Last Hope for Moria RPG

[Melisil]

Loni stood watching for a while. After the dwarf who was singing finished his second song, Loni gave him brief applause before leaving the other dwarves and heading to his temporary room.

After recieving his message from Balin by Dwarin, Loni had packed a rather large pile of things into his pack, travelled down to King Dain's hall, told them he was there, and claimed a room. The room he had claimed was by now fairly full of the different odds and ends of wich he had brought with him.

Loni looked around his room. "Ah! I don't want to be carrying all this up and down mountains!" the dwarf exclaimed upon entering; And so, he began to sort out which things to keep and which to leave behind.

After about fifteen minutes work(he wasn't the most patient dwarf around), little progress had been made. Because of this, Loni stood up, dropped his 'keep' pile in a carrying sack, and the 'leave' pile onto his bed.

"There. Now that that's done, I will rejoin the others in their festivities!" he said, and so he did.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 5:02 PM January 26, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Will Witfoot]

Alrik cheered the lad that had comprised the song with the other members of the expedition. It sure did lift his old heart to see such enthusiasm towards the quest.

Bowing to his king and Balin he began to stride back towards the Lonely Mountain. A pint or three before going to bed would not hurt, now would it?
His mind was busy imagining all the wonders they could yet work with the craft of their ancestors at their posession, and his hands longed for Mithríl, to be able to forge the stuff into fine weapons and corcelets of armour.

It was a long time since he had felt so excited.

[Amanaduial the archer]

The Night Before the Departure

After he had left the king's hall, Flori had spent some time in his room, setting out what he would and wouldn't need. It seemed so strange, and a sense of ironic calm had come over the dwarf, however doom-laden; what would he want for the expedition which could be his last...?

After a while, the dwarf stood and stretched, stifling a yawn with his hand. Should be going to bed soon...'twill be a long day in front of us tomorrow-

He froze mid-thought and almost laughed aloud. It was his last night in Erebor and he intended to go to bed early?! He grinned wickedly and looked out into the darkening sky. At night, the Inns came alive...ach, sure, it wouldn't hurt...

~*~

Stumbling out of 'Durin's Anvil' some time later, followed by cheery, drunken shouts of "Go get em, Flori!" and "Spend your time well, m'boy! They won't stand a chance against you those stinkin...stinking...whassat?", along with various impromptu toasts, Flori grinned and gave a bow to the Inn's open door. The cheering and laughter which followed, muffled slightly after a few moments by the shutting of the door, pursued Flori down the road as he strolled down. He wasn't as drunk as he could be - didn't make a habit of getting drunk unless he had a really, really good reason to drown his sorrows - but he had certainly had enough to be...merry. Whistling a chirpy little tune, he walked nonchantly down the path, thumbs stuck in his belt.

Stopping and taking a deep, contented sigh, Flori looked back in amusement at the Inn...and his gaze was suddenly caught by the mountain, and he found himself looking at it as if for the first time.

This may sound ridiculous of course; Flori and his brother had lived in Erebor for years and he knew every nook and cranny of it...but when was the last time he had really looked at it? When was the last time he really saw the way it was now, the lights of the houses, Inns and forges lighting little spotlights or pinpricks of light around the mountain like fireflies? When had he last taken in the great sense of life around it? When had he last been awed by the way, over the undercurrents of life and merriment, the mountain was also alive, sleeping and calm and huge?

Must have been when you first came, he answered himself, remembering that day. He and Ori had been so awed by Erebor, by its great and beautiful vastness, by the way the dwarves had continued to build it up into a wonderful kingdom. They had been much younger then, of course, and it had seemed so incredibly exciting at the time; Ori, even the scribe, had described it as being because they were 'embarking on a new chapter of their lives'.

Flori smiled quietly to himself, thinking of the way his brother had been so serious and sensitive when they were young, against the way Flori himself had been bursting with all sorts of energy (for a dwarf). And yet they had remained as close as ever, thick as theives; another of the reasons Flori had to go to Moria. He wouldn't let his brother go into such danger by himself. And as he looked up on the vast mountain, remembering the excitement of seeing Erebor grow, he saw yet another reason; he could watch Moria grow as it was restored, watch youngsters like himself and Ori then, chatter excitedly, awed by the huge halls, the vast amounts of treasure, the wonder of the greatest dwarrow-delf ever...

"If I could glimps the hardest of steels,
life would be as sweet as honey on the tastiest of meals.
A light so...so...Bother, what was it so?"

The voice of one of the dwarves who would be embarking with Balin made Flori turn as the unsteady singing trailed off into speaking. Two of the stood there in fact: one of them Frar, the lute-player (Flori had noticed it stuck in the other's bag and thought to comment upon it later), and the other masked in shadow so Flori couldn't quite see his face. He grinned at them, then stretched his mind with effort back to Nali's song-words to the familiar tune, murmuring under his breath, his brow wrinkled.

"...strong" He ventured. Frar clicked his fingers. "Sounds about right! Strong...strong..."

"Strong, was it? Wasn't it so strong the..."

"Oh, I think so yes...Now so strong the...what shall what?"

After a few more seconds in befuddled concentration, the pair were suddenly rewarded as the other dwarf cried out loudly, "[i]...the spine will chill!"

"...the treasure...no, the everlasting treasure of Moria's mithril?!" Flori finished, triumphantly. They all gave a small cheer, feeling absurdly pleased with themselves, and looking back at the mountain in an air of drunken contentedness. Flori grinned to himself beneath his beard; a new chapter in the book of his life, and this chapter certainly had some very interesting characters...

[Orual]

Óin, his eyes still foggy with sleep, stumbled out of his house. It was far too early in the morning. Glóin had spent the evening with him, into the early hours, wishing him off with a nice supper, since the soon-to-be adventurer had left the celebrations early.

"It's no good going into an expedition with an attitude like yours, Óin," Glóin commented, taking his pipe out of his pack. "The beginning of an adventure...bother, where did I put that pipe...the beginning...ah, there it is...where was I?"

"The beginning of an adventure..." prompted Óin, a little grumpy still but willing to listen to his brother after a good supper.

"Oh, right. The beginning of an adventure is the mold by which the whole adventure is formed. You can be the ill-tempered old coot who everybody wishes had stayed home, or you can enjoy it. Just think of old Bilbo. He didn't want to go, either, but he developed a taste for it by the end. Remember those spiders?"

The brothers laughed nostalgically, and then Óin sighed. "This isn't the same sort of adventure at all," he said. "No there-and-back again, as Bilbo put it. This is there-and-stay-there."

"Then why go?" Glóin asked, leaning over the table. Óin remained silent. "If you really don't want to go, Balin would understand."

A sullen, closed-off look crept onto Óin's face. "Balin would understand, but I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened that maybe I could have prevented," he responded.

Glóin sighed. "Do what you must, Óin, but be truthful to yourself." He stood up, and walked over to his brother's chair. Óin stood up in turn, and Glóin embraced him. "Do what you must," he repeated.

Óin walked out into the waning starlight, and took a deep breath of the crisp pre-sunrise air. Now for it. Now for glory and honor.

He snorted. Now for a lot of walking, at least. Time to go see Moria.

