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Old 11-29-2008, 06:15 AM   #12
Legate of Amon Lanc
A Voice That Gainsayeth
 
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Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: In that far land beyond the Sea
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Lóni

Trór's shout brought him to his senses.

A moment ago, he was just watching the skies, observing the heavenly lamps, as they were hanging high in the sky on Durin's Day. A rare sight, and here, by the Lake Mirrormere, it was as if the history and all the tales of Dwarvenkind he had heard from his brother suddenly came true, and as if it was here, present, now. Durin, Náin, Borin, Thráin, Frosti, Helmi... all the names of the Dwarven heroes of old, who have ever stood in this place, came to Lóni's mind. Their tales, their fates. The legends. Some lead the Dwarven folk into deep caverns beneath Caradhras, some built marvelous halls, some fought nameless monsters in the darkness far below the world of the Sun and the Moon. Some have stood even here, maybe where he is standing now, or by the great Mirrormere itself. There were also those who fought here, in Dimrill Dale, and Lóni remembered them all. Some who fought victoriously, some found their deaths, but now the time seemed to disappear, they were not past, they were all here, both living and dead, right here and right now.

Thrór, Thráin, Thorin, Dáin... and Balin.

He did not hear the hiss of the arrow, and it was only Trór's cry which brought him back to reality. He had only a moment to see the Lord fall. He heard how Náli hissed next to him with his breath. Then Trór's mighty stature covered his sight.

And then he saw them. Goblins. Rushing down from the steep slope, they swarmed like black ants. They moved towards the lake.

Náli by his side moved. Lóni followed, automatically. The Dwarves ran towards the lake to be there first, to cut off the black enemies from lying Balin. Cowards, a thought fled through Lóni's mind. Shot him when he was unexpecting, unarmed. Unknown fear shook him. Balin was wounded. The great Dwarf of this age, cowardly attacked like that... there was no time for him to worry, but deep inside, almost unconsciously, Lóni hoped that Balin's wound was not fatal.

They have reached the place and stopped, like a wall they stood to block the attackers' way. Swiftly, Lóni pulled out his light mace. Right in time, as the first enemies came. A tall, long-legged orc thrusted his spear against Lóni, but was unbalanced by Náli's strike. Lóni seized the opportunity and countered. He was fast, but the orc succeeded to parry with a small round wooden shield. Looking around, the enemy stepped back and left space to his incoming companions.

"Hold your ground! Defend the king!" Trór shouted.

The goblins swarmed about them, surrounded them, yet neither of them could reach the body of Balin. We have to dispatch them, Lóni thought, we have to crush them and then carry Balin inside, fast, before he dies.

Left and right, left and right he directed his strikes.

The sun and the moon seemed so big, as they crossed the heavenly path, and the water of the lake was dark as night. Cold was creeping out of the surface of the lake, and Lóni could have sworn that he felt the chill stealing the heat of the body of the fallen Lord of Moria, who lay next to him.

Left, right, left, right. The two mountain goblins with scimitars kept attacking him from both sides and did not give Lóni a moment of rest. But he was fast, swinging his light weapon and parrying their blows. The yellow stone in his helmet gleamed like a twin of the great yellow stone in the sky. Suddenly, he heard a warning cry from Náli. He turned right in time. The long-legged orc who attacked him before, managed to move towards his right, and got into Lóni's blind spot when his attention was directed elsewhere. Now, the Dwarf could only try to avoid the spear. Not fast enough. The steel rings of his hauberk made a chiming sound when the enemy's weapon was forced against their protective shell with full strength.

But they held. Feeling pain in his right side, Lóni swung with full strength from the right. The orc was too tall. The mace hit his side and there was a crushing sound. The enemy fell on one knee and Lóni led his strike for the second time. The orc's head swung in a funny way and he fell to the ground.

Lóni's helmet rung like a bell and his eyes darkened for a while. He turned and saw a goblin with scimitar. Had there not been Náli, whose presence distracted the enemies from focusing solely on Lóni, the goblin's strike would have surely been directed in a far deadlier manner. From where he stood, Lóni turned and using the energy of the blow, he hit the goblin's head. He could only notice the fear in the enemy's eyes when he realised that he cannot parry Lóni's blow. As the mace hit the goblin's face, he gave out a loud shriek and with a disgusting sound, he fell to the ground, wincing. After a few heartbeats he stopped, motionless.
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