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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

WW XXVII: Wolf of the Rings


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Linador, back to back with Mattias, was facing the animals' supposedly safe grazing grounds. Seeing Seothen beseiged by wargs, he took down those beasts as were in clear vision, taking care to keep Seothen's movements well clear of the line of fire. Keeping the wargs from Mattias' back *and* as clear as possible from Seothen would not have been a stretch did not he have to ensure that no one leapt unseeing in front of a speeding arrow. Turning quickly to down a warg which had slipped the other side of the horses, Linador had a brief second to wonder how many directions he could watch at once. Dismissing the thought, he returned full attention to the battle and the hope that they would run out of wargs before arrows.

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Rootmaker was having trouble keeping up. The humans - and the rest, too - had a tendency to rush things. He'd been taken by surprise when, the very day after the council had taken place, the company was already setting out. That's all right, for he had nothing to pack. But the way that they rushed forward each day (walking painfully slow in comparison to his own long gait, but not taking a moment to rest, either) and spoke so quickly, and grew angry over little things... it was all difficult for Rootmaker to take in.

 

When the Wargs attacked, he watched for a moment, trying to gauge what they were going to do. He wasn't used to having to attack first, for very little could hurt him. It took a while for him to notice the struggles going on beneath him - Mattias and Seothen and the rest fighting for their very lives - but when Filk climbed into his branches for the second time since he'd left the ent forest, Rootmaker finally moved. A step, a hit, another step, another dead Warg. He wasn't the only one dispatching the wolves with ease, so it didn't take long before they were all gone. Rootmaker sighed. "Now, let's get back to that break..." he said slowly.

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Big thanks to Finnius, who wrote Filk's parts :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

For the second time in recent memory, Filk was somehow up a moving tree. This time, the tree was stomping, squishing, and kicking Wargs, and Filk might've even enjoyed the sight if he hadn't had his eyes squeezed shut.

 

"Aaaaaaagh! Lemmedown, lemmedown, lemmedown! Ooooh I'm going to be sick..."

 

The hobbit kept a tight hold around a branch-like arm, swinging up and down as Rootmaker took the attack to the Wargs, hoping fervently that he didn't come dislodged. And then, nearly as suddenly as it had started, it was all over, and Filk managed to open his eyes and grin thankfully at the ent, who picked him by the back of his shirt and gently placed him on the cleared ground.

 

There was a last howl from a great wolf-chieftain - a howl that ended up in a gurgling as Mattias' arrow pierced its throat. The others fled. Slowly, the first light of dawn came dimly in the sky, and the Company warily tried to get what rest they could.

 

 

 

"When the full light of the morning came no signs of the wolves were to be found, and they looked in vain for the bodies of the dead. No trace of the fight remained but the arrows lying on the hilltop. All were undamaged save one of which only the point was left." J.R.R. Tolkien, "The Fellowship of the Ring"

 

 

 

Falmar looked around after recovering his share of arrows. Linador joined him, and after a moment whispered, "So, Falmar... if we are taking the dark path you talked about yesterday, the others should be warned."

 

Garnorn also joined the elves, having also recovered arrows and heard their soft whisper. "There is only one dark path that leads through the Misty Mountains other than the Pass. You're talking about the Mines of Moria."

 

"Khazad-dûm!" Frerin exclaimed, quick to pick the name of the ancestral home of the dwarves. There was fire in his eyes as he added, "My heart trembles to hear that name, and longs to tread its paths and look upon the halls of Durin!"

 

Jin, who was next to Frerin, rounded his eyes at the name, and a shiver ran down his spine. He muttered something quite inaudible, and his fingers caressed absent-mindedly the lamp he always carried. He didn't make any comment, but nodded slowly in agreement to Frerin.

 

Turin frowned. "That is a name of ill omen. What is the need to go there? Let us journey southwards, until we come to the Gap of Rohan, where the men are friendly to us. Thus we can talk to my people in Dol Amroth, and Seothen can certainly ask for the aid of the Horse Lords."

 

"We shall not go through paths that take us near Orthanc and Saruman the White." Falmar's voice admitted no disagreement. "Were you not at the Council, Turin of Dol Amorth, and heard Gandalf the Grey? Our way through the Gap is barred while Saruman holds Isengard."

 

Filk and Irvin looked at each other - they had both heard vague tales of Moria and an ancient evil that dwelt on its depths. Filk sighed, feeling all of a sudden very homesick. "Y'know, the place where giant wolves don't try to eat your face... " he muttered, to no one in special.