[The Perky Ent]

The battle in the darkness began. As the battle raged, Nali took out his ax and began swinging it like a sickle. One by one, orc’s started to fall off the bridge. It looked easy, until Nali noticed two dwarf’s fall off to join the dead. During the battle, a large, fat orc jumped up behind the dwarf Maron. It seamed like he would also join the dead, until Nali threw his ax and the orc fell into the chasm. Maron would have thanked him, had he not 40 orcs to deal with, so Nali ignored and began swatting orcs with his club.

One by one, the thousands of orcs began to die. It seamed like the dwarf’s would eventually win. With only a few orcs left, Nali no longer needed to fight, so he sat on a rock and watched the dwarf’s brawl. As he watched, he noticed a shimmer under the belley of a dead orc. As Nali lifted the orc and threw him aside, he saw it. Beautiful, Precious, Perfect. Mithril. A small hunk of mithril was now in Nali’s possession. With joy, Nali began to sing:

though the fire and darkness consumed
I need not ever sweep with broom,
No longer slave on wooded loom,
For now I cannot meet my doom.
For I have a piece of heaven.

Suddenly, as Nali was looking at the mithril, the fighting stopped. There was silence. Then, there was a faint voice echoing in the bridge. It was a orc. He was singing. Suddenly, a giant army of orcs rushed into the bridge, leaving Nali and the others un-prepared. Nali sprang up with his new mithril to join his last battle.

These orcs fought with ten times the strength of their predecessors. As one orc approached the battlefield, the other orcs moved away from his path. Clearly he was a leader. Without thinking, Nali charged at the orc and swung his club at it. In the blink of an eye, the orc blocked it and threw the club off the bridge. “I am Uzgash. I command. I win.” The orc said as he prepared to finish off Nali. Finding his only hope, Nali took out his mithril, and with a sigh, he thrusted it into the orcs chest. With a great scream, the orc fell off the bridge.

Nali, however, didn’t hear the screams of Uzgash. Something was wrong. Then, before Nali could breath, Uzgash jumped up from the bridge and chopped off Nali’s leg. Nali began to fall. As he fell, Uzgash started singing:

My Blade Went Chop Chop
And His Leg Went Plop Plop

He Had Laughter
But I Was Faster
He Should Have Ducked
He's Out Of Luck

My Axe Went Swish Swish
His Blood Went Squish Squish

He Knocked Me Down
That Bearded Clown
He Beat My Chest
But Now He's Laid to Rest

My Knife Went Swoosh Swoosh
His Limbs Went Sploosh Sploosh

He Thought Me Dead
He Died Instead
He Was Tough
But Not Enough

The Dwarves March Boom Boom
My Axe Swings Doom Doom

As Nali fell, he could see light, and his leg, drift out of focus and then dissapear. After a few seconds, Nali could see nothing. “It was all in vain. Darkness has consumed fell” Nali said as he gave up hope of surviving and began to fall even faster. And as Nali saw the rocks at the bottom of the chasm grow closer, he could only thing of one thing.

Freedom

[mark12_30]

Linsie and Narin came down through several back passages, and then came up against a wall of orcs. They could see their friends on the far side, and the orcs could see them. Narin and Linsie shared one glance and then the orcs were upon them.

Linsie stepped away from Narin, and their axes flashed in the torchlight. With a ferocity neither knew they poseessed, they strode through the wall of enemies, leaving corpses in their wake. They hardly saw them, and indeed, hardly saw each other, til they had won entirely through to the other side. A cheer rose from the dwarves, and they sprinted to join their friends. They were almost there when an arrow pierced Linsie's shoulder at her armor joint. She kept running, and she and Narin left the rest of the orc-arrows behind.

"You have been hit, " Narin said to Linsie, full of concern.

"It is not bad, " Linsie replied. Narin wished there was time to care for it; there was a brief pause in the fighting. Moren greeted them. "Well done, lads. Quite a bloody trail you left behind you. That's worth a song."

Linsie and Narin looked back, and saw what Moren meant. There were a dozen dead orcs and several more wounded where they had won through. They shared a satisfied nod, but Moren noticed they did not smile. He guessed why.

"Oin...?"

Linsie shook her head. And Narin replied, "We did find the far Hollin Gate. And the way was clear... almost."

"What befell him?"

"We opened the gates, and stepped outside. But the light coming in through the gates half blinded us. We did not see the orcs coming behind us til they were almost upon us. They were just a few guards, but we had to fight them. And they drove us out the gate and towards the water. We wondered why."

Moren shuddered. "I could have told you... the Watcher."

Linsie's voice was very cold. "Narin tried to save Oin, as did I. But we had orcs on one side, and snake-creature on the other. The orcs are dead. But we could not kill the snake-creature."

"He is dead, then. Was it quick?"

Linsie said, "I wish it had been quicker. He was defiant to the end."

Moren bowed his head.

"We shall do the same, " said Narin. Moren looked at him, and at Linsie. He was surprised at how little they said.

Their brief respite ended, and the orcs attacked again.

[Imladris]

Ori and the remaining survivors dashed into the Chamber of Records. Maron and Alrik barred the doors while Ori leaned Flori against Balin's tomb. "We are wasting time," Flori shouted, struggling.

"And you are wasting blood, brother," said Ori with a smile, ripping some cloth from a nearby jacket. "I am going to bind the stump, cutting off the flow of blood so that you won'tl faint by the time the orcs finish breaking through. That way you won't die when we flee towards the West Gate."

Flori rolled his eyes, but ceased his struggling. Ori looked at Flori: his cheeks were pallid, and his eyes were glazed. Sweat streamed down his brow and he trembled a little. Ori smiled at him and said, "We'll get out of this one yet." Would they? He doubted it.

If the path to Hollin was clear, they might have a chance. Ori glanced around, seeing who had fallen. Loni, Nali, and Frar were gone. Dead, he presumed. There was small chance they had outrun the tide of orcs..

He shook his head, and concentrated on tying the strip of cloth tightly around Flori's stump. Blood streamed from the wound. His brother might not die at the hand of an orc's, Ori thought dully. He pushed the thought away.

He heard a rush of footsteps and he saw Narin and Linsie. They told him of Oin's death. He could feel the blood drain from his face. Oin...gone. He drew a shuddering breath as the orcs broke through again.

[Taralphiel]

Maron almost fell backwards as the door shook against the weight of the horde of Orcs. He could see Nali's face in his mind as he fell, and he could see the blood flowing over the floor of the chamber.

'I did not even thank him...'

His head snapped up as he heard wood shattering. His grip tightened by instinct. His mind began to race again, though his tired feet were firmly planted. He thought of his Uncle's kind smile and thoughtful words. He knew he would do this deed, and him proud to have raised him.

"For my Uncle..." he mumbled as his axe met crude steel. He threw his weight into his movements, and it seemed to do well against the hefty body of an orc. But his pride and honour fueled him less than what he could have hoped, and soon he felt a sickening blow to his middle. His knees gave way and he toppled to the ground.

He could hear all the shouting around him, and the maelstrom of arrows let fly and clanking of metal, but it grew distant. Maron gave a small smile as he thought of his Uncle's smithy and the dream of moulding truesilver on its anvil.

