Last Hope for Moria RPG

[The Perky Ent]

They spiders, they all should die,
as they captured and tried to kill me like a fly!
But i escaped, and now were gone,
and soon we'll be near the riches i faun.
Out of the forest we traved to
the Misty Mountains, white and blue.
And up the steps we go,
and surely we will find great woe
but until then i will trod on my tip toe

[Carlas]

The great hall had become silent as the orcs stood silently, waiting to hear what Nazklash had planned. Many of them still had doubts about Nazklash, he was so much smaller than other orcs but his stare was hard and firm, and none at that moment dared to make a sound.

Nazklash once again took his place on the large boulder facing the crowd of orcs and stood as tall as his small back would permit. He stared out over the large group and smiled a hideous smile that could hardly be seen in the dim lighting of the hall. Nazklash had always known he could lead the armies in Moria better than the chief, or perhaps anyone, but he had never imagined that he would one day actually be standing infront of the orcs like this, with their full attention. Everything had happened so fast that he had hardly even had the chance for it all to sink in, but now was not the time to think on such things, he had to get the meeting going again.

“You all know tha the chief has gone off with some of his best, and most loyal soldiers. There’s no way that we could beat ‘em in a normal fight, even with all of us ‘ere, their some of the strongest and smartest orcs in Moria. What we need to do, if we want any chance a winning, we need to surprise ‘em, so they don’t have a chance to prepare ‘emselves…”

Just before Nazklash could utter the next word, he heard a loud grunt coming from one of the orcs near the front. He looked down and saw a relatively small orc with only his left eye with which to see and almost half his index finger cut off. “An how do we do that?” The orc asked loudly, so that everyone else could hear. “They’ll know something’s wrong if they come here and they can’t find noone cause we’re all hiding ready to fight. An there’s no way to travel in these halls without those other orcs hearing us coming.”

“I know that! You just wait ‘til I finish talking before you start askin’ questions that already ‘ave answers!” Nazklash snapped at the orc sharply. The orc shut his mouth quickly and looked to the side, annoyed but not willing to argue again.

Nazklash watched the orc for a moment before looking back over the group. He scowled and started to speak, but with more authority then before. “The chief should be comin’ back tonight, so we don’t ‘ave long to get ready, so you better pay attention and no more interruptions unless it’s somthin thats actually important.” He looked around at the faces of the orcs in the group and continued on once he knew everyone understood. “There’s a large passage only about a half hours march away and it’s the only way for ‘em to get from there to ‘ere unless they want it to take another 3 days. The passage is filled with lots of columns and rocks that ‘ave fallen from the walls. We can wait there for ‘em to come and all of ‘em to be in there, then we can attack ‘em from above, behind, and infront, trap ‘em completely”

Nazklash saw many orcs in the crowd smile darkly as they realized that the plan could actually work, if done right, but they also knew that one slip up could cost them a lot. Nazklash continued on. “Now we don’t have much time, you can either stay ‘ere , or come with me and finally be able to kill the chief! But anyone who does stay ‘ere will be killed the moment we get back.” He paused. “So, if you’re comin, get your armor and start preparing to fight!”

The large mass of orcs immediately started to move in two different directions. The larger group started to head to where their armor was kept, and a much smaller group started to leave the hall. Nazklash watched the group carefully before walking over to Lugnush. “Go around and head ‘em off, kill ‘em.” Lugnush smiled his hideous, twisted smile before gathering some orcs quickly and heading off down a smaller passage. Nazklash watched as the last orc was swallowed by the darkness of the passageway before he went to see how the other orcs were coming along.

[Imladris]

The sun flashed between the mountain crags as it rose into the sky, pushing the grey dusk before it. Below, in the dwarves’ camp, a thin rabbit rotated upon a make-shift spit. Herbs were rubbed into the flesh and the aroma was tantalizing. Loni was busy frying some sausages in a skillet one of the dwarves had thought to bring along, while Flori, Ori, and Balin were holding a sort of counsel among themselves.

“We should send some dwarves to scout,” Flori said glancing at the high walls.