 

Neriam, checking his clothes and his freedom of movement, talked softly. "No choice, from what I understand. We cannot go through the Pass of Caradhas, we cannot go through the Gap of Rohan, we cannot afford the time of a travel across Langstrand and Lebennin to come to Gondor from the sea side. Is that not so, Falmar?"

 

The Elf Lord nodded. "It is so. I have been through the Dimrill Gate once, and it is not willingly that I go back there." There was a shadow in his voice that filled some with uneasiness, but he continued before anyone could interrupt. "We cannot tarry here. Those wolves were not ordinary creatures hunting for food. We must reach the doors before sunset, or I fear we shall not reach them at all. It is not far, but our path will be a winding one."

 

Mattias and Baelestimah were silent, but both looked South-eastwards. Elves knew of Moria, and of the evil it harbored. And more so those who had been in Elrond's household. They were not wiling to enter, but they knew their hearts wouldn't let them abandon their companions and their quest. Falmar knew it, and also looking in the same direction, pointed away. "There it lies."

 

At the distance, it was possible to see where the mountains' sides fell sheer into the shadows at their feet, and it coud be dimly seen a line of bare cliffs, and in their midst, taller than the rest, one great grey wall.

 

 

 

"The morning was passing towards noon, and still the Company wandered and scrambled in a barren country of red stones. Nowhere could they see any gleam of water or hear any sound of it. All was bleak and dry. Suddenly, [below them they saw] a deep and narrow channel. It was empty and silent, and hardly a trickle of water flowed among the brown and red-stained stones of its bed.

 

'Ah! Here it is as last! This is where the stream ran: Sirannon, the Gate-stream, they used to call it. But what has happened to the water, I cannot guess: it used to be swift and noisy. Come! We must hurry on. We are late.'"

 

 

 

The Company followed the path of the dried Sirannon, and at length came upon a fearful view: a dark still lake stretched before them, in stark contrast to the glimmering gold sunset sky. Neither sky nor sunset was reflected on the sullen surface of the dammed Sirannon, and the waters filled all the valley. Beyond the ominous lake were reared vast cliffs. No sign of gate or entrance, nor a fissure or crack.

 

"There are the Walls of Moria." Falmar pointed across the water. "And there the Gate stood open once upon a time, the Elven Door at the end of the road from Hollin by which we have come. Let's find a way round the northern edge."

 

It took them some time to reach the base of the cliffs and the Walls, and it took both Baelestimah's and Linador's skills with animals to calm the horses and pack mules enough for them to walk around the dark lake. Everybody instinctively avoided the unwholesome-looking waters, and more than one men shuddered just at looking at it. At last Falmar stopped between two trees, gazing at the blank wall of the cliff.

 

"Well, all is good so far, but where are those Gates everybody spoke of?"

 

Mattias smiled at Yeager's words, and looked at Falmar. The Elf Lord passed his hand over and over the spot he had been staring at, murmuring soft words in the Elven tongue. The moon shone brightly, and suddenly faint lines appeared, like slender veins of silver running in the stone. Steadily they grew broader and clearer, until their design could be guessed - an arch of interlacing letterin in an Elvish character at the top, and below it the outline of an anvil and a hammer surmounted by a crown with seven stars. Beneath these again were two trees, each bearing crescent moons, and in the middle of the door shone a single star with many rays.

 

"The emblems of Durin!" cried Frerin softly, almost in awe.

 

"And the Tree of the High Elves", added Jagkatha in a whisper.

 

"And the star of the House of Fëanor," completed Falmar. "Wrought of ithildin that mirrors only starlight and moonlight, and sleeps until it is touched by one who speaks words now long-forgotten in Middle Earth.'

 

The far howling of wolves reached them at that moment, and the horses started. Those who were near sprang to hold them, and somewhere someone cursed angrily. Falmar acted quickly and, standing before the rock he said in a clear, ringing voice, "Mellon!

 

The star shone out briefly and faded again. Then silently a great doorway was outlined, though not a crack or joint had been visible before. Slowly it divided in the middle and swung outwards inch by inch, until both doors lay back against the wall. Through the opening a shadowy stair could be seen climbing, but beyond the lower steps the darkness was deepr than the night. Everybody stared in wonder.

 

"I advise taking the packs from the mules," said Falmar ruefully. We should have left them far behind, while there was still free land for them to roam and find safety, but it is too late now. They won't enter Moria of their own will. Let's get ready to enter, we have waited too much in the outside yet."

 

Seothen rested his hand on Warud'd nose, speaking softly. "Warud will willingly go where I go."

 

Baelestimah just looked at Falmar - he knew the Elf Lord's words didn't apply to his Horse-Brother.