"Aye, 'twas a nice dream..." he said, closing his eyes.

[Saraphim]

The reaction of Ori and Flori to the news of Oin's demise and the lack of escape threatened to break what was left of Narin's courage.

He felt his strength go, sapped by Lin and his swift battle to the Chamber of Records. A fresh batch of orcs burst through the door, and Narin took his stand next to Lin and tried to quell his pounding heart.

As the orcs bubbled up from the opening, thoughts bubbled from his mind; memories of a life he was proud of, and they gave him strength

He thought of his brother, who had protected King Dain to the death.

He thought of Floi, who had fallen only after slaying a great troll of the mountains.

He thought of Balin, and how the love of Dwarrow-Delf had allowed him an honorable death.

These thoughts fueled his energy as he pushed his was through the fray.

Suddenly, a scream that he recognized tore into his mind. Looking around, he saw Lin fighting tooth and nail with a massive goblin near the wall.

He ran towards her and imbedded one of his axes into the foul creature's back.

In its last moments, the orc turned and stabbed Narin in the stomach.

The orc fell on its face. Narin took longer, dropping to his knees and pulling the blood-covered blade out of his body and letting it clatter to the ground. He kept his remaining axe in his hand and slumped against the wall.

"The pain is gone," he said slowly," I think I will be alright."

He could see Lin in front of him, but the room was growing dark. He smiled.

So my adventure will end as it began, he thought.

"Goodbye, Linsie," He said.

And thus Narin of Moria died.

[Pyroclastic]

Torch light danced across the walls as Uzgash led his troops to Nazklash’s armory. He was excited, at last here was the end. Nobody knew of his plan, that was how it would be successful. He rounded the cavern corner and spied Lugnush lurking in the shadows. “You ready?” Uzgash ask him.

“I’ve been ready for this for a long time.” Lugnush replied.

“Alright then.” Uzgash turned to his troops and held his torch aloft. “Listen up!” He shouted to the masses. “You all have served me with the devotion and treachery expected among the best of our race. You’re the toughest, strongest, best band of orcs in Moria! The battle you will fight next is not mine, it is Captain Lugnush’s. You will follow him as you followed me; he is worthy. To Captain Lugnush!” Uzgash thrust his sword in the air and shouted as only an orc could. His, or rather Lugnush’s troops shouted in answer.

“Hhragggghhhh!” The screams of the orcs echoed along the corridors. Uzgash turned to Lugnush and beat his axe against the ground in salute. “Do well, Captain Lugnush.” And he marched off into the shadows leaving Lugnush with his newfound power.

*****

At the Gates of Moria Uzgash surveyed for the last time the depth and gloom of Kahzad Dum. The bodies of several dwarves lay strewn about with the bodies of orcs. Orcs, Dwarves, Elves, Men, Uzgash had killed them all and they all died the same. They would all return to the Earth and be made new again. The mass that once was Dwarf would become soil, and then plant, and then animal, until the body had become a part of so many things that it had become the differences that it had once thought so important.

Uzgash stepped beyond the doors of Moria and a single word flashed through his head. He remembered the whisper of one of the dwarves he had killed. Freedom. Moonlight beamed down across the hillside giving a slight luminance to the air. He had missed this. No more caves for Uzgash, he was a free orc now and forever. He felt a slight shiver creep upon him from behind. The Nameless Fear, The Fiery One in the furthest depths beyond all reach remained restless. It sensed the distant approach of power. Not soon, but approaching none the less. Uzgash shuddered, the sooner he left the better. He wasn’t going to be caught in a mess like that. Leave that for Lugnush, Uzgash was free. As he walked off in the moonlight Uzgash at last was content.

[Melisil]

On the way to re-join the others, Loni stopped himself when passing a local inn. He entered to have a pint or two.. or three..

Loni entered, the loud pub noise sounded like strange pub music to his ears! "Ah, I could live with this!" said the Dwarf, taking a long gulp of the pint he had just ordered. Loni let out a contented sigh. He stayed at the inn for most of the night; He left drunk and very tired.

The next morning Loni awoke, earlier then he would have liked, but with time to spare before going. After dressing, Loni walked to the kitchen, making himself a filling breakfast.

The porch was very refreshing indeed- for this was where he went to after he ate. He breathed in the morning air. It cleared his rather sleepy and hung-over head.

After a while of standing on the porch Loni let out a sigh of a poem he had heard as a child:
Where base of Erebor meets land,
There shall be my hand.
No fear for death nor sorrow,
For my life, you may borrow.

His mother had told him it, before she died. Loni remembered the day for a minute, before turning around and walking back to his room.

His stuff was mostly ready from yesterday, so all he needed to do was to put on his armour. Loni finished this, and went looking for Balin.

[Imladris]

Ori

Slinging his pack over his shoulder, Ori lumbered down the stairs rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, fondly remembering the lazy mornings and the mug of ales that would normally have awaited him. Instead it was a hasty bite and then going off with Balin.

Dawn yet crept from the east and in the lingering twilight he could see Flori staring at the mountain. His blue eyes were soft, a smile played about his lips. Ori, with a murmured greeting went over and stood beside him and they both looked upon the mountain. In the distance Frar and another burst into drunken fragments of song.

“Do you remember when we first came here,” said Flori, “we were so excited…least I was. To us the piles of treasure were incomparable and it was hard to remember that there could be more added to the lot.”

Ori nodded. The mountain towered above them, a fortress curled in morning mist. “It is still grand,” he said. “But…some have outgrown it…long for better things. They long for Mithril.”

“Come, Ori,” Flori said, clapping him on the back, “it will be a glorious adventure. Look at the dwarves around you -- there’s even a poet, a dwarf after your own heart! There will be danger, but there was danger when you went after Smaug, too! And it was fine, was it not, as you cowered in the hidden tunnel with your friends about you? Moria is just the next step…whatever is there, it will be just another Smaug.”

Ramming his elbow playfully into his brother’s side, laughing at his cheerfulness, he said softly, “Just another Smaug.” He thought of the unknown shadow that rested in Moria, the doom that settled like a dark cloud -- he smiled at his own poetic description.

He suddenly realized that Balin was beside him: his brown eyes glimmered in the rising sun, a broad smile grew upon his face; his white beard hung in a billowing fall down his chest.

In Moria, in Khazad-dum.
But still the sunken stars appear
In dark and windless Mirrormere;
There lies his crown in waters deep.
Till Durin wakes again from sleep.


“Long have I wished to look in Mirrormere and see the stars and the crowns ripple within the deep waters,” Balin murmured.

Orli looked at him, at the eyes that did not see the Mountain bathed in the rising sun but the realm of Dwarrowdelf gilded in gold and Mithril it‘s broad halls ringing with the song of dwarves in time with the pounding hammers. “You will soon, Balin,” he said.

[Amanaduial the archer]

As Balin arrived beside them, Ori turned to converse with him and Flori yawned widely, then looked around guiltily. He probably shouldn't have been up so late last night. One of the older dwarves was looking at him with some disapproval, but Flori caught Floi's eye and grinned sheepishly at him.

Looking up, the dwarf saw a shadow move behind one of the windows of the courtroom and nodded, satisfied. Dain would not let them down then; despite his misgivings, the king would send them off with his blessing, of that Flori was sure. Not just as a king either; Flori would be sorry to say goodbye to his old friend.

