Last Hope for Moria RPG

[Imladris]

“Not well,” Balin replied with a smile that faded quickly. He sighed. “I have looked everywhere for it, Flori…and I cannot find it. It eludes my grasp it would feign rest unknown in the darkest cavern than to glitter upon a dwarf’s finger.”

Flori eyed Ori and cleared his throat.

“I am going to look into the Mirror mere,” Balin said, with a sigh. “I have not yet looked into the Mirror.”

Where could it be? I have looked everywhere, looked in every known cave, searched in every fissure, sought amongst the rubble for it. But it was not there. Did it still dwell there? He approached Mirror mere and kneeled beside the water.

The Mirror did not show his own unworthy reflection, but revealed the mountains, snow still sparkling upon their peaks. The crown of Durin rippled in the dark water. The seven stars glimmered faintly within the depths, as if it was lit with starlight.

What had the dwarves awoken in Moria’s depths? Had Durin’s bane died? Or had it left the bowels of the mountain? Balin shook his head. His own dwarves had made great progress, except for the orc skirmishes that continued to annoy them. He figured that the Great Gate would always lie in a bed of rubble.

Balin wondered if Ori had continued to send messages to King Dain. Balin himself wrote the words, deciding to leave out the continued annoyance of the orcs, but he could not help but wonder if Ori would add his own messages at the end of the notes. Would these messages, if he did indeed write them, sour his honey-sweetened words? It wasn’t as if progress had been going badly. It had been going on quite well, but darkness yet lingered within the passages. Doom seemed to lurk in the caverns. Contentious were ripe among the dwarves. And the Ring continued to elusively haunt his memory.

He leaned down and brushed the dark water with his lips. There was a silent sigh, a hidden whisper. Death crept within the dale. An orc drew an arrow to his ear and with a silent leer, loosed the string. The arrow flew and drove itself into Balin’s heart.

[The Perky Ent]

It was cold. A dark chill and a hidden presence loomed over the camping dwarves. Balin had been gone for quite some time. The dwarves were very quite. The silence stabbed Nali like a knife. "Where is he!" Nali said making an echo through the caves. A small chunk of the ceiling collasped and landed inches from Nali's feet. Theh dwarves were in shock.

"Nali what are you doing! Take it outside!" one dwarf said as he stared Nali down. "The fresh air would do you good! Why don't you go take a trip to mirro-mere. You might even find a ring of power!" Ori said before laughing very loudly. "Honestly! Balin is obsessed with those rings!" And then something crosed Nali's mind. Finding a rind of power. Surely it's worth is ten fold of mithril. "Yes, I think fresh air would do me good" Nali said walking twords Mirro-Mere. As soon as the dwarves were out of sight, Nali ran.

In a very short time Nali reached Mirro-Mere. "where is that Balin? i need to make sure he doesn't know what i'm doing!" And then he saw him. His hand dipping in the pool. Balin was dead. Nali didn't know what to do. He had been shot by an orc arrow in the heart. Suddenly, Nali saw an arrow land beside his feet. "Rats! Missed! Unlike that other dwarf!" an orc said as he ran off twords the Silver lodes.

Nali ran back to the camp twice as fast as he came to mirro-mere. He was panting so hard he could've died. "What is it Nali?" Ori said in a honey tone. "It's Balin! He's...He's...He's dead!" The dwarves were in shock. In a split second, Ori got up and said, "Where did you find him, Nali?" "In Mirro-mere. He was shot in the heart by an orc arrow." At once Ori ran, and the other dwarves followed.

When they all came, they were in shock. At once, Ori pulled the arrow out of Balin. "They will pay for this! Where did they go!" "They went down the Silver lodes!" At this, the dwarves drew their swords. "What are we waiting for? Let's get em! FOR BALIN!" bellowed one of the dwarves.

And into the night, the orcs charged to the silver lodes, leaving Balin's body. Surely, Nali thought, there would be blood tonight.

[Saraphim]

Narin sat restlessly at the gate, itching to join the fighting that was taking place below along the river. Only an order prevented him, a half-thought from Ori to remain and gaurd the entrance.

Out of boredom more than anything else, Narin walked the short way to Mirrormere to retrieve Balin's body, which had been left by the others in thier thirst for revenge. He trusted to his ears to hear any orc that would be foolish enough to approach the gate, and to the hope that they would alll have joined the fighting anyway.

