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Legate of Amon Lanc · 03-30-2008, 02:00 PM

They ran on in the dark, but soon they started to see better. They could now see their way: in front the road sloped down swiftly, and some way ahead there stood a low archway; through it glowing light came. It was red and flickering. The air became very hot.

They rushed out. Before them was another cavernous hall. They were near its eastern end; westward it ran away into darkness. Right across the floor, close to the feet of two huge pillars a great fissure
had opened. Out of it a fierce red light came, and now and again flames licked at the brink and curled about the bases of the columns. Wisps of dark smoke wavered in the hot air.

"There is some new devilry here," said Elrohir. "Devised for our welcome no doubt."
"But I know now where we are," said Dáin. "We have reached the First Deep, the level just below the Gates. This is the Second Hall of Old Moria; and the Gates are near: away beyond the eastern end, on the left, not more than a quarter of a mile. Across the Bridge, up a broad stair, along a wide road through the First Hall, and out!"
"If we had come by the main road down from the upper halls, we should have been trapped here," said Gildor.
"Then we are lucky once again," said Théodred. "Let's head out! There is no time to lose."

They turned left and sped across the hall. The distance was greater than it had looked. As they ran they heard the beat and echo of many hurrying feet behind. A shrill yell went up: they had been seen. There was a ring and clash of steel. An arrow whistled over Tom's head.
Uglúk laughed. "They did not expect this," he said. "The fire has cut their ambush off. They are on the wrong side!"

But then, glancing back over his shoulder, he spotted something else coming up behind them from the darkness beyond the archway. What it was could not be seen: it was like a great shadow, in the middle of which was a dark form, of man-shape maybe, yet greater; and a power and terror seemed to be in it and to go before it.
It came to the edge of the fire and the light faded as if a cloud had bent over it. The flames roared up to greet it, and wreathed about it; and a black smoke swirled in the air. Its streaming mane kindled, and blazed behind it. In its right hand was a blade like a stabbing tongue of fire; in its left it held a whip of many thongs.

"Elbereth save us!" wailed Gildor. "A Balrog! A Balrog is come!"
Dáin's face turned grey. "It is here," he muttered to himself. "Beyond the shadow it was waiting still: Durin's Bane."
"A Balrog," said Galadriel with a sigh. "Now I understand. What an ill fate."

The dark figure streaming with fire raced towards them. Suddenly, Gildor turned towards Galadriel. "You must lead the Company to Lórien, my Lady," he said. "I will hold the narrow way."
"You are brave," said Théodred, turning at him in amazement. "But you cannot face this creature alone!"
"Neither of us can," said Dáin. "Some other power than ours would be needed to defeat the Durin's Bane."
"Aye," said Uglúk. "But we are not going to run squealing like rats! If we must stand up to this thing, we will! Running is no good now: even if we ran, there are more than enough of these filthy mountain-maggots to mop up our lot on the flat."
"No," said Tom. "If the sun is shining outside we may still escape. But dear Gildor is right: the Men and Dwarves and Elves and Orcs cannot fight the evil Shadow and Flame."
"This is true," said Galadriel. "This is a foe beyond any of us. But if it is your wish, Gildor, there may be our only hope of escaping now."
Gildor slowly nodded. "I see it all clearly now, Lady," he said. "I will stand here for the entire House of Finarfin." Then with a sudden move, he clutched Tom's arm and pushed the Ring to his hand. Bombadil's eyes opened wide.
"Keep it safe at least for now," the Elf said. But then he turned his head and saw the dark figure getting closer to them.
"Then over the bridge!" cried Galadriel. But Théodred, Uglúk and Elrohir did not heed the command and still held their ground, side by side, with their swords drawn.
"Fly!" Gildor shouted at them. "It is no good if more of us die here. I will hold it back. But you – go!"
Reluctantly, the three warriors turned and passed over the bridge. Just in time.

The Balrog reached the bridge. Gildor stood in the middle of the span, unarmed, but with his left hand raised. His enemy halted again, facing him, and the shadow about it reached out like two vast wings. It raised the whip, and the thongs whined and cracked. Fire came from its nostrils. But Gildor stood firm.

"A Elbereth Gilthoniel," the Noldo cried, and the words echoed through the wide hall, diminishing and disappearing in the dark abyss below.
"A Elbereth Gilthoniel," Gildor repeated, and then he began to sing in the ancient Elvish tongue, and his clear voice filled the shadowy cavern, and to everyone who heard, even if he did not understand the words, it seemed as if images of far distant places started to appear before his eyes: green forests and far seas under starry skies; swift rivers running through plains around hidden gates and a mighty bridge; a beautiful city lost amidst high mountain peaks and a narrow high pass, above which eagles circled. And yellow flowers blossoming upon a barren stone, and last of all, a glimpse of mountain, rising beyond one's mind's reach into a shining cloud. And Gildor sang, and even the Orcs stood silently and listened.