Beside him, another dwarf stifled a yawn, and Flori grinned at him sidelong. "You bade a long farewell to the mountain last night as well, hmm?"

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:31 AM January 29, 2004: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]

[Will Witfoot]

Alrik sat at the 'Durin's Anvil', sharing a table with a few miners younger than himself. Having heard that he was part of the expedition the youngsters had flocked around him to listen to his banter, eager like dwarf lads that had just received their first battle-axes.

"Now you young 'uns know how to swing a pick, I hope, wether at a seam of gold or at a damned orcs head!" There was much chuckling at this one, all of them allready being several pints south of sober. Ofcourse, he could outdrink them any time of the day but the 'one or two pints' had mysteriously been transformed into eight, and the number had only increased.

"Well, I must be off. May your picks never grow dull." The youths cheered him loudly before one of their number dozed of, his head thumping against the hard surface of the table. Making good of the distraction, Alrik slipped out.
Aye, he would need some sleep before setting of.


Alrik awoke from his slumber, feeling very reluctant to get up. Getting angry with himself for slacking he tore of the sheets and got up.
Everything was packed and ready, he just needed to get dressed and he could set out.

He wandered to the back of his smithy where stood an old wooden cuboard. He fumbled for the silver chain aroung his neck and produced a key and pushed it into the lock. The doors swung open silently.

He took down the first part of his armour, the breastplate, and began to get dressed.

[Gird]

Frar looked around, suddenly realizing what time it was and how long he had been up. He hadn't planned on being at the pub till dawn, but he did, so he'll just have to play the cards he was dealt.

~*~*~

Last night, he had finished his packing, and decided to go see his family first, otherwise he would forget to later. He had gone to his sisters house and said his fairwells, and also to her husband and their kids. He then went over to his brother, Fror's house. Fror decided he'd treat Frar to a couple of ales, the night before his long journey.

A couple of ales turned into a couple more ales, and the couple of hours planned turned into a night of drinking and partying. The only sleep Frar got was when he passed out drunk, for about half an hour, when he was awoken by Fror. "Frar, he he, it's almost dawn, wake up!" said Fror with a drunken smile. A beer smelling reply came, "Oh really, dawn you say?... oh my! Dawn, I've been here the whole night!" Frar looked at his brother with a concerned look. It didn't last long, soon they were both laughing hard, at what seemed like a joke.

A little while after that, they had managed to get back to Frar's room, douse his head in water, get his stuff, and head back outside the mountain. Fror was drunk, but he still carried his brothers bag down for him to honour one of the silentshield family about to embark on an important journey.

When they got outside, they saw Flori another dwarf from the expedition party standing out there. Frar could hear him trying to remember the last line of the song that Nali had sung earlier. Frar, and Fror joined in to help the last line along(Frar had taught his brother the song last night at the pub). They had a good chuckle over this, and then Frar turned to say goodbye to his brother.

"Goodbye brother Fror, perhaps once we shall meet again, once we reclaim Moria for the Dwarfs. And then you can come, along with the wife you'll meet in my absence, and start a family in those great halls." said Frar, sad that he would be leaving his closest friend and brother. Fror put his hand on Frar's shoulder and said, "Fair thee well Frar Silentshield, may all who stand before you crumple in defeat, and may you be victorious in honour bringing to the Dwarf name. I shall see you then." Frar and Fror smacked their hands together, shook them once, and nodded. Fror turned, and left Frar.

Perhaps it was just the beer talking, but Frar stood there confident of his journey ahead of him.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:48 PM January 29, 2004: Message edited by: Gird ]

[Saraphim]

In the cold morning air, Narin carefully organized his important belongings into a worn leather pack. He strapped his green cloak on and fixed his axes firmly onto his belt, and paused in remembrance of his brother, who had used one of the axes to fend a goblin away from King Dain during the Battle of Five Armies, only to get a spear in his chest for his pains.

Narin sighed, and hoped that battle had been his last. Nevertheless, he wore his old armor under the cloak. He plaited his beard and noted with pleasure that it stuck a few inches below his belt.

His forge equipment was too heavy to take; he had packed only a small hammer and tongs. The rest of it would go to the keeping of his aunt, his only living relative in the Lonely Mountain. Narin never really saw eye to eye with her, so he had not had a long, tearful goodbye the previous night.
"Just sell it all, and make sure it's at a decent price too." He had said, then gave her the key to his forge and shook her hand.

Narin did not have many friends, so his farewells really consisted of no more than that: a handshake and occasionally a ‘good luck’.

In fact, Narin did not expect to get any closer to anyone at Moria, either. He was very opinionated and took a secret joy at proving people wrong. This did not make him very popular, and the friends he did have respected him more than liked him.

Narin looked around his room one last time, checking for any missing trinket he might need. There was none, he had everything important in his pack.

Then without another backward glance, he left.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:19 PM January 29, 2004: Message edited by: Saraphim ]

[Carlas]

Nazklash sat silently looking about the small passageway that Lugnush and he had been sent to guard. It was one of the deeper passageways, and Nazklash felt it was pointless to be guarding tunnels that no one would ever make it to with all the other guards, if anyone even came. They had lit a small fire, not because they really needed one, but because they could and he doubted anyone would catch them.

The two had been sitting in the tunnel watching the fire for some time now. They had talked for a bit, but both had gotten tired of the other fast. Nazklash looked up the tunnel searching the darkness behind their circle of light and to his surprise he saw a large figure walking towards them out of the darkness.

“And why would you be all the way down ‘ere Uzgash?” Nazklash asked suspiciously when he finally realized who it was. He knew he was a captain, but he doubted that he’d come all the way down into the deep passages just to yell at them about some stupid fire. Uzgash just looked at him slowly and sat down beside their small fire. Nazklash and Lugnush looked at each other quickly, both a little surprised at the captain’s strange behaviour.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the others talking of a revolt lately, am I right?” Uzgash finally said, as he watched Nazklash look back up the hall quickly before answering. “ I ‘ave, but I doubt they’d do much anyways, none of ‘em dare take charge.”

Uzgash nodded slowly looking down at the tiny fire and then back up to meet Nazklash’s eyes. “Would you be willing?” He asked the small orc in front of him. Nazklash was surprised by these words, and more than a little suspicious. Why would a captain like Uzgash be asking Nazklash if he would be willing to lead a revolt? It didn’t make any sense…

Seeing Nazklash pause, Uzgash added “Would you take charge of those miserable orcs? Kill the chief, and maybe even become a captain?” Nazklash smiled as he heard the last word. If he became a captain he wouldn’t have to sit in these halls all day, no, he may even be able to leave this cursed mountain for a time to kill any of the villages or cities around it. Could he really do that? But why not…it’s not like anyone was coming here.

Nazklash was still a little suspicious, but didn’t see the harm in answering. “I would, but it don’t matter anyways, no one's goin to follow me.” He finally said, still watching Uzgash intently. Now it was Uzgash’s turn to smile. “They’d follow you, they know how smart you are even if you aren’t very strong.” Nazklash frowned at this but even he knew he didn’t have much strength, and Uzgash had said everyone thought he was smart. Nazklash sat up a bit straighter, he was smart, everyone would be right to follow him.