“I don’t think that’s really necessary,” said Balin, his eyebrows squinting in the sun. “Besides, it would be dangerous.”

“What do you mean?” asked Ori. “They would be in stealth, while the whole of us could well enough catch the attention of anything that might be lurking in the dark caverns of Moria.”

Balin nodded, and said, “Yes…there is that. But consider it this way: three dwarves are much more easily surprised, routed, and slain than the rest of us combined. I think we would have a better chance if we attacked at once.”

Flori glanced at Ori and then said softly, “I think you’re making a mistake, Balin.”

“We have what…fourteen dwarves? Say that three were either slain or injured if they were attacked. That would bring the number down to eleven making our force even weaker if there be enemies to fight, which I highly doubt.”

Flori shrugged, and said, “As our leader, we must abide with what you say.”

There was a short pause before Ori said, “I’m going to have a bit of breakfast.”

“After everyone is done eating we will attack or merely enter the Mines, depending on what fortune has placed in our way,” said Balin with a smile.
~~~~~~~
Packs slung across their backs, axes newly sharpened gripped firmly in their hands, the dwarves marched towards the Great Gates. The air was very still, shadows mottled the crumbling steps. Balin decided to consider the stillness as result of empty caverns of Moria rather than as a warning about what may be waiting for them in the dark shadows.

The Gates were in a sad state of disrepair. They sagged upon their tarnished hinges and the rotten wood of the gates was warped from sun, wind, and snow. Balin gazed upon them, mentally determining that the Gates should be among the first things to be fixed once they were settled in Dwarrowdelf.

There was a soft whistle, and crude arrow, fletched with black feathers, arched from the ramparts of the walls, and landed with a shrill ping against Balin’s helmet.

[Taralphiel]

Maron Sandbrace

"My boots are itching to be off" he grumbled to himself.

Maron was not the tallest of the company, and in the middle of the fray he could see very little. But the mountain looming over him was enough to send a rush through his blood and put a grin on his face.

"We're so close! Let us be off soon!"

Overall Maron had still not done justice on the trip. He sat with a sullen expression while they were in Mirkwood, and did not need to bother raising his axe in the talk with those Elf-folk. Truth be told he had spoken to very few, save maybe Oin, and that had been before the start of their journey.

'Well, I was not here to be jester, nor center of a party" he thought "I am here for True Silver, as are all that came here. I wont forget that..."

His mind caught up, he landed square into the back of the dwarf in front of him. With a mutter of apology, he did not look up to see some of the dwarves were on edge. It seemed something had happened up front. He heard the whizz of an arrow and gulped...

[mark12_30]

She didn't even look up; she took her battle-axe in one hand, snugged the chinstrap of her helmet, and resettled the pack on her back. Then she stepped forward beside Ori, and that was when she looked. But the opponents were not yet showing themselves. She wondered how many there were. Then she glanced at the arrow that had pinged off of Balin's hellmet. An orc-arrow. She had expected nothing else.

She glanced to her right and left. Fourteen dwarves. She tried not to be pessimistic; but who knew how many enemies lay in wait ahead? She glanced at Balin, and gripped the handle of her axe with both hands.

[Saraphim]

The unmistakable sound of an arrow reached Narin's ears. He had been stuffing his face with sausages. (A major staple of food on the entire journey, thanks to the foresight of Loni. )

The offending arrow bounced off of Balin's helm, and Narin's first wild thought was that elves were out to destroy all of Balin's respective headgear. Then logic took over and he realized that elves would not come near Moria if thier scented hair oils depended on it.

"Orcs," he said needlessly, and unhooked his axes. Everyone else was on alert, eyes scanning the pockmarked walls of the old city frantically, attempting to find the bowman.

Narin found Loni behind a rock with a few others, some of whom had bows of thier own drawn.

"Well, Loni, it looks like we might actually see some fighting after all," He sighed, "I had been hoping the bloody goblins would leave us be, but as it stands..." He did not have to finsh the sentence. Loni nodded grimly.

"Look at it this way," Narin said, "If we win this, Moria and all its spoils are ours,"