threatening those ahead of him. “And some are large and evil, the black Uruks of Mordor.”

 

Falmar just kept urging them, keeping right behind Rootmaker.

 

“Down the stairs, go quickly... always down, and choose paths leading right!” And to himself, the Elf Lord muttered softly an elven prayer for the one who wasn’t accounted for in their retreat.

 

 

 

“At the end of an hour they had gone a mile, or maybe a little more, and had descended many flights of stairs. (...) They peered out. Before them there was another cavernous hall. It was loftier and far longer than the one in which they had slept. They were near its eastern end; westward it ran away into darkness. Down the centre stalked a double line of towering pillars. They were carved like boles of mighty trees whose boughs upheld the roof with a branching tracery of stone. Their stems were smooth and black. Right across the floor, close to the feet of two huge pillars a great fissure had opened.” J.R.R. Tolkien, “The Fellowship of the Ring”

 

 

~~~~~

OOC: Gyrfalcon/Frerin was lost to a cunning trap... and it's now Day Phase. You have roughly 48 hours (until Thursday around 10pm EST) to vote and try to find a wolf.

 

You're now in the Second Hall of Old Moria, a level below the Gates. At some point ahead of you, there is the Bridge of Khazad-dûm. Have fun!

 

Scorecard and more info at the OOC thread.

Edited May 17, 2006 by Tanuchan

[Katzaniel]

"So many deaths," mourned Rootmaker in a rumbling tone. His words softly echoed down the hallways of Moria, small forewarning for the echoing that would go on all day in the thoughts of the others in the party. "We knew there would be casualties," he said, "but so many deaths, so soon."

 

"Rootmaker, please, can't you speak a little quieter?" chided Falmar. "There is still much danger in these halls. We don't want to add more deaths to those that have already occurred."

 

"Oh, sorry," he replied, though his voice was not made for whispering. He fell silent, wondering to himself whether the party could even make it to their destination with so few to protect the ringbearer, and wondering also what would happen if the ringbearer were to be left behind like Raus or Stoomp, or indeed any of the lost had been. He fell into himself as they walked, and though his ponderings took hours compared to the quick conclusions that other races were capable of making, he then wondered about the accusations that had been flying around the past couple of days. Who had been the first to accuse whom, and for what apparent reasons?

 

"Mattias looks suspicious," he murmured, and though he tried to speak quietly, only to those near him, it too echoed in whispers down the hallway.

 

OOC: Vote for Gryphon / Mattias

[Lord Panther]

Garnorn slowed his pace, taking him to the back of the now shortened group, making sure that the little people did not get left behind in the hurry through the corridors and halls. He was sadened to see another of the fellowship fall, especially in these halls that will never see light.

 

But still, their quest lay ahead of them, they must take the ring to the mountain of fire, it must be cast into the fires from whence it came.

 

He just hoped that everyone else would make it from these dark places, out into the light, and that the goblins and trolls were all that they found on their journey through these mines...

 

[ooc: no vote yet]

Edited May 17, 2006 by Lord Panther

[Gryphon]

Mattias heard Rootmakers voice rumble out alerting everyone in the Fellowship of his suspicions and a puzzled frown settled over his usually smiling features.

 

It was, he felt, unusual for Rootmaker to make a hasty judgement over someones guild or innocence, but he couldn't figure out how the Ent had made the decision that he looked suspicious...

 

Surely actions spoke louder than words? There were a score of dead wargs and goblins that would give mute testiment to Mattias's efforts to keep everyone in the Fellowship alive.

 

Mattias let the others in the Fellowship slip past him as he fell back from his place behind Turin to walk in silence beside the great Ent.

 

"I have no wish to cause strife within our Fellowship Rootmaker, and in a place such as this we can see all kinds of things that do not exist. I don't know what I did to bring about your suspicion, but I do know I want nothing but peace between us and the success of the Fellowship in our mission."

[Akallabeth]

Turin heard Rootmaker's words about Mattias, and inwardly frowned as they continued along the remaining passages of Moria.

 

Rootmaker was right... though it appeared that the deaths of Stoomp and Frerin had been accidents, there was quite probably more to their deaths than what met the eye. And both of them were dwarves... surely an elf wouldn't have been that vengeful...

 

He sighed inwardly, and continued down the hallway, though Rootmaker's statement had made an impression, and changed the way he looked at the elf, Mattias.

 

(OOC: Vote for Gryphon/Mattias)

[Ayshela]

Linador sighed inwardly, stretching as much as possible as they hurried down the passage. Jin had been so near-desperately reluctant to leave the one lighted room they'd found that when they fled Linador had been unable to persuade in time, or even pull him along, and had of necessity picked him up and carried him into the dark he feared so much. Linador had swiftly silenced Jin's protests, but only by reminding him that he, Linador, would face Elrond's wrath for letting Jin die when Elrond had seen fit to save him. No argument of friendship, of safety or speed had even penetrated the fear he now wore like a ragged cloak. Fortune favour them, it would not be long now until they left Moria behind, a bad memory for other dark nights.

 

Rootmaker's low rumbling comments wrenched Linador's attention from his own worried watchfullness. Mattias? Surely rumours of racial tensions were not enough to base accusation on alone? "I wonder why he thinks that?" he thought. "Even more, I wonder why he said that? I've never known an Ent to speak rashly, or hastily. This seems both, and very strange." He pondered for several more turns in the passageways, then looked from Jin to Rootmaker. "Perhaps not only Jin suffers from a lack of light? Perhaps the deprivation shows differently in Ents? I wonder..." he thought, but held silence. They still had freedom to reach. Fighting was best saved for enemies encountered on the way, not wasting time and energy tearing the company apart before they even reached the far gate.

 

 

OOC: no vote yet, will be in later in the morning when thoughts have solidified.

[Gryphon]

As the Fellowship marched it became obvious that some had taken Rootmakers comment very much to heart and Mattias began to notice a few dark stares in his direction.

 

Mattias seemed to recall that not so long ago there were mutterings about the guilt of other members of the Fellowship with Megwyn and Yeager both being accused of dark deeds... and strangely enough it was often Turin doing the muttering.

 

Striking up a quiet conversation with Yeager and Megwyn both Mattias quietly comments,

"Is it just me or is Turin often one of the first to point fingers and claim other people's guilt?"

 