“And what about me?” Asked Lugnush who had been watching the conversation silently. “I’m smart and strong!.” Uzgash looked over at the large form a bit annoyed, but trying to look normal, he’d have to let Lugnush take charge too or this could start a bit of trouble. “Well, that’s true.” Uzgash answered, trying to figure out how this could work. “Maybe you could take command with Nazklash, but only as second in command, one captain’s enough.” Both Nazklash and Lugnush looked at each other silently, both annoyed with the other.

Nazklash looked back at Uzgash suddenly. “So, then ‘ow do we get about commanding a revolt without the chief knowing?” He asked, wondering if it was even possible. Uzgash leaned forward and looked at the two orcs. “Like this.” He answered, and he sat with them the remainder of the night, planning the chief’s demise.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:54 AM February 07, 2004: Message edited by: Carlas ]

[Taralphiel]

Maron stood about the group of dwarves slowly collecting in the fresh morning. He watched the town slowly wake, and grinned despite himself. He could not tell if he felt foreboding, but all that seemed to matter was bringing back some true-silver, and watching his old Uncle's eyes brighten.It had been many years according to him since he had held some, but knowing the state of his mind, he doubted that story was even true. He could not help but chuckle out loud.

He slowly paced about on the spot, his axe beginning to idly slip from his grip. He had little patience, and kept his eyes sharp for any sign of Balin.

Maron felt the warmth of the sun tingle at his back, and saw the day begin to open up.

'It will be a while once I head into the Halls that I see dawn. I wonder if I should miss it?' he paused, and looked at all the other dwarves that were wrapped up in their own thoughts.

'Hm...seems there is more to worry about...'

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:11 AM February 02, 2004: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Orofaniel]

Lugnush

"You can be in second command...one captain is enough." Uzgash had said. Lugnush nodded even thought he didn't quite agree. Why should he always be the "second best?" Why? He though about this and felt anger inside of him. He knew he was both stronger and smarter than Nazklash. that wasn't hard to see, he thought while he looked at Nazklash; Bad legs, short and weak arms, shoulders which weren’t wide at all, bad back….. He then turned his eyes towards Uzgash. How could he decide who was to be the captain and the second command? This was highly unfair. Oh well, he was the Orc Captain.

But what was in it for him? Why would Uzgash, the Orc captain want them, or Nazklash, to lead the revolt? It didn't make sense at all. If he'd been smart he'd do it himself, and take the whole command. But no, he was asking Nazklash to do it. So, if Nazklah did as Uzgash suggested, would he really get to be a captain, or was this some sort of a trick? To coop the leading position after Nazklash had done his job, and then maybe kill him off? This thought brought Lugnush back to himself; Uzgash would then probably kill him too, so that neither him of Nazklash would "start any trouble".

"Uzgash...What's in 'er for yer'?" Lugnush asked him suspiciously. "What?" Uzgash said and turned.

"I said: What's in 'er for yer?" Lugnush repeated even more suspiciously. He walked towards him, as he saw that Nazklash walking to get between the two Orcs. "Now listen you stupid one eyed Orc!" Uzgash said quite angry.

Lugnash could feel his face burning of plain anger. "How dare you?" Lugnush cried. "No, Lugnush..." Uzgash laughed as he saw that Lugnush was getting angry. "How dare you?!?" Uzgash continued, not laughing anymore. Uzgash's face was strict and proud. "Here I come, and offer you two a place in the top...and you ask of my motives?" he said sounding disappointed in Lugnush, while still angry.

"If you don't want it; FINE! I don't care...I'll do it myself." he said again.

Lugnush now suddenly felt bad. If Uzgash withdrew his proposal he wouldn't even make it to the second command, maybe it wasn't that bad. "N-no..." Lugnush muttered.

"Of course we'll hear what you have in mind Uzgash!" Nazklash suddenly said. Uzgasuh turned towards him and smiled. “Alright 'ehn..." He said. But still he was a nit cranky.

"But I won't 'ave any more of those...those...accusations!" he growled and looked at Lugnush, while he pointed at him.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 5:06 AM February 08, 2004: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

Beside him, another dwarf stifled a yawn, and Flori grinned at him sidelong. "You bade a long farewell to the mountain last night as well, hmm?"

"Not really," Flói said, but mostly to himself. He had been busy in his house last night, making sure he would never leave behind something that he needed. Hence, his bag looked more like an oliphaunt - he also left four bags destroyed, casualties of his war against possible need.

He felt a yawn rising again, but did not indulge this time. He was now fully awake, and fully aware of the fact that he will be soon off for a journey, a journey full of danger, full of toil, and, if all is well, full of rewards. He smiled at that.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:27 AM February 04, 2004: Message edited by: Nilpaurion Felagund ]

[Orual]

Óin squinted up as the clouds parted to allow some sunlight to filter onto the beginnings of the company. Not all of them were present, but the group was getting steadily larger. He shifted his cloak irritably on his shoulders and folded his arms over his chest.

The day was quite nice, actually, dry and getting pleasantly warm as it progressed away from the chill morning. There was not enough air movement to be called precisely a breeze, not now, anyway, but it was certainly enough to keep it from getting too hot. The rose fingers of sunrise still clung to the horizon, and it was shaping up to be a good day on which to start a journey.

Óin looked over at one of the other dwarves, a younger fellow named Maron, if he was not mistaken. He walked over to him, looking up at the sky appraisingly. "Not a bad day," he said grudgingly. Maron looked at him--it was an odd comment coming from Óin, who was known to be not entirely thrilled about the expedition--and Óin shrugged. "Well, it isn't. Even a mistake of an adventure needs a good start. Don't you suppose?"

[Taralphiel]

Maron had thought himself alone in his ponderings until he heard an older and gruffer voice.

"Not a bad day,"

Maron turned and saw that it was Oin, one of his company. He was a very respected dwarf, and he could not help but feel a slight on edge. He alse remembered that it was he that had had misgivings about going on this quest.

"Well, it isn't. Even a mistake of an adventure needs a good start. Don't you suppose?"

Maron paused for a moment before saying "Aye, that is true. It would make it harder to leave if the clouds were about our ankles..." he tried to be a little jovial, but feared it was all wasted. He kept his eyes on the clouds before saying as meek as any dwarf can sound:

"I can only suppose why Balin chose me to be here and head back to the Great Halls. But I still wonder if there will be true silver, and all the old glory waiting there for us..."

[Will Witfoot]

Alrik sat on a boulder, puffing delicate rings of smoke and at times inhaling deeply from the long pipe held in his left hand. In the almost breathless sunrise they floated quite a disstance before dissipating into the tiniest whisps of grey. A fine day indeed to start the adventure.

The polished metal of his armour caught the red light of the newborn sun and reflected it in a dozzen prisms of fiery shine. It felt good to be garbed in his battle gear once more, instead of the leather appron he wore around his forge. Offcourse, smithing was a work which he loved, but he needed the babtism of blood and sweat to remind himself of his roots. And those younglins could do with a reminder, too.
He ran his fingers along the smooth metal of the breastplate, remembering the hours of work he had spent on it, spent on every single link and plate all those long years ago when he was still a beardling in his fifties.