 

The Company hastily picked some most needed items from packs on the mules, and no one noticed a small splashing sound coming from the lake or saw Stoomp staring at it some moments later, with an open smile on his rather chubby face.

 

"Shiny!"

 

Grinning, Stoomp walked towards the waters, and let them lap softly at his feet. His eyes shone, following something that glimmered on the surface of the lake before sinking slowly.

 

"Awww..."

 

He reached his hands out, disappointment on his face, but looked doubtfully at the dark waters. A soft voice came from behind, "You should look closer... shinies are all over the bottom of the lake..."

 

Stoomp didn't have the time to react - he found himself slipping into the lake rather fast.

 

"Cooooold...." he whined, splashing and gurgling, and only then calling the attention of the Company.

 

"Stoomp!!"

 

He sank in the waters, and before anyone could react a dark tentacle came out in search of prey. It was pale-green and luminous and wet. Soon the surface of the lake was seething, as if a host of snakes were swimming up from the southern end. A fingered end lashed out and seized Irvin by the ankle, dragging him into the lake. Megwyn reached for her knife and slashed at the tentacle, which let go of Irvin. Twenty other arms came rippling out, and the dark water boiled. There was a hideous stench.

 

 

 

"'Into the gateway! Up the stairs! Quick!'

 

Rousing them from the horror that seemed to have routed all to the ground where they stood, he drove them forward.

 

They were just in time. The groping tentacles writhed across the narrow shore and fingered the cliff-wall and the doors. One came wriggling over the threshold, glistening in the starlight. Many coiling arms seized the doors on either side, and with horrible strength, swung them round. With a shattering echo they slammed, and all light was lost. A noise of rending and crashing came dully through the ponderous stone." J.R.R. Tolkien, "The Fellowship of the Ring"

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~

OOC: Stoomp/Sweetcherrie was a victim of the Enemy. It's now Day Phase, and you have roughly 48 hours (until Saturday around 10pm EST) to try and find the agents of the Shadows. Good hunting!

 

You are now in Moria, the ancient home of the Dwarves. There will be more info on the setting, and the scorecard, at the OOC thread.

Edited by Tanuchan
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OOC: cowritten with Akallabeth. Thanks!

 

The last stones had stopped falling, and Turin looked around through the slowly falling dust illuminated by Falmar's torch. It appeared that all except Stoomp had made it inside before that... thing... blocked the door. What Stoomp would be doing outside the relative safety of the mines was unknown to Turin. Perhaps Stoomp would manage to escape the thing and the wargs, and return to the safety of Rivendell.

 

Through the gloom, he saw a shape, obviously one of the other men, coming his way, leading a much larger shape beside him.

 

Seothen slowly removed his shield from where he had been holding it above Warud's head. A large dent in the middle of the shield indicated that had Seothen not protected his horse, the poor beast might have met his end here. His head was still ringing from a smaller pebble or rock hitting his helmet, but luckily his other body parts had been spared from the falling debris. He replaced his shield on his back, and took Warud by the bridle, leading the horse onwards with the group.

 

It had been a hard decision to make to bring the horse into the Mines of Moria, but separation would have been worse for both of them. He nearly bumped into a figure walking in the dark without a torch in front of him, and it had only been a snort from Warud which had alerted Seothen to the other man's presence.

 

"Sorry, nearly bumped into you back there. It so happens that I have quite a few torches. After Falmar told me that we'd be going into Moria I made sure to break a several of them from the branches of trees we passed among the foothills of the mountains. Want one of them?"

 

Turin nodded his assent, "Thank you very much, I had failed to think of bringing any torches along, and I certainly wouldn't want to be wandering through this pit without one."

 

Looking at Seothen and his horse, he said, "I expect that you two will have a tough time getting through this tomb. Would you like assistance in caring for Warud in some of the tight spot's we'll encounter?

 

"Your help would be much appreciated. I know that having him in here with me will most likely complicate things, but it is hard for any Rohirrim to get separated from his steed. You know, I've known Warud ever since he was a young pony. His mother, a half-meara died when Warud was but two weeks old and I had to take care of him. It would pain me to be separated from him."

 

Turin bowed his head. "Much is said in my land of the devotion of the Rohirrim to their steeds. And leaving any animal behind in this place would be cruel. I'll do what I can to help you both."

 

"Thank you. If there is anything I can help you with…maybe Warud could carry some of your equipment. I'm sure it would make the going easier for you," Seothen proposed.

 

"Well, if he could take my pack and my waterskin, I'd feel much more ready and able should we run into some trouble in this place. Or if that is too much, I'm quite capable of carrying them myself."