~~~

 

OOC: Accusing Akallabeth / Turin of Dol Amroth for pointing out other people's supposed guilt just a little too quickly.

[Vahktang]

The numbers fallen in the time allowed could not be by chance or just by mischance.

'Someone is pushing us,' thought Yeager.

'I first thought elves vs dwarves, but maybe a human. They've always been factious themselves. And using factions against each other is how they stay strong.'

'Turin. Yes, that is his name. Isn't he experienced in...ah, politics, that's what it is called.

'He bears watching.

[Katzaniel]

"I have no wish to cause strife within our Fellowship Rootmaker, and in a place such as this we can see all kinds of things that do not exist. I don't know what I did to bring about your suspicion, but I do know I want nothing but peace between us and the success of the Fellowship in our mission."

Rootmaker tried to formulate an answer, to address the way that Mattias had acted suspiciously, and protest that he, too, wanted them to succeed. But he couldn't think of a way to explain this properly. By the time he had his answer, he looked up to find Mattias with Yeager and Megwyn. He strode over to the group and spoke. "I apologize, Mattias, but I am hardly the first to suspect that it is one of our group to be the reason for these deaths. I want us to succeed as much as anyone, I am here without the bidding of the entmoot, simply because I recognize the need to destroy this ring, and even the urgency of it, a concept I am slowly beginning to understand. The world is changing, Mattias, evil is growing, and even I can see that we need to stamp out that evil before good can thrive. We need to find the traitor in our midst, or we will never succeed."

 

"But what did I do?" protested Mattias when Rootmaker lasped into silence.

