Last Hope for Moria RPG

[Taralphiel]

Maron

Standing and listening to the eulogy, young Maron felt more empty than ever in his life. Springing forward and chasing after orcs had served to let the bitterness and rage well up and spill out, and his axe was a testament to that. Now thoroughly chipped and stained inky black, he looked at it and sighed.

'Why am I even here' he thought bleakly to himself as the eulogy ended. He knew not, and doubted now that their leader was dead that he ever would know.

He stood and saw Lin weeping, and at all the others not knowing what words would fit. And he knew that as one of the clumsiest of them all, he would do less than good. He turned thumbed at his axe.

'Needs a good sharpening' he thought to himself again 'As do our spirits. This is a loss to suffer. But what shall we do now? Im the least of people to know that. I shall have to see what comes out of all of this...'

[Melisil]

The general mood around the Dwarfs was horrible. Lóni hated it. A thought struck him. Well, as well as one of his thoughts could (they were terribly jumbled). The Dwarf stood up, looking around at his other Dwarfs, he addressed them all, "Dwarfs all! My kinsmen all here! You all know how terribly horrible we feel. Balin dead, Orcs almost everywhere. But why should we give in? Why?" Lóni looked around at the Dwarfs again. They were listening, but only for the sake of listening. "Dwarfs! I propose we have a celebration to-night!!"

Almost all of the Dwarfs looked up at him, confusion and wearyness etched on their faces. Lóni continued, "Yes, a celebration. We can make it a celebration of Balin's life, and of our lives. God knows that we need something special to happen. Please, let us do this." he implored.

"Lóni, sit down." came one Dwarfs reply, "We shouldn't have a celebration."

Lóni looked at the Dwarf, Lóni knew that he was just as weary as him, "And why not? Why not? We need this, we do. At least it'd be better then this horrible gloom. I can assure you, I can, that we will not survive this time, if we are in such horrible spirits as this. Please, my fellow Dwarfs, I implore you. Please. And if you can't do this out of your own spirits," he added, "can you try to have a celebration, to left all our spirits, for Balin? For me?" Lóni swallowed. He couldn't read the other Dwarfs expressions, but he hoped that they would agree. Lóni may not have been completely in his senses then, but he had it etched in his mind that they should have a party. On the other hand, he wouldn't do much if they didn't go along with it either. I hope. he thought to himself in a thought-whisper, as he scanned the faces of the Dwarfs.

[Imladris]

“Orcs, Ori!” Oin shouted, bursting into the Chamber of Records. His face was white and he panted. “They are gathering around the gates like flies to fruit,” he added. “I’ve barred the gates.”

Ori nodded, and shot a glance at Flori. The orcs had done well killing Balin. The fire that usually burned in the heart of the dwarves was low, nothing but embers in the wake of Balin’s death. That did not bode well with Ori. Dispirited dwarves could be easily vanquished. “We can still hold Moria,” Ori said. “But we must fight bravely, not letting our grief weaken our arm. Station yourselves at the Bridge,” he ordered, picking up his journal and picking through the leaves. “Linsie and Mali, you do not have to go if you do not wish to,” he added.

Finding the empty page he wrote:

We have barred the gates from the scurrilous orcs. I fear that at the death of Balin, they have rallied themselves together to attack us. We can hold them long if they do not attack us in an orderly fashion. But even if they burst through the gates, they cannot hope to cross the bridge without a great loss of their own. If they do break through the gate, I expect we will die a horrible death and maybe even suffer for a time in their cruel hands. However, we can always escape towards Hollin if we cannot defeat them at the Gates.

[mark12_30]

With a snort, Lînsie wondered why she was suddenly considered delicate and vulnerable. had she not fought well til now? Had she not accounted for her share of orcs?

Ori did not see the scowl that she sent his way, and it was just as well. Perhaps I should go out on to the hillside and fetch my false beard, she thought, fingering the edge of her axe.

She looked at the page Ori was writing on, and scowled. "How do we know that the Hollin gate is free? There could be just as many enemies there as here. Is it wise to plan a retreat when we don't know whether the road is safe?"

[Amanaduial the archer]

Flori grinned briefly, seeing Lin scowl darkly at his brother's last comment.

"Don't take it personally, lass," he murmured by her ear, grinning. Lin spun around, a wry smile on her lips, then a faraway look came into her eyes, and a certain sadness. Flori cursed himself for his carelessness as he suddenly realised what she was thinking about - Balin always called her lass...

"Do it for him, Lin. Hold Moria for Balin," he replied to her thoughts, then turned to Oin, standing by his brother, snapping into battle mode. "Oin, how many were there?"

The dwarf shook his head, pale-faced before his eyes returned to Flori's. "Maybe...fifty were in sight. But there were more coming - there could be hundreds, even thousands!" There was an edge of panic in the dwarf's voice. Flori swore and rubbed his beard with a hand, fighting the panic that was rising within him.

"How do we know that the Hollin gate is free? There could be just as many enemies there as here. Is it wise to plan a retreat when we don't know whether the road is safe?"Lin interjected. Flori nodded to her.

"Good point - Oin, could you go and check whether it is free? But...be careful down there. I don't think we can afford any more losses..."

[mark12_30]

Her eyes narrowing, Lînsie considered Oin. "You want him to go alone?"

"We can't spare any warriors, " replied Flori. "We need all our strength to hold the Gates."

"Apparently, I am not needed at the gates, since Ori said I didn't have to fight there, " Lînsie replied in a steely-cold voice. "I may as well be useful somehow."

Ori looked angry, but Flori looked at Oin. "She has a point. About not sending you alone, I mean."

[Imladris]

Ori stared at Oin, Flori, and Linsie. They had a point -- Orcs could crawl within the caverns, other unknown evils lurk in the dark. With a wave of his hand he said, “Fine…do as you will.”

He left Oin and Linsie in the chamber, and went to the Bridge. Distantly he could hear the orcs cackle, the dull banging upon the gates and they tried to force them open. The Dwarves were scattered behind rocks…waiting for the orcs to burst through like vile water through a flimsy dam.

He drummed his fingers against the wood of his short, stocky bow. His quiver was full of plenty of arrows. He hoped that the way to Hollin would be clear, so that they could escape that way. Maybe they could drop by the Shire and visit good old Bilbo again since they would be on the right side of the mountain. He sighed and notched an arrow to the string.