 

"Don't worry, it isn't too much. Just hand them over and I'll fix them to the saddle next to my equipment." Seothen grinned, taking the items from Turin and tying them onto the saddle, checking that they were securely fixed there.

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The water was cold all around him, and Stoomp had never liked swimming much. He struggled to get lose, but the tentacles around him kept a firm grip around his dwarven body. He lifted his head up towards the surface, and felt immense pain in his chest. He managed to free one of his chubby arms, and reached out to the faces of his friends, and then there was nothing but darkness. His body was dragged down fast, but Stoomp was floating into unconscious dreams.

 

The dwarf dreamt of a land where everybody was happy, and where all people were nice to each other. The land had angels and devils, undead and the living, children and grown-ups all living next to each other in peace. There were scents of fresh bread and sugary candy, he could hear laughter, and the world was colourful and happy. In his dreams Stoomp smiled at all the happiness he saw around him, wishing he was there in that dream world.

 

The dwarven body, large for his kind, but small in this immense dark lake floated to the bottom, and rested there for a moment. Then different tentacles arrived, and this time they were glowing softly against the dark background of water. They enveloped Stoomp’s body gently, and the ground opened up before them. With the dwarven body safely lying within, the tentacles entered the ground, and took him away to a better place.

 

OOC: The other half of this post can be found here.

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Linador sighed heavily as they stood before the gate of Moria, partly in relief at their arrival yet even more with an unnamed dread based in story and song of the horrors of the once glorious, now fallen city. He moved among the animals, softly caressing them while speaking words of calm and praise for their invaluable help. Those of the party who still had equipment or personal items set about unpacking the most valued items and determining how much they could carry of what remained, leaving many hands to occupy, if not calm, the animals as Linador made his careful way to each. They had all performed valiantly. Leaving one unpraised was unthinkable.

 

Baelestimah's companions were at the front of the line, thus among the last Linador came to. He nodded and smiled to Baelestimah as he softly stroked his pack horse's neck, asking simply "They will be going with you, even into Moria?" "They will," Baelestimah replied. "It would be harder otherwise." Linador nodded, then his attention was briefly drawn by Stoomp splashing his sliding way below the surface of the lake. Tentacles appeared, panicking the animals and sending those to the rear fleeing in terror. As they fled they left room for those in front to run as panick overtook them as well, drawing Linador's attention fully back to the horses and mules he knew and loved. Baelestimah's companions sensed evil, as had the others, and were on the verge of panic despite the known security of Baelestimah and Linador. Baelestimah had Horse Brother, so Linador caught his pack horse and tried to calm him.

 

"Into the gateway! Up the stairs! Quick!" came the shout, and Baelestimah and Linador urged Baelestimah's companions toward the gateway and into the gloom, using every bit of will to guide them from groping terror into depths of darkness. The doors crashed closed, and in a few moments a semblance of calm had been regained.

 

Once a semblance of calm reigned, Linador slid to a seated position on the floor, head back against the wall, trying to catch his breath. "Best to rest with your back to a wall," he thought. "And maybe I can hear if anything hear our arrival and comes to see who or what we are."

 

He sat for several moments listening to the familiar footsteps of the party and the animals, listening intently for far off sounds of anything more.

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Jin sat, breathing hard for the first time on the journey.

 

"May the winds of peace and the eyes of your ancestors guide you on your journey," he said quietly. Shutting his eyes for a moment, the jeweler shuddered and opened them again. Setting one lantern to each side, Jin unlimbered his pack and began to rummage about in it. Upon producing a candle, he lit it with a lantern flame with something approaching reverence. Filk took notice of this as the dwarf began to fix the candle firmly into a fitted slot in the crown of the iron cap he wore. With hope of raising spirits perhaps just an little, the good-natured hobbit began to make a jest at so many lights on one person, before being stopped by a warning hand on his shoulder from Garnorn.

 

Filk looked up at the ranger in uncertain silence, then back at Jin. The jeweler's hands shook.

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The dark.

Not the dark of night but the dark of stone.

No moonlight or even a little star light to see by.

Yeager did not like this at all.

Especially with what happened to Stoomp.

Somebody should have taken care of him.

'All of us should have taken care of him,' he thought.

And he lost one of his ponies.

The food pony, dang it.

He still had some iron rations on the other, but he also had tent, blanket, etc on it.

Not much use in a mine.

Linador calmed the remaining animals until a sorting could be made.

No snow on the other side of the mountains after the mine, so out went much of the heavy cold weather gear.

A survey of the food was made and it was discovered that there would be enough if they hurried and were not delayed.

Barely.

"What about hunting," asked Yeager.

"What is down here you don't hunt," said Frein, "it hunt you."