 

"You? Of course it's just speculation, but I said that when I remembered how I'd seen you looking oddly at Raus, early in the journey. And then he wound up dead."

[Gryphon]

At Rootmakers words Mattias laughs, a weight partially lifted from his heart.

 

"An accident of fate, nothing more. I could feel suspicion and anger growing amongst us and yet somehow I find myself still fearing odd looks from others least I wind up dead myself."

[Ayshela]

Rootmaker's words were spoken softly, for an Ent, yet they carried to those walking nearby. Linador paid careful attention to their journey toward the gate, yet even as he listened for sounds of pursuers he heard Rootmaker explain his thoughts and concerns. Things were indeed becoming strange in the world, the Ent himself the nearest evidence of one acting against his nature to support good and thwart evil. Nall that was against one's nature was evil, and not all that was according to one's nature was good. Linador's own words sprang back to mind as he reconsidered the deaths along their journey and the times it would have taken stealth and speed. Rootmaker was not by nature speedy, and stealth would be difficult for him. Not so for many of the rest of the party, as had been considered before. Yeager, yes, "But could not elf or ranger do the same?" Megwyn would have been inclined to avenge Jagkatha, perhaps, but not in a way which would have thrown suspicion on her. Mattias was equally capable of stealth and speed. Would it have concerned him if suspicion attached to another? And where HAD he been when the mule was killed, or when Stoomp went into the lake?

 

That last could be readily discovered, and probably best it was. Linador moved up beside Mattias and laid a hand on his shoulder. "There are odd looks and suspicion enough to go around, of late. If you remember where you were as each death happened, why it could not have been you, I suggest you speak of it. Only truth removes suspicion, and the time has nearly come to speak our minds of these events.

 

"But not right now. We're nearly there." They looked across the hall, as many as could see through the gloom. "The bridge is there, the gate beyond, is that right, Falmar?"

 

"That's right. Over the bridge and up the stairs beyond to the gate. It will be guarded, but if we can make it across the gate we should make it out with little difficulty," Falmar explained. "They're gathering as we wait here, but on the other side of the fissure. If we hurry we should be able to get across before they find a way to cross to our side. Let's go."

 

Linador caught Jin by the arm and Baelestimah's pack horse's lead with the other hand and followed Falmar toward the bridge and escape from Moria.

 

 

OOC: randomness calls for accusation of Mattias/Gryphon

[Finnius]

Filk drudged along beside Jin, his head hung down nearly to his chest. The dwarf had a light, at least, and he was good company when he said anything, which wasn't much. That fit the hobbit's mood in this place though. The outside had been at least open and there was a wind that could help carry your thoughts somewhere else... Moria was dead and still.

 

More a grave now than when the Company had entered, it seemed...

 

Filk had thought bad things about Jagk, especially in the wake of Stoomp's demise, but hadn't she been killed scouting out their enemies? The hobbit shook his head and stared at the floor as they walked.

 

Filk's feet were covered in dust, he noticed. He'd have to clean them at some point, but it would be after they were out of Moria.

 

He looked up as Linador caught Jin's arm, really noticing the bridge for the first time. It filled him with a sense of foreboding. Filk had never really been afraid of heights, but that was because usually you could see the depths... this chasm had no bottom, or so it seemed. The hobbit huddled closer to Jin, staying in the circle of light.

 

He gave a brief look around the Company, wondering if any of them were really out to get him, or if it was all a trick of the Ring, which waited somewhere in their midst, corrupting by its very prescence. If Filk had it, he could just throw it down a hole, or in a river, somewhere nobody would ever look for -

 

The hobbit shook his head, breaking out of his dream and looking around again. No, no more suspicions, he wouldn't think bad thoughts about anyone else. At least not without a gol-durn good reason.

 

~~No Vote for this Hobbit!~~

[Lord Panther]

Overhearing what Mattias was saying about Turin, and thinking things over himself, it did make sense as to what the elf was saying. He too wondered if Turin was maybe pointing fingers at others to possibly hide his own guilt, his own misdeeds...

