[Himaran]

When the uruks had attacked, Dwali was right in the middle of them. Rage had taken hold, like nothing he had ever felt before. His axe cleaved through them, winding its way on path of destruction. No longer would he flee, and leave it to others to protect him! No longer would he fall off to the side, and listen as his friends battled for their lives! Those that charged him were instantly slain, for the young warrior was in his element. No longer will I let you live!

Addreneline, however, does not come in endless supply. Soon the dwarf was exhausted, and making mistakes which could prove deadly. His guard was often down, going for a kill when he should have defended. Then a club crashed into the side of his head, and Dwali stumbled forward. He turned and slew his assailant, but was immediately attacked by another. And at last he fell to his knees and collapsed... for to him, the sound of the Rangers' horns were trumpets announcing that his time in this world had ended.

But it was not to be.

***

The grass under his feet... the fresh, crisp air... the songs of nearby birds... all had been distant memories. As if living in a dream, Dwali lay on his back and took in everything. His world had literally changed overnight, from the land of darkness to the land of light. It was all so peaceful, without guards and whips, cruel blades and filthy cells. Cirith Ungol was a thing of the past, and the dwarf hoped that it would remain so, along with his escape from it. How the rangers defeated the remaining orcs and saved the surviving company meant little to him; many uruks were felled by his blade, and that was of sole importance.

Surrounded with such peaceful beauty, it was hard for the dwarf to feel pessimistic or at odds with a particular party. But there was still a deep sadness for the dear friend he had left behind. Dorim would never be able to hear the sounds of the woods again, or enjoy the cool taste of fresh water from a running brook. No, he would remain forever in Mordor... but not in the clutches of the orcs.

Dwali stood and walked around the clearing slowly, once again admiring Ithillien's beauty. Now he was free, to live and decide what his future would be. Excitement pulsed through him; there was so much left to see! The land of darkness was gone, and it would never return.

Goodbye, Dorim. You cannot traverse the rest of this great world, but I will do it for you. And we shall meet again, somewhere... in a happier and brighter place than this.