He lifted his axe, studying the weapon that had been forged before he had been born. The smith had captured the moment of a huge eagle of the mountains taking flight: the blades were its wings, spread to take the avian to the skies and beyond, ready to call the wind that made the orcs cower in fear.

He remembered how he had gotten the weapon, how his father had fallen that fatefull day when dwarfes, men and elves fought to contain the plaque of orcs spawned in the belly of the misty mountains. He remembered taking the axe from his fathers corpse when his own pick broke in the press of bodies around him. Never had he been able to forge anything like it, allthough his smithing skills were held in great respect by his patrons and the rulers of Erebor.

Perhpas in Khâzad-Dum he would find the craft needed to forge such weapons, but his hand would allways be on the haft of his fathers axe. It was one with him.

[The Perky Ent]

When Nali awoke from his slumber, he realized he was late. He was always late. He realized if he wanted to get at his treasure, he'd have to be first in line. Because of his short slumber, he had already packed his things and was ready for the journey.

Nali's residence was secluded and didn't need someone to tend it. It was hidden behind a large cluster of rocks behind Erebor. Although irresponcible, Nali enjoyed his normal walks to and from his house.

Climbing over the rocks like he always did, Nali surveyed he horizon. The conditions were perfect for a journey. Nali knew many shortcuts through the mountain and could arrive with Balin in a small cluster of minutes.

After a while of journey, Nali could see the dwarfs smoking their pipes and set for their journey.

Nali exhaled and said, "they haven't left yet!" under his breath. Quickly roaring, the other dwarves recognised him. They didn't seam to mind that he was late.

Nali was suprised to see that all the dwarves weren't there. "Nali!" Balin said, "Nali...i'm sorry to say that we already got to Moria and back and didn't need your help after all! HA HA HA! Just making a joke there lad! Now, let's see..." Balin scanned Erebor for other dwarves. Smiling, Nali pulled a pipe out and started to smoke.

The sun is high the moon is gone
The dwarves are off, the chase is on
Through travels far and wide we go
to reclaim a land captured not by friend but foe.
When sun is gone and fire is out
will the world be filled with doubt?
To Moria, we travel afar
and will sing great songs, as if at a bar!

[Imladris]

Ori

Ori looked at the gathering dwarves with satisfaction. He did not see the female dwarf, Mali, but Lin was there as were the others. They would start as soon as the sun finished peeping above the mountains.

Balin, he noted, was in a jovial mood as he told a latecomer that they had left and returned loaded with riches. As he waited, the thrill of adventure slowly came over him and he thought of the music that would ring once again in the halls of Moria. He wondered if he would be able to make a flute out of mithril and his hands trembled at the thought.

A song rang out, interrupting his musings, and he looked eagerly for the singer of it. It was the dwarf who had come late, and Ori slowly made his way towards him. Green eyes glittered from under the helm of his bronze helmet and a scar arched jaggedly across his brow.

“So, what is your name, Dwarf?” he asked kindly. “My name is Ori,” he added, bowing.

“And Nali to you, sir,” the dwarf replied with a grin and a bow.

“I am impressed with your poetry and your singing voice,” said Ori, shifting uncomfortably on his feet…it sounded so awkward saying it for some reason.

Nali beamed, however, and said, “Thank you.”

“Can you play an instrument as well as sing?” Ori asked curiously. It would be quite merry to sit around a camp fire singing and playing songs…

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 8:59 PM February 04, 2004: Message edited by: Imladris ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Malí scrambled, shoving papers and writing utencils into her pack. She'd planned on packing the night before, but instead Malí had been content with finishing other papers that were due. Malí was always distracted like that, always forgetting about one task and leaving to finish another. Now Malí regretted it, because she knew she would be late and it would not look very responsible showing up when everyone else would be ready. Malí was not good with first impressions, or any impressions for that matter, and being late for a invite-only mission did not help.

Shoving the last reference parchments and other necessities into her pack, Malí took one last sweeping glance over her work room and sighed. Leaving it for the first time in years would be hard, but Malí was ready for the new opportunity that would be waiting in Moria. So, Malí turned away and left the work room, not looking back as she walked away.

Malí started to jog as she hurried to reach the group, however late she would be. However, she grew quite tired quite quickly, and grumpily heaved as she found and joined the group. Malí smiled weakly, embarrassed as some of the others noticed her and stared as she joined them. She was about to make a greeting, but Malí quieted when she noticed that most of them were listening to one of their companions singing a song.

...Through travels far and wide we go
to reclaim a land captured not by friend but foe...

Then Ori began speaking with the singing one, and Malí stepped fully into the group, feeling more embarrassed and disappointed in herself with every passing second. She was typically very practical and precise with everything. Hopefully the group would realize this soon, and not let her random tardiness mar their opinion of her. Looking around, Malí found that everyone from the day before was present. They were ready to travel. Ready to take back their home.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 10:30 PM February 04, 2004: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Saraphim]

Narin shifted from one foot to the other, waiting impatiently for the entire company to arrive.

The sun had risen fully now, spreading light over those who had already gathered. Narin thought they looked rather scruffy and nervous, compared with the fearlessness of the previous night.

One thing remained the same, however. All were nearly spilling over with the excitement of being included in such an important adventure.

Looking around, Narin recognized one of the dwarves from the meeting. He had asked around and learned his name: Lin. Something about him made Narin especially irritated, and he still could not figure out why. His mind told him it was simply annoyance at having competition, but he knew it was something more than that.

Narin eyed him suspiciously as Lin conversed in whispers with Balin. He tried to keep his temper from flaring, and remembered that the company was so large they might not come across each other at all.

Narin looked away and tried to study the others again. Mostly they were milling about aimlessly, occasionally talking to each other in hushed voices. The young minstrel who had so entertained them last night was singing once more, and again Narin wondered at his skill.

The sun is high, the moon is gone,
The dwarves are off, the chase is on…

[Melisil]

Loni walked around the company of Dwarfs somewhat aimlessy. As it was still so early, not many others were out. There was a small table set up(Loni couldn't even guess who had thought of it) filled with all types of breakfast goodies. He smiled, and half walked, half ran over to it.

'Mm.. delicious.' he thought to himself, taking a bite out of a sausage. Loni looked around. Unfortunatly there would not be very much food for everyone. He grabbed a handful of other sausages and walked over to another Dwarf so as not to seem he was 'hogging' them.

"Uh.. sausage?" Loni inquired when the other Dwarf noticed the small pile he was hiding.

"No thanks," he replied.

Loni started "The names Loni Stormlegs. And you are?" he asked, outstreching his arm(the one not full of sausages) to the other Dwarf.

The Dwarf grabbed his hand saying, "I'm Narin."

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 8:07 PM February 05, 2004: Message edited by: Melisil ]

[Orual]

"I can only suppose why Balin chose me to be here and head back to the Great Halls. But I still wonder if there will be true silver, and all the old glory waiting there for us..."