 

[ooc: vote for Turin. Sorry for the lack-luster post, was dealing with computer issues...]

[Tanuchan]

"Even as they spoke they heard again the pursuing drum-beat: Doom, doom, doom.. Away beyond the shadows at the western end of the hall there came cries and horn-calls. Doom, doom: the pillars seemed to tremble and the flames to quiver.

 

‘Now for the last race! If the sun is shining outside, we may still escape. After me!’

 

[He] turned left and sped across the smooth floor of the hall. The distance was greater than it had looked. As they ran they heard the beat and the echo of many hurrying feet behind. A shrill yell went up: they had been seen. There was a ring and clash of steel. An arrow whistled over." J.R.R. Tolkien, “The Fellowship of the Ring”.

 

 

 

Falmar measured the distance, then pointed. “Across the bridge, up the stairs, and less than a quarter of a mile to the Dimrill Gates. If it’s still daylight, the Orcs will hesitate in coming after us after we are at some distance from Moria. Let’s run – don’t hesitate!”

 

The others nodded. Seothen and Baelestimah opted for climbing their horses; Warud snorted, ready to charge, but obeyed the gentle pressure Seothen did and quieted. Jin was grabbed by Linador and put into Seothen’s saddle, while Baelestimah caught Yeager. Rootmaker looked down and picked both Filk and Irvin.

 

At a sign from Falmar, they ran. Filk wanted to scream and shut his eyes again, but the sight as they neared the Bridge of Khazad-dûm silenced him to a gasp, and he couldn’t but stare at the black chasm.

 

 

 

"At the end of the hall the floor vanished and fell to an unknown depth. The outer door could only be reached by a slender bridge of stone, without kerb or rail, that spanned the charm with one curving spring of fifty feet. It was an ancient defense of the Dwarves against any enemy that might capture the First Hall and the outer passages. They could only pass across it in single file." J.R.R. Tolkien, “The Fellowship of the Ring”.

 

 

 

“Seothen, Baelestimah...”

 

“We can cross it, don’t worry,” said Baelestimah to Falmar quietly, his link with Horse-Brother making sure that the horse wasn’t panicking and would cross.

 

Seothen just patted Warud’s head and nodded. Both darted ahead – first Horse-Brother, then after a safe distance, Warud. Garnorn and Megwyn followed, then Linador and Neriam. Closing the line, Mattias, Turin, Falmar, and Rootmaker last.

 

Arrows and yells followed them, angry drums sounding from across the fissure that had separated them from the Orcs – had they come from the right way, they would have been trapped there. They could see hundreds of Orcs, and fire burning high. Mattias turned, nocking an arrow to his bow.

 

“No – run!” Falmar urged those ahead of him.

 

An arrow came, aimed true, and caught Mattias on the shoulder. Turin reached out to catch him, but the next arrow came close to piercing his armor – and Mattias fell to the chasm. Turin hesitated, horrified, but Falmar urged him ahead.

 

 

 

 

”They ran on. The light grew before them; great shafts pierced the roof. They ran swifter. They passed into a hall, bright with daylight from its high windows in the east. They fled across it. Through its huge broken doors they passed, and suddenly before them the Great Gates opened, an arch of blazing light.

 

Out of the Gates they ran and sprang down the huge and age-worn steps, the threshold of Moria.

 

Thus, at last, they came beyond hope under the sky and felt the wind on their faces. They did not halt until they were out of bowshot from the walls. Dimrill Dale lay about them. The shadow of the Misty Mountains lay upon it, but eastwards there was a golden light on the land. It was but one hour after noon. The sun was shining; the clouds were white and high.” J.R.R. Tolkien, “The Fellowship of the Ring”.

