The Road to Erebor RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Dain Ironfoot · 03-25-2003, 03:39 PM

Dain woke up as if in a nightmare. He was covered with snow and could not see. He had little sense of what was up and what was down. He began digging frantically with his hands, hoping against hope that he was actually digging in the right direction.

Fear gripped his heart. How could one tell up and down in a dark world like this. Perhaps he was digging furiously sideways and would soon die, unable to breath.

Just when he was about to despair, his head broke through the snow and he took a gasp of air. All about him were snowy mounds, presumably with his companions buried underneath. He had been the first to dig himself out.

He turned his attention to the others and began digging to help them. Here and there, he saw signs of life as the mounds of snow quivered and a hand or leg came up. He pulled and heaved at these. Within a minute, two more figures had surfaced coughing and spluttering and gasping for air.

Fear gripped Dain's heart. There were a number of dwarves coming out of the avalanche, but nowhere could he see his son Durin. A terrible pain smote his heart. What if something happened to his son? The thought was almost unbearable.

He remembered Durin walking several paces behind him. He dove into the snow searching for him, flinging the white stuff furiously this way and that. Filled with a fury that he could not remember except when striking out against Orcs, he dove and dove again, vainly trying to find Durin and pull him out.

How many times he had searched Dain could not even say. But, finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he felt a cold, stiff figure underneath him that seemed strangely familiar.

"Durin, is that you?" Dain crie out as he lifted him from under the snow. The boy lay still upon the snow, and fear gripped the father's heart.

He bent his head down to Durin's mouth. The faintest of breath was coming out.

"Fire," he bellowed. "We must have a fire for Dain and the others who are close to freezing."

He looked about expectently, hoping that someone would hear him and start a blaze on the wider part of the pathway under the protected cliff. Meanwhile, he shielded his own body over that of his son, trying to warm him, and draw life back into his bones.

Inside his heart, he cried out for help, "Aule, great Valar, bring back my son, I beg of you. Give him life."

Dwarves and Elves were helping each other dig out, and some kind companion had built a fire. Dain dragged Durin close beside it. He reached down and, to his joy and relief, he saw Durin's body begin to move and stir, as the pallor of the boy's face turned from white to red.

[ March 25, 2003: Message edited by: Dain Ironfoot ]

03-25-2003, 03:39 PM	#11
Dain Ironfoot Haunting Spirit Join Date: Jan 2003 Posts: 77	Dain woke up as if in a nightmare. He was covered with snow and could not see. He had little sense of what was up and what was down. He began digging frantically with his hands, hoping against hope that he was actually digging in the right direction. Fear gripped his heart. How could one tell up and down in a dark world like this. Perhaps he was digging furiously sideways and would soon die, unable to breath. Just when he was about to despair, his head broke through the snow and he took a gasp of air. All about him were snowy mounds, presumably with his companions buried underneath. He had been the first to dig himself out. He turned his attention to the others and began digging to help them. Here and there, he saw signs of life as the mounds of snow quivered and a hand or leg came up. He pulled and heaved at these. Within a minute, two more figures had surfaced coughing and spluttering and gasping for air. Fear gripped Dain's heart. There were a number of dwarves coming out of the avalanche, but nowhere could he see his son Durin. A terrible pain smote his heart. What if something happened to his son? The thought was almost unbearable. He remembered Durin walking several paces behind him. He dove into the snow searching for him, flinging the white stuff furiously this way and that. Filled with a fury that he could not remember except when striking out against Orcs, he dove and dove again, vainly trying to find Durin and pull him out. How many times he had searched Dain could not even say. But, finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he felt a cold, stiff figure underneath him that seemed strangely familiar. "Durin, is that you?" Dain crie out as he lifted him from under the snow. The boy lay still upon the snow, and fear gripped the father's heart. He bent his head down to Durin's mouth. The faintest of breath was coming out. "Fire," he bellowed. "We must have a fire for Dain and the others who are close to freezing." He looked about expectently, hoping that someone would hear him and start a blaze on the wider part of the pathway under the protected cliff. Meanwhile, he shielded his own body over that of his son, trying to warm him, and draw life back into his bones. Inside his heart, he cried out for help, "Aule, great Valar, bring back my son, I beg of you. Give him life." Dwarves and Elves were helping each other dig out, and some kind companion had built a fire. Dain dragged Durin close beside it. He reached down and, to his joy and relief, he saw Durin's body begin to move and stir, as the pallor of the boy's face turned from white to red. [ March 25, 2003: Message edited by: Dain Ironfoot ]