Though it may be so, Yeager would still keep his eyes out for the occaisional rat.

The sorting completed, the party began the long journey under the mountain.

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After making sure he had made it in the doorway in one piece, with as much gear as possible, Garnorn started checking over the others in the party, making sure that no one had any broken bones that would need attending to. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Filk looking like he was going to start cracking a joke, or otherwise making a ruckuss. He quickly stepped up behind the halfling, and put his hand silently on his shoulder. He spoke in a low tone, so that his voice would not carry further than the fellowship that was present.

 

"Be silent now. There was enough noise when that thing took down the doors. We don't know what kind of dangers are going to be present here, so it is probably best to hear them before they hear us. If we are lucky, we will not be seen our heard in our entire journey through these corridors. Besides, we don't want to lose any more members of our fellowship, at least not if we can help it, and especially not to foolishness"

 

With the halfling settled, Garnorn continued helping the rest of the group repack their gear as they could for the long walk that was going to be ahead of them through the mines of Moria...

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Linador listened carefully, but heard nothing more than the sounds of the Fellowship as they began sorting through what gear had been taken from the horses and mules before they bolted, low conversation among them, and the nervous movements of horses in the dark. Hearing Filk's abruptly swallowed comments, Linador returned his full awareness to those around him, and Jin in particular. His fear of darkness had been barely kept in check until now, travelling through the night as they had been. It had been getting harder for Linador to calm him as the stretch of night travel had lengthened. Now - now it would be ceaselessly dark, and get darker before it got light.

 

With a muffled sigh and silent resolve to keep careful check on Jin, to be ready with constant soothing and support at need, Linador got to his feet and moved over beside him. Kneeling beside him, Linador spoke softly to quell Jin's start. "It's only me, it's okay. We can't go back, so we'll have to go forward, and the quicker we go the sooner we'll be out of here. Would you like me to hold one of your lanterns for you so you can see to check your gear?"

 

Through his fear, Jin recognized Linador and relaxed slightly. With shaking hands he passed one of his precious lanterns over and set the other beside him so he could secure his pack and be ready to travel. Pack carefully balanced, Jin picked up his lantern and looked up at Linador. Linador gave back the lantern with a reassuring smile and said "Stay close, if you like. It may help, it may not, but it can't hurt. You'll be okay." Then he picked up his pack and moved into the darkness with the rest of the Fellowship, trying to remember who had been close enough to Stoomp to have pushed him in. It was a disturbing thought to take into the darkness.

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Mattias stood slightly beyond many of the Fellowship staring into the darkness beyond.

 

The darkness of the mines sent shivers down his spine and he suddenly missed the open sky. It's one thing to want to leave the forests and roam where the humans go, it's something else again to want to travel under the ground with the dwarves... and orcs.

 

Mattias shuddered suddenly turning back to join the others in the Fellowship, needing to talk.

 

Mattias approached Jin and seeing him preoccupied, possibly talking to Garnorn and Filk he veered off to approach Frerin instead.

 

"This place is unnerving to me, so unlike the forests and plains that I am used to. With the loss of Stoomp fresh in my mind I find myself fearing that we've somehow taken a turn for the worst. Talk to me friend Frerin. Tell me of the history of this place..."

 

Mattias and Frerin talked in low tones for some time while they and the rest of the Fellowship prepaired themselves to move on into the Mines of Moria. In low tones Frerin talked of the history of the mines and of the fate that befell them with the dwarves being driven forth and the darker races that took up residence once the dwarves had left. Finally when both had fallen silent Mattias asked another question.

 

"With so many looking out for the wellbeing of Stoomp, how could it be that he was the one taken by the creature in the lake? Am I alone fearing that someone amongst us has started falling to the darkness of... our fellowships burden?"

 

While waiting for Frerin's reply Mattias looked into the shadows beyond the Fellowships torches, trying to convince himself that the shadows moving out in the darkness was only his imagination at work.