 

 

 

~~~~~~

OOC: Mattias/Gryphon is gone, into the deep chasm below the Bridge of Khazad-dhûn. It’s now Night Phase. Specials, please, send me your choices within 24 hours.

 

You’re now in Dimrill Dale, a green valley beyond Moria. It is daytime.

 

I’ll post a scorecard after night phase. More info at the OOC thread.

Edited May 19, 2006 by Tanuchan

[Guest Phoenix]

Once certain that they were a safe distance from the walls, the company paused to catch their breath, and count their once again depleted numbers. Packs were taken off and re-balanced, food was shared, and a breath was taken before the day's journey, to lead them a safe distance from Moria and the threats it posed.

 

Megwyn watched the companies actions numbly, twisting her bracelet around her wrist until it cut into the flesh, just to feel something. it was as if she was seeing the world from behind a wall of glass. SHe could function well enough. she had been travelling for long enough, in dangerous situations, that she could take everything in at a glance. She could still react to danger, protect members of her company, outwardly she looked fine, and nothing escaped her eyes. but nothing penetrated, not voices, not danger, not the concerned glances of the rest of the company. she was numb. except in battle. then her anger came out. in the last battle she had thrown herself in blindly, slashing at anything that moved with Jagk's double swords. her mouth shifted into something approximating a smile at the memory. she really was going mad... it had felt like Jagk was there, guiding her, warning her. Mocking her gently as she had when they had practised together.

 

'oaf! a cripple could move those swords faster than you! if you get yourself killed i'm not coming back for you....!'

 

then the smile, her hand on Meg's face, and the sweetness of her kiss...

 

Food appeared by her right hand, and she looked up at Filk's retreating back. she called her thanks, but not loudly enough to be heard. there was no energy in her anymore for that.

 

Turning to her pack, she opened it and sifted through the items she had managed to scrouge from Jagk's pack before she had been obliged to leave it in Moria. she laughed inside as she came to her hairbrush, thinking of the hours she had spent playing with Jagk's long hair.

 

'you're still the prettiest, sweetling..'

 

No. She couldn't. it was too close, still.

 

She sighed, and returned the things to her pack, repacking the bag so everything fit well and neatly. then she removed a package from a side pocket, and unwrapped the gift she had never had the chance to give. It was wood, fine grained, and carefully carved. Megwyn was no master carver, but she had worked hard and long in secret to finish this. it was finished before they ever left Rivendell, except the moment had never seemed right to give it before. now she would never have the chance.

 

she undid the leather band that usually held her hair back, and threaded it through the holes in the comb. now she would wear Jagk's likeness, in her memory. her thumb rubbed across the face carved in the topknot of the comb, and she pushed it deep into her twisted hair, before tying it off with the leather thong.

 

too many deaths, too soon. Mattias, Jagk, Stoomp, Raus....

 

Megwyn closed her bag, picked up the chunk of bread Filk had left for her, and, her eyes still towards Moria, lost herself once again in her thoughts.

Edited May 19, 2006 by Phoenix

[Vahktang]

Yeager cursed again at the empty snare.

He was off his game.

Usually hunting came easily to him.

But not these days.

He was way out of the area he usually hunted, beyond anything he dreamed of travelling too.

He missed the frontier of the shire terribly.

He sniffed, his eyes misting for a moment.

'No time for that,' he thought.

'Party needs fresh food. Depending on me.'

He added some tubers to his gathering bag.

'So far I've come.'

He looked towards Mordor.

'So very far to go.'

He shuddered but carried on.

[Lord Panther]

Garnorn caught his breath with what remained of the party, then quickly went over the routine of checking everyone for wounds, and treating those that were suffered. He was saddened that Mattias had fallen at the bridge, but he knew that he had sacrificed to save the rest of them. At least that's what he told himself.

 

They wouldn't be able to get disheartened now, they had such a very long road ahead of them, and they needed to stay focused, stay strong, and push into the heart of darkness, in order to cut it out.

 

