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Old 12-29-2008, 03:20 PM   #75
Himaran
Ash of Orodruin
 
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Join Date: Jan 2003
Location: Thangorodrim
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The heavy latch fell into place and Dalin breathed a long sigh. Was it relief? He felt somewhat safe, at least. Or perhaps it was merely an expression of his troubled spirit. Since recovering from his grief long enough to leave the hall and return to his quarters, the dwarf had watched countless others drift off into the caverns in grief, despair and bewilderment. He was strangely fascinated by how their differing emotions manifested in physical ways, particularly subtle hand gestures. Those with families clutched one another, reassuring young and old alike that their situations were far from dire while comforting the distraught. Others walked with a new determination and purpose, hands kept noticably closer to visible weaponry, as if prepared to strike out against an unseen foe.

But a third group troubled Dalin; these individuals walked alone, hands nervously clenched, fidgeting and glancing furtively left and right. The atmosphere among these dwarves was tense and smelled of panic and fear. Hushed voices whispered back forth as rumors began to spread; some said that an orc army had already invaded the upper levels. Others swore that outsiders weren't involved at all, but that Balin has been murdered by one of his own. A fringe gathering were even rambling about a dragon's involvement in the affair. Dalin didn't know what to believe, but found the rammifications of the collective possibilities to be terrifying. Safe at last in his home, he re-examined the lock to make sure it was secure. "Not a day to be taking chances," he muttered.

Last edited by Himaran; 12-29-2008 at 03:29 PM.
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