Balin lay as Nali had found him, with an wound to the heart and a hand dangling into the water. Narin self-consciously closed his dead commander's eyes before attempting to maneuver the corpse on to his shoulder. It was difficult, as Balin had been a heavy-set dwarf, and his body was already beggining to stiffen.

As Narin slowly stood, he saw blood drip from the arrow-wound in Balin's chest, and fall into Mirrormere.

Narin froze. He watched helplessly as the droplets hung suspended on the surface for a moment, then dissolved into the water. He couldn't say whether it was balsphemy or a tribute to Balin, but he resolved not to mention it to anyone.

Hefting Balin onto his shoulder, Narin's thoughts wandered elsewhere. As he reached the gate again and set Balin's corpse carefully down, Narin remembered a sword that he had hoped to finish. It was missing something, perhaps a gem.

He could ask Lin to set it for him, but he had rarely spoken to her since thier last fight, the one in which had knocked her beard off. He shifted nervously when he thought of her, and of the fact that he still owed her his life. Narin blushed and took of his helm to scratch his head.

Come on now, Narin, He thought to himself, You've never been interested much in them before, why should now be any different? Besides, she's a proffesional, and definitly hasn't shown any interest in you...

Narin stood up suddenly, the noise of returning (and by the sounds of it, victorious) dwarves reaching his ears.

[Amanaduial the archer]

An awkward silence had descended between the two brothers as Balin left. His footsteps down the corridor were the only sound to be heard until eventually they died away. Ori opened his mouth to say something, then stopped. Flori sighed.

"Look, I'll...I'll go after him. Try to reason with him," he said.

"Aye. I'm not sure he should be left so when he is like this..." Ori trailed off, biting his lip as he realised how his words had come out. Flori laid a hand on his brother's arm and replied simply, "Aye."

Setting off down towards the Mirrormere at a stroll, Flori whistled an old dwarven folk tune absently through his teeth, one he had heard ever since he could remember about Durin and his kingdon, before he broke into soft, low singing.

"The world was young,
The mountains green,
No stain yet on the Moon was seen,
When Durin woke and walked alone.
He named the nameless hills and dales;
He drank from yet untasted wells;
He stooped and looked in Mirrormere,
And saw-"

A ragged, drawn-in gasp, followed by a splash and the sound of something dropping onto the ground made Flori stop his singing and a sudden premonition of what could have happened flew through his mind. His heart plummeted and, pulling out his axe, he rounded the corner at a run to see a terrible sight.

The dwarven body lay on the ground surrounded by a small, stunned group of dwarves. One, Nali, stumbled away, shouting shakily that he would go and alert the others, but Flori paid little heed to him. By Balin's side sat Narin, and Flori saw that the dwarf had closed their Lord's eyes. Dropping to his knees at Balin's other side, Flori gazed helplessly at his friend and leader's face. All the things he had left unsaid and all those spiteful thoughts...foolish dwarf! Did you never compliment him? His work was not all so bad was it?!

Tears came to Flori's eyes, making them moist but not dropping down his cheeks and he dragged in a great, sorrowful sigh, simply staring at his friend, unable to speak. Out of one of the corridors came the other dwarves, and gasps and cries of shock and sorrow followed as they saw their friend. Flori crossed his friend's arms carefully, then stood, looking at the others with a burning anger in his eyes.

"They will pay for this! Where did they go!" Ori cried, and Flori saw tears in his sensitive brother's eyes.

"They went down the Silver lodes!" answered Nali, pulling out his axe. In a second weapons had appeared in all of the dwarf's hands.

"Well what are we waiting for?" Flori roared back, his fury red hot as he gestured at his dead friend. "They killed our friend, companion and Lord. Lord Balin of Moria lies dead - let all orc-kind beware, for this night....this night, revenge shall flow with blood!"

A cry of approval greeted this and, led by the furious Flori, the dwarven-warriors charged towards the River Silverlode, their axes thirsty for orc-blood...

[Taralphiel]

Maron

Maron trudged over the cold rocks and closed his eyes. He thought of the sight of true-silver and its gleaming in the rock. He marveled over how it pulsed through the black dark of the stone with a pale glint and what a fine thing it would be to heat and mould it. But the cold snapping of the night and the misery surrounding his head soon brought his eyes back open.

"It all makes me wonder" he mumbled. He kicked absently at a pebble. Balin had been slain, and a great bitter sorrow had swept over, only overpowered by the want for revenge. He still looked at his axe absently, not even bothering to clean it of the orc flesh. He was not alone in his misery, he knew.