Knowing that they were headed to Lothlorien, he hoped that the elves that lived there would have better news for them, for that is what they truely needed.

[Mynx]

Jagkatha watched as Megwyn wound the wooden hairpiece through her hair. A sadness radiated from the dead elf that floated around her, but didn't seem able to penetrate her translucet skin.

Jagkatha had grown used to this displacement of emotions in the short time she had been dead, but it frustrated the hell out of her.

No anger would come. No tears. No true laughter. Everything about her was a shadow now.

 

As she had followed the company and watched the downfall of Mattias, Jagkatha had slowly learnt that she could maipulate things - but only to a certain extent. There would nevermore be a close embrace or a lingering kiss for Jagkatha to feel, but she made do where possible.

 

Sitting next to her still living beloved, Jagkatha watched her as she ate, wishing for the contact she was no longer allowed.

Sighing softly, the elf settled for what she could. Reaching forward, she concentrated on a flyaway strand of Megwyn's hair and willed her form to touch it.

The resulting experience for Megwyn was as if a soft, warm breeze had blown some of her hair back. But for now, it was enough.

[Ayshela]

Puzzled frustration fairly radiated from Linador as he sat near the rest of the company, catching his breath from the pace of events as well as recent travel. "Too many questions, too few answers, and too many which will never be answered now," he said in a near-growl which was too low to reach anyone more than a few paces away. "Madness, all of this," he continued. "But then, where evil is so is madness, so perhaps it makes a certain form of sense after all."

 

He heaved a sigh and went to help calm and care for the horses, taking note of the condition of the rest of the company on his way. Everyone was tired and shaken, but none seemed to carry worse injury than scrapes and bruises, which was better than expected. "Death or nothing," he thought, shaking his head at the oddity of it all. "And the worst of it is, I'm not even sure if that's a horrible way to travel, or better than many alternatives." Stifling a shudder at memories of snowy trails and a broken leg, he moved quickly to the horses knowing that caring for them would calm both him and the animals. Calm would be important as they progressed, and would make food settle better as well. Calm... calm... Linador focused on that thought as he checked hooves and legs, treated scrapes and looked for sores from straps.

[Venefyxatu]

Neriam had grown even more quiet than usual, pondering over the deaths and how they could've been avoided. It just wasn't right ...

He sat quietly, speaking when spoken to and never unfriendly, but always oh so pensive ...

 

 

OOC : told you I'd end up writing two-liners

[Tanuchan]

The night-wind blew chill up the valley to meet them. Before them a wide grey shadow loomed, and they heard an endless rustle of leaves like poplars in the breeze.

 

‘Lothlórien! Lothlórien! We have come to the eaves of the Golden Wood. Alas that it is winter!’

 

Under the night the trees stood tall before them, arched over the road and stream that ran suddenly beneath their spreading boughs. In the dim light of the stars their stems were grey, an their quivering leaves a hint of fallow gold. J.R.R. Tolkien, “The Fellowship of the Ring”.

 

 

The Company stopped for the night at the eaves of Lothlórien, the elves and rangers feeling more at east than ever since they had left Rivendell. Linador, Baelestimah, and Falmar looked upon the leaves of the Golden Wood with a smile; Garnorn and Megwyn breathed deeply, both with closed eyes, letting some measure of peace enter their hearts. Túrin and Séothen looked at each other, doubtful – both having come from lands where Lothlórien was either a legend, or an enchanted place to be avoided.

 

“Of that perilous land we have heard in Gondor,” muttered Túrin softly. “And it is said that few come out who once go in; and of that few none has escaped unscathed.”

 

Falmar raised his head, and looked at Túrin. “Say not unscathed, but unchanged. Then maybe you will speak the truth. But lore wanes in Gondor, if in the city of those who were once wise they now speak evil of Lothlórien. But believe what you will, there is no other way for us. Unless you would go back to Moria-gate, or climb the mountains where there are no paths, or swim the Great River.”

 