Óin grunted, looking back at the sky. "Balin has his reasons. He wouldn't have chosen you if he didn't think you ready." He turned to the younger dwarf. Maron seemed edgy, uneasy. Óin, for a moment, let his roughness slip, and clapped Maron on the shoulder. "Balin knows what he's talking about, lad. And he knows how to choose a company." He looked around. "This may seem an odd group, but sometimes it's the odd groups that make the best companies. And sometimes it's the oddest members who turn out to be the most valuable assets."

Maron looked pleased, and Óin coughed and turned away again. He looked towards the table laden with breakfast foods, and realized that his stomach was telling him that he had forgotten to eat before he left. The scent of sausages and biscuits and other foods were carried over to him by a breeze, and he watched as Loni helped himself generously. If he was to get something to eat, it would have to be fast. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to have at least one good meal before we start having to ration," Óin said to Maron as he went over to the table. "You can join me, if you'd like," he added.

[Saraphim]

Narin started at the dwarf who offered him sausage. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond, and stuttered:

“Erm, no thanks.”

The other dwarf took this as an opportunity to introduce himself.

"The names Loni Stormlegs. And you are?” he asked in a friendly voice, extending his arm (the one not full of sausages) to Narin.

Narin looked at the outstretched hand carefully, then at the dwarf it belonged to. He reached out and shook it.

“I’m Narin.”

A short silence descended. Narin noticed for the first time that he actually was hungry.

“Well, perhaps I could have a sausage or two, er, Loni, was it?”

Loni smiled and obligingly handed him half of his sausage pile. They munched awkwardly for a moment before Narin found a topic to break the silence.

“So, what is it that you, er, do, Loni? I mean, I’m a smith, myself, and I’d like to kind of get a feel about where everyone is, well, occupation-wise, if you er, get my meaning.” Said Narin lamely.

He waited for Loni to respond and hoped he didn’t seem too socially inept.

[Imladris]

Balin

Balin frowned as he wrapped a piece of bread around a roasted sausage. It was not like Mali to be late. He flicked his eyes over each dwarf’s face and finally came to the conclusion that the female dwarf was indeed not present. Something must have delayed her presence…but what? A death in the family, maybe?

But she soon arrived, panting heavily and hair awry, relieving Balin’s fears. He flashed a smile at her and, addressing the entire group of dwarves, cried, “Up and at it, lads! Pack the dishes and the left over breakfast!”

As the other’s worked, he rummaged in his own pack and brought out a map. The parchment was ragged about the edges and yellow with age, but it was the most detailed map of the area. They would travel Northwest to the pass between Mirkwood and the Grey Mountains… Mirkwood…. the kingdom of the elven King could pose a problem, Balin thought with a dark frown and sullen grimace. He had not forgotten the humiliation of their imprisonment so long ago, but then Bilbo, good old Bilbo, had rescued them and sent them all floating down the river like apples in a barrel. Balin looked at the map again and wondered if they could detour the forest, but why should dwarves make way for a pack of elves, he thought with a thin smile. What could they do to them? The only reason they had been so shamefully captured before was because of those venomous corpulent spiders. Well, they wouldn’t be going near that scum so why should they fear the elves? It would be absolute cowardice to find another way.

His sense of honour having been appeased, Balin glanced around and saw that the dwarves were ready and waiting, their eyes bright and a smile upon their faces. Taking his place at the head of the column, Balin began to sing,

Farewell we call to hearth and hall!
Though wind may blow and rain may fall,
We must away ere break of day
Far over wood and mountain tall.

To Rivendell, where Elves yet dwell
In glades beneath the misty fell,
Through moor and waste we ride in haste,
And whither then we cannot tell.

With foes ahead, behind us dread,
Beneath the sky shall be our bed,
Until at last our toil be passed,
Our journey done, our errand sped.

We must away! We must away!
We ride before the break of day!


They marched quickly over grassy plains, their arms glittering in the sun, every once in a while a dwarvish song upon their lips. They stopped briefly under a copse of trees and enjoyed the rest of the sausage and a bit of cram.

As he traveled, Balin thought of Moria, of the great doors of Hollin, of the mighty halls of Dwarrowdelf. Once his group had become settled and the last remnant of orcs driven away, he would call for more dwarves from Erebor and soon the Khazad-dum would be the great and mighty of the dwarves. And maybe the last dwarven ring of power would be found and give life to their dying race.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Pulling one of the side straps on his pack as a last minute adjustment, Flori then started off, moving with the others in a herd. Behind them, the mountain was golden, lit with the sun almost behind it, and the dwarf took a last look at the mountain before firmly setting his eyes forward. His home it had been, and would always be for the good years he had spent there, but he would not let himself be distracted by frivolous pining.

A song began to rise from the other dwarves and Flori joined in, humming under his breath, the words unfamiliar to him as yet, and his voice not quite recovered from his merriment last night.

Another fell into step beside him, apparently by mistake, as the other looked completely 'away with the elves' as the saying went. Flori recognised him as the dwarf who had arrived late, and indeed he was breathing quite heavily and a look of worry was settled on his face - worry and disappointment. With whom? Flori wondered.

"Good morrow, friend. Why look so glum? Surely my company is not that unbearable, is it?" he joked, grinning, in an attempt to raise some sort of smile from underneath the gloomy expression currently in residence on the other's face. He shifted the weight of his pack slightly and held out a gloved hand. "Flori Bronzeshield, at yer service. What name do you go by?"

[Taralphiel]

Maron nodded and sat next to Oin, enjoying a good meal in silence. He was about to mutter something, when he heard Balin call out:

“Up and at it, lads! Pack the dishes and the left over breakfast!”

He jerked from the table, and almost tripping over his things as he tried to pack them, made his way out the door.


'Blast, a fine exit that was Maron Sandbrace' he grumbled 'But still, I suppose I do have a purpose here, despice my fumbling'

Oin's words had filled him with a measure of confidence in his place on this quest, and he moved forward with greater vigour knowing it. He could now clearly set out to find True Silver, and make his Uncle smile at its sight.

He did not take long to find Oin in the group, and with a half grin said 'Thankye for your words. It gives someone as clumsy as I a great deal of courage!' he chuckled.

[Melisil]

“Well, perhaps I could have a sausage or two, er, Loni, was it?” Narin said as an afterthought once they had shaken hands.

"Of course!" Loni beamed, dumping a large portion of his pile into Narins hands. He felt glad doing this as it made him seem just a slight bit less, 'greedy', as they say.

The two chewed in silence for a while. Loni only half thought of anything to say, untill Narin asked: “So, what is it that you, er, do, Loni? I mean, I’m a smith, myself, and I’d like to kind of get a feel about where everyone is, well, occupation-wise, if you er, get my meaning.”

"Oh yes, of course!" Loni replied. He had to stop and think for a second though, "Well, I don't think I really have a name for the many things I do. I do a bit of smithing, ok too if I say so myself. I don't know though. See I live in my home, I go hunting usually once a week or so.

"Really I just try to keep myself busy. I work with metal, well, I suppose alot, but, not much for selling purposes, if you know. I've tried my hand at carving before, and I quite enjoy it. So yes, I just kind of do this and that if you see?"

Just as he finished this, and before there was time for Narin to make any comment on what Loni had just said, Balin called out, “Up and at it, lads! Pack the dishes and the left over breakfast!”