 

~~~

 

OOC: No vote this round (unless I change my mind later). At this stage I honestly have no clue who to vote for.

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Jagkatha kept up a steady stream of swearwords in her mind as she followed the Fellowship through the invading darkness. Her skin crawled at the dirty, unaired smell of the place and she longed to take a bath to get rid of the mud and scum she could feel on herself.

 

She could hear Megwyn's steady breathing as the ranger walked behind her, but beyond that her keen senses were distorted by the echo of sounds that bounced off the walls and back again. She thought she could hear Mattias and Frerin talking, but in truth it could have been anyone.

 

The elf sighed wearily. Any one of them could be a traitor. And in this dark, no one would be able to tell until it was too late.

Checking the placement of her weapons, Jagkatha kept her head down and continued to follow the Company, her thoughts preoccupied with the deterioration of their situation.

 

OOC: No vote for me either sorry.

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'Wisdom of the elf lords'

They had advised the journey to these mines.

And one of the dwarves had died.

There was no love lost betwixt elves and dwarves.

Did they let one die knowing of the danger?

Weren't they all to the front, away from the lake, when the beast took Stoomp?

He couldn't be sure.

But he could watch.

He wondered if he should talk to another about his suspicions.

No, better wait until better evidence.

Just stay quiet and watch.

Watch the elves very carefully.

Especially the one with the temper that had the run in with Stoomp, Jagkatha.

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Jin nodded dumbly to Linador.

 

It was long moments before he could speak to the horsemaster, but once he could, his first words were, "Thank you, my friend. You are ever a soothing balm in dark times." The corner of Jin's mouth quirked upward into a pained smile. "No pun intended."

 

He sighed heavily as he walked on, ever more careworn, but now more than ever a walking beacon of warmth and brightness for all in the all-consuming blackness.

 

"I'm gladder than ever of levelheaded folk like yourself being with us, Linador. We need the elves now more than ever - your people for once not for your lore (though I am certain that each of you in particular, being kith and kin of Elrond's house know much of such places as this pit, as learned as every elf seems to be.)," he halted to take a gulp of air, as if he had been forgetting to breathe. "Ahh. No, moreso for the likelihood that you, or Jagkatha, or Baelstimah, or even brash Mattias could indeed detect that which all the rest of us cannot, and sneak upon foes before they could strike at us. Woe be to those who incur the wrath of an elf-lord! Your end will be swift and terrible!" Jin let out a short, choking laugh. Linador and Baelstimah were first to note in some alarm that in the stale yet cool air, Jin had begun to perspire heavily.

 

"I have oft longed for the senses and cunning of an elf in the dark; now I long a hundred times as much.", he continued, now muttering to himself. "How do you walk so comfortably, friend Linador, when the ceiling is scarcely higher than my head?"

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Linador sighed heavily as they stood before the gate of Moria, partly in relief at their arrival yet even more with an unnamed dread based in story and song of the horrors of the once glorious, now fallen city. He moved among the animals, softly caressing them while speaking words of calm and praise for their invaluable help. Those of the party who still had equipment or personal items set about unpacking the most valued items and determining how much they could carry of what remained, leaving many hands to occupy, if not calm, the animals as Linador made his careful way to each. They had all performed valiantly. Leaving one unpraised was unthinkable.

 

Baelestimah's companions were at the front of the line, thus among the last Linador came to. He nodded and smiled to Baelestimah as he softly stroked his pack horse's neck, asking simply "They will be going with you, even into Moria?" "They will," Baelestimah replied. "It would be harder otherwise." Linador nodded, then his attention was briefly drawn by Stoomp splashing his sliding way below the surface of the lake. Tentacles appeared, panicking the animals and sending those to the rear fleeing in terror. As they fled they left room for those in front to run as panick overtook them as well, drawing Linador's attention fully back to the horses and mules he knew and loved. Baelestimah's companions sensed evil, as had the others, and were on the verge of panic despite the known security of Baelestimah and Linador. Baelestimah had Horse Brother, so Linador caught his pack horse and tried to calm him.

 

"Into the gateway! Up the stairs! Quick!" came the shout, and Baelestimah and Linador urged Baelestimah's companions toward the gateway and into the gloom, using every bit of will to guide them from groping terror into depths of darkness. The doors crashed closed, and in a few moments a semblance of calm had been regained.

His attention focused on his union with his animal brothers and pack horse, Baelestimah didn't notice Lord Linador approach. warned by his brothers, Baelestimah quickly replied when addressed. Sounds of struggle then reached him and He noticed Stoomp in the water. Before He could react the tentales appeard and Linador yelled for them to enter the door. Hawk Brother grabbed Ferret Brother and flew him in. Seeing Linador grab pack horse. Baelestimah grabbed Horse Brother and moved towards the door. Wolf Brother racing besides him.

 