The Balrog also stood still. The fire in it seemed to die, but the darkness grew. But when Gildor's song ended, it stepped forward slowly on to the bridge. Suddenly, it drew itself up to a great height, and its wings were spread from wall to wall; but still Gildor could be seen, glimmering in the gloom; he seemed small, but shining with sharp light, like an evening star in the coming darkness.

And now at once Gildor drew his sword, and crying aloud he sprang forward towards the enemy. There was a ringing clash and a stab of white fire. The sword flew up in molten fragments. But then, Gildor leaped forth and enclasped the dark figure with his bare hands. Flame bursted out of the Balrog's mane, but Gildor was still clutching it. They both staggered on the brink, and then, with a terrible cry the Balrog fell back, and its shadow plunged down and vanished, taking the noble Elf with him. Like a dim star, Gildor's light glittered in the depths for a short time, and then the abyss darkened and there was no light anymore.

-----------------------------------------------
The rest of the Fellowship has just left Moria and enters Lórien. Today, you shall travel in peace.
-----------------------------------------------

The Fellowship:

Groin Redbeard - Dáin II. Ironfoot
McCaber - Elrohir
Meneltarmacil - Uglúk
Nogrod - Tom Bombadil
Rune son of Bjarne - Galadriel
Sally - Théodred

Gone:

Gil-Galad - Gandalf (left the Fellowship in Eregion) - innocent
Nerwen - Elladan (lost in the Pass of Caradhras) - innocent
Aganzir - Lobelia Sackville-Baggins (departed the Company by the dry streambed of Sirannon) - First Ringbearer & Protector
A Little Green – Éomer (dragged into the pool by the Watcher in the Water) - Avenger
THE Ka – Radagast (killed by Éomer's sword Gúthwinë by the Gates of Moria) - traitor
Gwathagor - Halbarad (killed by the Companions in self-defense in Moria) – traitor
Thinlómien - Gildor Inglorion (fell into the abyss with the Balrog of Moria) – innocent

-----------------------------------------------

The fourth part of the journey is starting. You may begin to post now.