Loni quickly grabbed his pack and stood up 'proper-like' ready to start. "Ah, here we go Narin. Finally! I'm more then a bit excited about this, if you see. You too?" Loni asked, seeing Narin grab a bag.

[The Perky Ent]

Nali gave Ori's question a great deal of thought. "An Instrument? Not that i know of. Well, I can sing, if that counts? No, of my crafts, i'm not know for my singing." Nali said to Ori as they started walking off on their quest. Nali was suprised to realize that there were so many dwarves walking off twords Moria. They were all talking peacefully between each other, sharing stories and thoughts. Trying to fit in with the crowd, Nali asked, "Ori, do possess any special trait?" Giving it some thought, Ori looked up at the blue sky. Nali, in turn looked up at the sky to see a cloud shaped like a mountain. "Do you see the mountain in the clouds?" Nali asked inquiringly. "A mountain? No, but i do see something. Something more like...a...a snake." said Ori as he smiled at the question. Gazing again, Nali said, "Balin! Look up! Dwarves! Study the clouds! What do you see?" Everyone stopped. There was silence for a long time. Nali thought he would be blammed for Ori's question. After a time, it was none other than Flori who said: "It's a elf!" The statment caused comotion. Narin stated that it clearly was a River. Lîn said it looked like a hearth. This debate became the talk for quite a time.

After a while, the dwarves lost interest. Trying to pass the time, Nali started singing:

A group of dwarves set out at last
but a conflict has arisen all too fast
there is a demon in the sky
that plagues the minds of the dwarves as they walk by
a mass of fluff changing in shape
from trees, hills, rivers and capes
it puzzles the dwarves with great pain
as it is a question that would even puzzle king Dain
but it passed into blue
as it changes its many hues
and appears no more today
but it will come back anyway!

"You never answered my question," Nali said to Ori "Do you have some special talent?"

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

A full breakfast table. Flói was looking on as the other Dwarves scarfed down platters of sausages and eggs on the table. Despite the appealing aroma tickling his nose - and the fact that he hasn't eaten since last night - he wasn't hungry. It's as if cram has been stuffed down his stomach - Which of course is only an illusion that will disappear as soon as the feeling of excitement passes, he thought.

"I'll have to eat." Once his decision was made, he walked toward the table to claim a spot, when -

"Up and at it, lads! Pack the dishes and the left over breakfast!"

"Great." Flói glumly grabbed a sausage and headed for his oliphauntine bag. "I'll probably be dead of hunger before we reach Moria."

[Gird]

Frar noticed that there was a table full of food and breakfast goodies laid out for the Dwarfs' departure. He didn't eat any of it, as he was feeling a bit of a hangover, but he did take the time to look it over and compare the cooking to his own. Whoever made the sausages cooked them too long on one side, and you don't use that kind of salt on eggs! He would've gone on, but he heard Balin giving the command to pack it up and get going. Frar's train of thought completely changed course. He now thought about the journey and the adventure that awaited them, and also things like, did I pack enough pairs of socks?

They marched for some time at an easy pace, for they had no reason to go fast, the weather was great and they were in friendly lands still. Frar stayed to himself for most of the morning march as his stomach was feeling queasy. Normally he would have gone and talked to someone. When the sun was high in the sky, they stopped for not only a rest, but also for some lunch. Frar didn't feel up to cooking at the time, so he let the others make something. Leftover sausage and cram? Next time, I am definitely making the meal. After he force-fed himself the meal, he went over to Balin. "Say Balin, what do you say to next time we're stopping, I cook the meal," he started, "for I've got pots and pans with me, and some seasonings too.

"That sounds good right?"

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

"Good morrow, friend. Why look so glum? Surely my company is not that unbearable, is it?" Malí looked over at the fellow traveler, pointing at herself to make certain that he'd been addressing her. Do I know him? she asked herself, shaking her head for her forgetfulness. With no trouble at all Malí could recite every base equation, every great trade made by the dwarves of Erebor in recent memory, but for her own life she could never remember names or faces. "Flori Bronzeshield, at yer service. What name do you go by?"

Malí hesitated, looking at Flori. Would he recognize the name she gave, if she gave one at all? Probably not. Hopefully not, Malí corrected her own thoughts. It didn't matter anyway. If they were going to be the dwarves to reclaim Moria, Malí figured they all better get used to each other's company. They'd get used to her. They'd eventually learn to live with her stubborness and her constant need to be ahead of schedule and always be correct with calculations of every kind. In turn, Malí would force herself to get used to the others.

"I am called Malí," she informed Flori, taking his hand in a firm handshake. "I am here as the mathematician. I'm here to be a perfectionist. It is what I do as a living, and hopefully it will help in this mission of ours. But what brings you here, on this quest of Balin's? Why have you come along, Flori Bronzeshield?"

"Warriors need no other reason than the promise of another chance to do what they love, for the things they love," Flori explained. "It is something few understand, I suppose. Colors are more distinct, scents are sharper, oxygen is more refreshing, and it is how I know life is meant to be. It makes one crazy and yet strangely sane all in the same moment. That is why I am here."

"I see," Malí mused, smiling softly as she mulled over the words of Flori. The way he felt about his duty, his passion, was how Malí felt about her equations and calculations. Everything made perfect sense even in its abstract essence. If done correctly, everything worked out like a puzzle. Like a game. Malí loved playing the game of wits and intelligence with something that could always be beaten if carried out the right way. Malí looked back at Flori. "I see, and I understand."

[Orual]

Although they had not gone far at all yet, Óin could feel muscles in his legs--some that he had not used in years, it seems--aching and protesting. He was glumly aware that they were threatening to form a full-on rebellion and refuse to go another step, but it wasn't there yet. Any road, the day was still pleasant and Maron's bracing attitude lifted his spirits somewhat.

"Thank ye for your words. It gives someone as clumsy as I a great deal of courage!" Maron said, laughing. There was a spring to his step that reminded Óin of Fili or Kili, and every time he took a breath it seemed like he filled his lungs to bursting.

"That little slip?" Óin scoffed. "That doesn't make you clumsy. All it proves is that you're carrying gear." He slapped Maron's pack. "You might not believe it now, but on the journey we're on, we'll all prove that we're not clumsy. Running for your life tends to make you find your balance quickly."

That comment shot down the optimistic mood with the accuracy of an elf's arrow. Maron's step lost its bouyancy, and suddenly Óin's pack seemed heavier. He sighed deeply. "Bother," he muttered, and reluctantly slung an arm over Maron's shoulders. "It'll be fine," he said, hoping that he sounded confident. "Balin knows what he's doing..."

[Saraphim]

Narin heaved his pack and one of the group food packs onto his shoulders. He heard Loni say something behind him:

"Ah, here we go Narin. Finally! I'm more then a bit excited about this, if you see. You too?"

Narin turned around and smiled at Loni.

"Oh, yes, I don't think I've been more excited about anything since I left the Iron Hills. I only wish we didn't have to take such a long way around Mirkwood."

As they chatted and began walking, one of the others pointed out some clouds in the sky. The entire company stopped and looked at the stange formation. Narin heard someone say that it resembled a snake.

"What an ill omen." He snorted, "It looks like a river to me." Loni smiled and ate another sausage.