View Single Post
Old 12-04-2008, 07:53 PM   #35
Groin Redbeard
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
Groin Redbeard's Avatar
Join Date: Nov 2007
Location: Facing the world's troubles with Christ's hope!
Posts: 1,735
Groin Redbeard is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.Groin Redbeard is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.

The feast had begun mere moments ago! Nisa found her place next to Adela, a typical dwarf women who Nisa found intriguing. Although they had little in common, Adela was capable of the occasional good deed, and although Nisa surely appeared as stuffy overly formal to Adela, they had struck up a friendship and had kept it strong during those five years of the colony.

Both of them were busy devouring a piece of roast mutton when the sound of a horn was heard, it was the signal of the return of Balin. Adela and Nisa exchanged excited glances, they knew that the best part of the feast was to come now that the lord of Khazad-dum had returned.


The precession continued through the gates in reverent silence, Trór still felt the aching pain in his heart as clearly as if it had been that moment that Balin had fallen. Again he felt tears run down his beard, but his figure did not quake with weeping, he still stood proud and tall. They were descending the stairs that led to Durin's bridge, beyond that lay Twenty-Second Hall, and then the Twenty-First Hall, no doubt there would be much merry making and celebration going on, all of that will be shattered within a few moments. Trór suddenly felt someone grab his arm he was about to lead the group across the bridge, it was Kenan.

“But surely, you do not mean to take him up there? Before all the children?” he asked.

Trór stared at him for a long moment, he was right, this was not something that the children should be subjected to, but thus was life and there was no hiding it.

"What would you have me do then?" Trór asked coldly, "would you have me leave our lord's body here to lie upon the cold stone floor?"

Kenan reared himself proudly, he did not deserve this treatment for a simple remark. At this Trór's expression softened.

"No, my friend, we will bring his body with us. However, I will not bring his body in with me at first. You shall wait in the Twenty- Second Hall with..." Trór glanced at Balin's lifeless body, "with our lord. I will break the news to the colony alone."

They crossed the bridge and strode in silence through the hall until they came to the entrance of the Twenty-First Hall. Trór slowly raised his hand, signaling for the others to stop. His body shook at the thought of announcing such news, he felt his cheeks go red with nervousness, but he overcame it. Fearlessly, Trór slowly walked to meet the masses of his kin awaiting the return of Balin.

A loud cheer arose as he entered, many were there that he knew, all of them wore bright expressions of glee on their face. Trór stood as if he were at attention until the cheering subsided, and then his body shook. At once the crowd knew something was out of the ordinary, it was not like the hard soldier to show any feelings of fear, yet that is what he showed. He opened his mouth, but for no words came from him for a moment and even when Trór began to speak he started almost at a whisper.

"The needs of many out weigh the needs of a few, or of one," he began, the crowd immediately guessed that this was a speech about about a significant figure, but who: Durin, Thorin, Thror, Balin. They stayed silent and waited for him to continue.

"This is a concept that our noble lord, Balin, has always upheld. It is because of him that this great colony, this great city of our ancestors has been reclaimed and restored to us, their inheritors. We are gathered here today to pay respects to our honored father, Durin. Though something else has happened today that we shall remember as long as Durin's Day is celebrated. Our lord, and mighty ruler, Balin has fallen!"

A loud cry of horror arouse from the crowd, some of the men exchanged doubtful glances at each other as some of the more older dwarves began to openly weep.

"It was not thirty minutes ago that I witnessed the fall of our lord, who stood upon the banks of Kheled-zaram as an orc arrow pierced his heart. The orcs were swiftly and justly slain, but how can their deaths lessen the pain that we feel at the loss of our great leader?

"The words that I say cannot fully express the loss that I feel, he was my ruler... nay, he was more than a ruler, he was my king. It is only right and fitting that we should mourn the loss of our king, but I pray that his vision shall not be forgotten with his death. Khazad-dum is our home, and through his sacrifice, Balin has given us new hope for the future of our race. It should be noted that in the midst of our sorrow, that this death takes presence in the shadow of new life: the sunrise of a new generation." Trór stepped forward to the two young twins, Tív and Tíva. Trór had not forgotten his cousin's news of their birthday that morning.

"A generation that our leader gave his life to protect, a generation whose children will dwell in these halls after our bones have turned to dust. I know that Balin did not fear his sacrifice, never has the death of one who has died so that his brother may live be ashamed of. We should not forget his profound wisdom too quickly, and we should not fail to remember his devotion to us, his people.

“Of my friend I can say only this: of all the kings I have served, of all the dwarves I have known, he was the most...worthy!”

Balin’s body was led in, his white face seemed radiant when reflected with the torches that lit the great hall in splendor. A long line of mourners followed the body as Trór led the bearers to the end of the great hall and to the Chamber of Marzabul. There they laid him on a great marble stone at the foot of his throne and one by one the people came up to pay their respects to the dead king.

Last edited by Groin Redbeard; 12-04-2008 at 07:59 PM.
Groin Redbeard is offline