Once inside and people accounted for Baelestimah fummed. He had failed his lady. Stoomp's innocence would have made him a good ring bearer. He only hoped that the Ring was still safe and prayed for the poor dwarf's soul.

 

When they made ready to go Baelestimah's was forced to focus on caring for the horses and helping them traverse the area.Hawk Brother taking care of Ferret Brother and Wolf Brother able to take care of himself

 

OOC randomness calls for Venefyxatu => Neriam Therzyn, son of Elwen Therzyn, human to be judged/lynched

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A rest stop.

A trickle of water went down under a tall bridge.

A rope provided access.

They guarded in staggered shifts, 3 on guard at any one time.

Baelstimah had they way they came, Yeager the way they would go, Magwyn walked between and around.

Baelstimah was the first to hear it, a scabbering, movement of...something out there.

He motioned over Magwyn who cocked her head and nodded.

Something was out there.

She motioned to Yeager and motioned for him to listen.

From just this side of the bridge he listened to the other side and shook his head.

The way ahead was clear.

Magwyn went from person to person to wake them, through motions conveying that something was trying to sneak up on them.

They prepared for battle.

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Filk tossed in a restless sleep, vaguely remembering that it had been darker before he closed his eyes than after. He rolled over, bumping into cold, hard stone and nearly waking. Filk hadn't had occasion to try and sleep on cold stone before, and in the part of his mind that was more awake than asleep, he hoped never to have to again.

 

Flitting dreams cascaded across his dreaming vision. Home in the Shire, a dry, cozy hobbit hole waited for him, he was sure, and he could almost see it, could almost taste hot tea and fresh biscuits.

 

Rivendell passed before his eyes, a woodcarver who'd been lost in an avalanche and a dwarf who'd called him Kormoose walking and talking happily. Still alive, not sucked into a lake by... something.

 

Even the trip so far, up until Caradhras, had been pleasant enough, in a bleak sort of way. And now two of their party were gone, one surely dead, the other most likely so. Filk shivered, dimly aware that someone was shaking him, but not wanting to wake up.

 

There was something tickling at the back of his mind, a feeling that Stoomp hadn't just gotten caught by whatever was in that water, but that he had turned back at the last moment. Lured in, like a fish on a hook.

 

But who could have done something like that? Stoomp was a bit of a clutz, yes, but he'd been a very nice Dwarf, even if he had broken all those dishes and spilled food all over-

 

Filk sat up in a rush of nerves to see Magwyn putting a finger to her mouth. Or at least he thought it was Magwyn, the light down here wasn't very good.

 

She leaned in close and whispered in the hobbit's ear.

 

"Get yourself hidden, halfling... there might be trouble soon. Go on now." And then she was off, shaking others awake and whispering to them. Filk rubbed his eyes blearily, remembering what he'd been dreaming, and it filled him with a sense of dread.

 

Stoomp had caused trouble for one of the Company, and now he was gone...

 

~~Dreadful Vote for Jagkatha~~

 

Edit for spelling. Ach.

Edited by Finnius
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Jagkatha woke almost immediately when she felt Megwyn's hand on her shoulder. Hearing the noises herself, she nodded to the ranger and shook off her tiredness like a blanket, quietly reaching for her bow staff and a string.

 

Making almost no noise, the elf strung her bow, senses constantly searching the gloom for the location of the sounds as she checked the position of her knives and notched an arrow into her bow string, moving into position as she watched and waited.

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As Jin backed slowly into the nearest crevice, Rootmaker rumbled, "Stay your hands for now, friends. Let us see who this may be before we move to slay them." He shifted slightly, as though to adjust his view forward and at his back, Jin shrieked in sheer terror.

 

"KEEP AWAY FROM ME!!!!!!"

 

 

(Seothen/Patrick)

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Linador slid into a restless half-sleep, watchfullness ever weighing heavily on his mind. Nervous noises from the horses, careful footsteps of those on guard, muffled noises from nightmare-ridden Jin, and the persistent sense of listening for something just out of hearing all drifted in and through dreams until it took several seconds every time he woke to separate dream from reality.

 

Tonight, or whenever this sleep time was, disturbing thoughts of Stoomp wove themselves through memory and watchfullness in dream. HOW had he ended up in the lake? He was clumsy, yes, but certainly even he was not so foolish as to stumble into water which had left Rootmaker shuddering? But who would have, who *could* have, pushed him? Seothen and Baelestimah had been near the gate with their horses, just ahead of him. Jin had been staring at the gate when Falmar opened it, in wonder or in terror wasn't certain. Everyone else had been unloading the packs, hadn't they? Who could have slipped away unnoticed? Again, Yeager had made a point of being able to. But would he, if that were his plan? And could not elf or ranger do so? Elf - a horrible thought. Jagkatha was the natural suspect, and she was hotheaded to be certain. Hotheaded, but not cold-blooded, and she'd not been raging at Stoomp for some time. Irvin had been close enough the lake monster grabbed him first. Could it have been him? Or Megwyn, who was close enough to slash him loose?

 