It made him feel smaller on this journey than ever. When things became so bleak, he had little idea of what to do. Maron was no strong leader, and commanded no respect. All he could do was lend an axe and an arm to swing it when needed. And he would keep that up as long as he could. Till his arms refused to budge or his whole body.

He pushed himself to keep up with the group, and keep his wits about him and fight with his whole strength. Then he began thinking of those they had lost

"Aye, 'tis all I can give" he thought to himself again, not noticing he was talking aloud.

[The Perky Ent]

The dwarfs charged down the silver lodes, chasing after the orc. After a short period of time, they could see him on the horizon. "There he is! For Balin!" screamed Floi as the dwarfs sped twords their enemy. The orc did not bother to run. He stood there, on his knees, laughing. The dwarves caught up to him almost immediatly.

"You killed our friend, you foul pathetic spawn of filth. You gave us a pain that can never be filled! You will die!" shouted Ori as he lifted his ax to the orc's head. There was silence. The other dwarves stood, watching to see what Ori would do. Ori was having trouble desiding weather to chop off the orcs head or torture him painfully. After a few moments, the orc begane to laugh. "What's so funny? You think it's funny to die?" shouted Ori in a rage. "That's what's funny!" the orc said, coughing. "What's funny is that's the question you should ask yourselves!" and at once, the orc screamed. Instantly, a horde of 50 orcs charged out of no where at the dwarves. Ori gave a screem before he kicked the kneeing orc in the face, snapping his neck. The orc was dead, but the matter was not over.

"Get ready men!" shouted Maron. "And women!"said Lînsie. "FOR BALIN!" Nali screamed as he charged into the field of orcs. The others followed. A battle pursued. The rage of the loss of Balin had filled their hearts with strength. In no time what-so-ever, the orcs were all slain. Except for one. The dwarves formed a circle around him. He had his leg cut off, but he wasn't dead. As the dwarves moved closer, the orc tried to find a form of protection, to no avail. As the dwarves aimed their axes on the orc, he shouted "...this is not the end...he was not the last, as am i...". And as he finished, the dwarves swong at him in unison.

As the dwarves walked back to Balin, Nali stopped to look at the orc who had killed Balin. The orc was perfectly preserved, with his head firmly behind his spinal cord. Nali started to sing:

A orc we followed to the lodes,
and sliced as if disecting todes.
And now we wait til doom shall come
through the light of flame and echo of drum.
We will move on thoughout our life
...but you orc...will be cut down by knife...

and Nali took his ax and chopped the orc in two. Nali broke down into tears. The loss of a dwarf was a hard burden on him. A fellow dwarf helped him up, and he walked back to Mirro-Mere

[Imladris]

Ori wiped his face. Orc blood stained it and he could almost taste its vileness. Flori stood beside him and Ori said, “Fifty orcs slain.” He laughed and added, “And Balin dead as well. We never should have let him out alone. They must have known he was the leader of us.”

“There was nothing we could do about it,” said Flori, pain and guilt creasing his face. “We didn’t know how many there were.”

“Or how many there still are,” said Ori. He fell silent, remembering Balin, blood gushing from the heart. His face lifeless. He had heard that the dead looked asleep. Not so with Balin. The dead do not sleep…they are just there. A mangled corpse, bereft of warmth, deprived of life, a thing to be buried in the ground. Not so with Balin. They would lay him in a stone tomb under a shaft of pure light. Linsie and others would carve in dwarven runes Balin, son of Fundin lord of Moria. Ori laughed. When had he ever been lord of Moria? In spirit yes, but in reality the dark had ruled it. Minions of the deep held Khazad-dum within their filthy, bloody palms and the dwarves had been like children trying to take a coveted possession from a king.

Alas sorrow has come to Moria for yestreday being the tenth of Novembre lord of Moria fell in Dimrill Dale. He went alone to look in Mirror mere. An orc shot him from behind a stone. We slew the orc, but many more…up from east up the Silverlode.

Ori turned the journal and let Flori read it, who shook his head and said, “Ori -- Oin found the raven…or the remains of it. His limbs were torn from him, his flesh eaten raw. It was a cruel death.”

Ori sighed and murmured, “So Dain has had no word from us for these last three months. We must leave this place at once. Flori, we must assemble the dwarves and leave here as quickly as we can.”