03-30-2008, 02:00 PM	#232
Legate of Amon Lanc A Voice That Gainsayeth Join Date: Nov 2006 Location: In that far land beyond the Sea Posts: 7,431	They ran on in the dark, but soon they started to see better. They could now see their way: in front the road sloped down swiftly, and some way ahead there stood a low archway; through it glowing light came. It was red and flickering. The air became very hot. They rushed out. Before them was another cavernous hall. They were near its eastern end; westward it ran away into darkness. Right across the floor, close to the feet of two huge pillars a great fissure had opened. Out of it a fierce red light came, and now and again flames licked at the brink and curled about the bases of the columns. Wisps of dark smoke wavered in the hot air. "There is some new devilry here," said Elrohir. "Devised for our welcome no doubt." "But I know now where we are," said Dáin. "We have reached the First Deep, the level just below the Gates. This is the Second Hall of Old Moria; and the Gates are near: away beyond the eastern end, on the left, not more than a quarter of a mile. Across the Bridge, up a broad stair, along a wide road through the First Hall, and out!" "If we had come by the main road down from the upper halls, we should have been trapped here," said Gildor. "Then we are lucky once again," said Théodred. "Let's head out! There is no time to lose." They turned left and sped across the hall. The distance was greater than it had looked. As they ran they heard the beat and echo of many hurrying feet behind. A shrill yell went up: they had been seen. There was a ring and clash of steel. An arrow whistled over Tom's head. Uglúk laughed. "They did not expect this," he said. "The fire has cut their ambush off. They are on the wrong side!" But then, glancing back over his shoulder, he spotted something else coming up behind them from the darkness beyond the archway. What it was could not be seen: it was like a great shadow, in the middle of which was a dark form, of man-shape maybe, yet greater; and a power and terror seemed to be in it and to go before it. It came to the edge of the fire and the light faded as if a cloud had bent over it. The flames roared up to greet it, and wreathed about it; and a black smoke swirled in the air. Its streaming mane kindled, and blazed behind it. In its right hand was a blade like a stabbing tongue of fire; in its left it held a whip of many thongs. "Elbereth save us!" wailed Gildor. "A Balrog! A Balrog is come!" Dáin's face turned grey. "It is here," he muttered to himself. "Beyond the shadow it was waiting still: Durin's Bane." "A Balrog," said Galadriel with a sigh. "Now I understand. What an ill fate." The dark figure streaming with fire raced towards them. Suddenly, Gildor turned towards Galadriel. "You must lead the Company to Lórien, my Lady," he said. "I will hold the narrow way." "You are brave," said Théodred, turning at him in amazement. "But you cannot face this creature alone!" "Neither of us can," said Dáin. "Some other power than ours would be needed to defeat the Durin's Bane." "Aye," said Uglúk. "But we are not going to run squealing like rats! If we must stand up to this thing, we will! Running is no good now: even if we ran, there are more than enough of these filthy mountain-maggots to mop up our lot on the flat." "No," said Tom. "If the sun is shining outside we may still escape. But dear Gildor is right: the Men and Dwarves and Elves and Orcs cannot fight the evil Shadow and Flame." "This is true," said Galadriel. "This is a foe beyond any of us. But if it is your wish, Gildor, there may be our only hope of escaping now." Gildor slowly nodded. "I see it all clearly now, Lady," he said. "I will stand here for the entire House of Finarfin." Then with a sudden move, he clutched Tom's arm and pushed the Ring to his hand. Bombadil's eyes opened wide. "Keep it safe at least for now," the Elf said. But then he turned his head and saw the dark figure getting closer to them. "Then over the bridge!" cried Galadriel. But Théodred, Uglúk and Elrohir did not heed the command and still held their ground, side by side, with their swords drawn. "Fly!" Gildor shouted at them. "It is no good if more of us die here. I will hold it back. But you – go!" Reluctantly, the three warriors turned and passed over the bridge. Just in time. The Balrog reached the bridge. Gildor stood in the middle of the span, unarmed, but with his left hand raised. His enemy halted again, facing him, and the shadow about it reached out like two vast wings. It raised the whip, and the thongs whined and cracked. Fire came from its nostrils. But Gildor stood firm. "A Elbereth Gilthoniel," the Noldo cried, and the words echoed through the wide hall, diminishing and disappearing in the dark abyss below. "A Elbereth Gilthoniel," Gildor repeated, and then he began to sing in the ancient Elvish tongue, and his clear voice filled the shadowy cavern, and to everyone who heard, even if he did not understand the words, it seemed as if images of far distant places started to appear before his eyes: green forests and far seas under starry skies; swift rivers running through plains around hidden gates and a mighty bridge; a beautiful city lost amidst high mountain peaks and a narrow high pass, above which eagles circled. And yellow flowers blossoming upon a barren stone, and last of all, a glimpse of mountain, rising beyond one's mind's reach into a shining cloud. And Gildor sang, and even the Orcs stood silently and listened. The Balrog also stood still. The fire in it seemed to die, but the darkness grew. But when Gildor's song ended, it stepped forward slowly on to the bridge. Suddenly, it drew itself up to a great height, and its wings were spread from wall to wall; but still Gildor could be seen, glimmering in the gloom; he seemed small, but shining with sharp light, like an evening star in the coming darkness. And now at once Gildor drew his sword, and crying aloud he sprang forward towards the enemy. There was a ringing clash and a stab of white fire. The sword flew up in molten fragments. But then, Gildor leaped forth and enclasped the dark figure with his bare hands. Flame bursted out of the Balrog's mane, but Gildor was still clutching it. They both staggered on the brink, and then, with a terrible cry the Balrog fell back, and its shadow plunged down and vanished, taking the noble Elf with him. Like a dim star, Gildor's light glittered in the depths for a short time, and then the abyss darkened and there was no light anymore. ----------------------------------------------- The rest of the Fellowship has just left Moria and enters Lórien. Today, you shall travel in peace. ----------------------------------------------- The Fellowship: Groin Redbeard - Dáin II. Ironfoot McCaber - Elrohir Meneltarmacil - Uglúk Nogrod - Tom Bombadil Rune son of Bjarne - Galadriel Sally - Théodred Gone: Gil-Galad - Gandalf (left the Fellowship in Eregion) - innocent Nerwen - Elladan (lost in the Pass of Caradhras) - innocent Aganzir - Lobelia Sackville-Baggins (departed the Company by the dry streambed of Sirannon) - First Ringbearer & Protector A Little Green – Éomer (dragged into the pool by the Watcher in the Water) - Avenger THE Ka – Radagast (killed by Éomer's sword Gúthwinë by the Gates of Moria) - traitor Gwathagor - Halbarad (killed by the Companions in self-defense in Moria) – traitor Thinlómien - Gildor Inglorion (fell into the abyss with the Balrog of Moria) – innocent ----------------------------------------------- The fourth part of the journey is starting. You may begin to post now.