As if reality heard muddled half-dream, Megwyn was there laying a hand on Linador's shoulder, which was all it took to wake him. He sat up wordlessly, listening, and nodded to the ranger. Making sure his scabbards made no noise on the stone floor as he stood, he caught up his bow and moved into position to wait for whatever made the noises he could now hear clearly. Perhaps as the horses moved across the bridge whatever approached would think they all moved on and become careless...

 

 

OOC: for once, the dice decree something I could halfway justify... a hesitant vote for Vahktang/Yeager Tickle-Bottom

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Turin unsheathed his sword, and took a look around the portion of the Pit they were in. They'd moved a good ways from when they first entered, and were in a natural choke point, with a bridge ahead and a narrower portion of passage behind. It was, he thought, an excellent point for defense.

 

He moved slowly forward toward Seothen and Warud, and heard no sound besides the rustling of other members of the company, and the slight clinking of his own mail. He took up a place on the opposide side of the Rohirrim's steed from Seothen, and prepared to meet whatever might come.

 

(OOC: and a vote for Vahktang/Yeager Tickle-Bottom)

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Frerin sat despondently, his head bowed forward in grief, burdened with sorrow at the loss of Stoomp. Despite the lad's slow thoughts, he had been a cheerful addition to the companions, and he was dwarvern kin as well. His loss to whatever monster had laired in the lake weighed heavily on Frerin... why... why had he been standing in the lake in the first place? He had been bent forward as if looking for something... maybe he had dropped something...

 

His thoughts turned darker. Perhaps one of the companions had suggested there was something to look for... even knew of the monster in the depths. But which of them would wish Stoomp harm? He immediately thought of a red-flushed face, eyes narrowed in anger as she tried to strike Stoomp... the elf, Jagkatha... but hadn't she been near the front of the column?

 

A hand shook his shoulder and he flinched away, hand finding the hilt of his axe. "There's something coming." Magwyn whispered before hurrying to the next person in the line. Frerin's eyes followed her. Jagkatha had been near the front of the line... but had Magwyn been? She was close friends with Jagkatha... close enough to avenge insults with death?

 

As he picked up axe and shield once more, he vowed that he'd keep a close eye on her.

 

(OOC: A vote for Magwyn/Phoenix)

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Jagkatha was the first to see them and let fly.

It hit the goblin in the throat so it fell silently, not able to warn it's fellows.

The other bowmen opened fire at the same time, felling several.

The band, knowing the sneaking was up, rushed forward with a yell.

"Back to the bridge," yelled Turing, "make them come to us."

While he, Garnorn, and Seothen had a holding action, with the bowman supporting, the others grabbed equipment and backed away from the main battle.

The front men gave ground but slowly, their mail and shields stopping all but the luckiest blows, but the numbers against them seemed large.

"Get ready to run if we need to," said Megwyn.

"Dwarves don't run from a few goblins," said Frerin

"Where would we run to," rumbled Rootmaker.

"Up the passage," she replied, her sword biting deep into a rather pesky goblin.

"The goblins coming the other way may make that hard," said Rootmaker.

Sure enough a glance across the bridge showed a number of goblins rushing to the far side to flank them.

"Yeager," said Jin, running to the far end to hold it.

Yeager dropped the bundle he was carrying.

"I was busy. Called away."

He reached into his pocket and threw a stone, not in the face of the nearest goblin, but in the knee. It fell, and the ones running behind piled up on that one, delaying them enough for Jin to get into position.

"Maybe we can escape by climbing down," said Irvin. He reached the railing and peered down, then looked again thinking he saw movement.

He threw down the brand he had that revealed dozens of goblins on the ground below.

"Not that way either," he gulped.

There was a clink behind him and he turned and saw a climbing iron had been thrown and was set.

"Little help," he said, going to cut the rope and hearing a number of other clinks along the long bridge.

"Little helping," said Filk, running along the bridge to cut lines.

Their equipment was well on the bridge, the front men suffering small wounds, the bowmen beginning to check their ammunition, wondering if there were more goblins than arrows and fearing it so.

How would they get out of this?

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As the battle continued, Yeager kept an eye on Jagkatha, but not so much as to risk his life.

If they came out of this, she'd probably blame him for not warning about the flanking.

She'd have a grudge, and elves could be very subtle when holding a grudge.

And patient, too.

Elves were said to hold a slight for much longer than other folk.

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Jin looked as though he might be violently sick at any moment, but he still managed held onto his knife. Yeager seemed to think he had been asking for support, but the dwarf's quiet shame was that he had been calling for help as he attempted to flee the battle. The guilt and anger churned his stomach further, and the walls began to close on him. Three goblins armed with sword and sheild rushed at him as they spied the falter.

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