Túrin nodded slowly, and Neriam almost shrugged. Filk and Irvin gazed ahead, curious and full of wonder; Yeager looked at the woods pensively – while Jin trembled, still prisoner of his memories of last days inside Moria.

 

The Company walked softly now, following the river that crossed their path. Nimrodel, with its dark running waters, added to their sense of peace. Falmar smiled, and pointed to the bank of the river.

 

“We can cross here. The water is not deep, and I’d like to bathe my feet, for it is said that the water is healing to the weary.”

 

As each one stepped into the swift river, they could feel the cold water and its clean touch. The water mounted to the knees of the elves and humans, but even the hobbits were not afraid of it.

 

All of a sudden, wild cries came to their ears, and arrows flew. The reaction was quick, Falmar getting his bow in a smooth movement and letting arrows fly at the orc party; others joined him and there was some panicked gurgling and splashing as some of the smaller members lost their footing in the river.

 

“Cross the river! To the forest!”

 

As Linador shouted, arrows came also from behind them. Megwyin swirled fast, short swords ready to fight their ambushers – but she saw nothing besides arrows coming from the trees, aimed at the orcs.

 

A clear voice spoke in an elven-tongue, to which Falmar reacted quickest of all, answering in the same tongue. Baelestimah urged them ahead.

 

“Cross the river, straight into the forest – they’ll cover us. Quick!”

 

“Jin! Where is he?!” Linador looked around, suddenly afraid. Irvin rounded his eyes, remembering a muffled yelling from somewhere behind him, followed by a splashing and gurgling. Rootmaker, though, swept by and lifted both Filk and Irvin once more into his branches, and the party crossed the Nimrodel into the safety of Lothlórien.

 

Two elves dropped from a tree above them, and signaled them to follow. Swiftly they went deeper into the forest, leaving behind the sound of the river mixed to orcish cries. Linador looked back several times, frantic, until one of the elves touched his arm and spoke to him in soft a voice.

 

 

They stopped at a small clearing, and then the elves spoke to them in the Common Tongue.

 

“Welcome to Lothlorien. We have heard rumors of your coming, for the messengers of Elrond passed by on their way home up the Dimrill Stair. The Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim wait for you in our city.”

 

“And the orcs who were after us?” asked Seothen, glancing back in the river’s direction.

 

“There won’t be any going back to dark Moria. And no orc raid will ever pass the borders of our land.”

 

“There is one of us missing...”

 

Falmar looked up when Linador spoke, and gasped softly. “Jin!”

 

The thought came unbidden to more than one in the party - Did he slip and fall... or did he have help in that?

 

The elves nodded. “We will follow Nimrodel and look for him in both banks. I’m going back to the border – my brother Haldir will lead you into Lorien.”

 

Led by Haldir, to whom Falmar spoke in soft tones in the elven-tongue, the party walked deeper into the forest. They stopped for food and sleep at a point, and their journey continued next morning. As the sun climbed, they could see why the Golden Wood had gotten its name; and all of a sudden, a view opened to them.

 

 

They were standing in an open space. To the left stood a great mound, covered with a sward of grass as green as Spring-time in the Elder days. Upon it, as a double crown, grew two circles of trees: the outer had bark of snowy white, and were leafless but beautiful in their shapely nakedness; the inner were mallorn-trees of great height, still arrayed in pale gold. High amid the branches of a towering tree that stood in the centre of all there gleamed a white flet. At the feet of the trees, and all about the green hillsides the grass was studded with small golden flowers shaped like stars. Among them, nodding on slender stalks, were other flowers, white and palest green; they glimmered as a mist amid the rich hue of the grass. Over all the sky was blue, and the sun of afternoon glowed upon the hill and cast long green shadows beneath the trees.” J.R.R. Tolkien, “The Fellowship of the Ring”

 

~~~~~

OOC: Jin/Ozymandias fell in the river, helped maybe by a stealthy hand. It’s now Day Phase. You have about 46 hours to vote – until around Sunday, 11pm.

 

You are in Lothlorien. Feel free to RP – just please, don’t leave it.

 

Scorecard and more info at the OOC thread.

Edited May 20, 2006 by Tanuchan