Last Hope for Moria RPG

[Imladris]

Ori drove his axe blade into the belly of an orc. Black blood, with a dead bluish tint to it, spilled from his insides, staining the shining silver blade. What looked like large twisted worms began to seep from his torn stomach and Ori averted eyes to the orc’s face.

His eyes were a sickly yellow, the black pupil a diamond shape. His fingers, adorned with talon-like nails, scrabbled at his belly, pushing the worms back in. Blood specked foam dripped from his yellowed fangs as he barred them at Ori, his limbs gathering for a final spring like the wargs at the Lonely Mountain would prepare to tear the throats of men. Ori shuddered and, with a quick swing, lopped the orc’s head from his neck.

The orcs were tumbling from the broken gates and sprinting across the rocks. Balin, with a mighty roar, swung his axe right and left. Orcs fell beneath his arm like wheat felling before a farmer’s sickle.