Falin and the few who remained stood alone in the great chamber. He was stunned. He had been a coward, not fighting back against the one who had slain Buldro. Standing over the body of his dead friend, he remembered how they had met long ago, in the halls of Dain, King under the Mountain. He wept for a moment, but his tears were driven away by determination. Determination to lead this little band of survivors to the treasure, to victory.
He would avenge Buldro, for even wights were not immune to weapons. And even if he failed, he would go to the halls of Aule, while the wights would rot and fester forever, fading away to the fate of their master Melkor. Falin smiled at his thought.
"Onward!" he said, and the remains of the party shuffled forward. At that moment, a man leapt from the peak of a high rock. Looking back, Falin saw that he had black hair, and a deep cut across the side of his face. He carried a long sword. Falin raised his mace in challenge.
[ May 23, 2003: Message edited by: Meoshi ]
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