Last Hope for Moria RPG

[Orofaniel]

“Do ye think we’d actually succeed?” Lugnush asked curiously, yet carefully. He didn’t want to upset Uzgash by showing his lack of trust in the mission. Well, actually Lugnush thought this was a rather good plan. Uzgash had explained to him how they were going to kill Nazklash; it seemed to easy, almost like killing a defend less Orc with his hands on his back. Nazklash would almost see his own head rolling on the floor, if that was eve possible. Lugnush laughed while thinking about this. “A surrounded Orc, is a dead Orc, Lugnush.” Uzgash stated.

"Don’t you see?” Uzgash replied, sounding a bit harsh. Lugnush expected that Uzgash way to reply was only supposed to emphasize how easy it really was. Lugnush nodded, while Uzgash continued; “You see, the best thing about this plan is that Nazklash has no idea what we’re planning whatsoever. It’ll come like a big surprise! It is unexpected…”

Lugnush liked the idea that Nazklash didn’t have the slightest idea that they were planning his death. “…at least if no one is eaves dropping… Right here…Right now.” Uzgash muttered in a low voice. It sounded like he didn’t want anyone else to hear what he said. “Yeah, we better watch out,” Lugnush said, without meaning it, when he saw that Uzgash was on his guard, looking back and forth.

“Everything will go as planned…I’m tellin’ you,” Uzgash said finally and sneered.

Lugnush gave a smile. He was full of energy and was could ony imagine what it would be like to kill Nazklash off and take his place. It seemed so unreal, yet they were close. But then the doubt struck him, a thought was probably more like it; why had Uzgash proposed him to take over for Nazklash?

What did Uzgash get out from all of this? Lugnush considered the possibilities, but none of them seemed reasonable. Well, at least none of those he could think of. “What’s in if fer ye?” Lugnush asked Uzgash, trying to sound a bit naive, Yet again he didn’t want Uzgash to get the impression that Lugnush wouldn’t follow him; because Lugnush would follow Uzgash, there was really no doubt about that. However, Uzgash didn’t look too surprised over this question, but asked Lugnush if he could repeat it.

“You know what I said!” Lugnush growled, but lowered his voice as soon as he saw the expression in Uzgash’s face. Who could blame Lugnush for being a bit suspicious? Uzgash was no ordinary Orc, he was Uzgash the Iron Helmed; an Orc captain.

It was like Uzgash had read Lugnush’s mind; “Well, you know…I’m already a Captain, and you’re…nothin’…” h said and smiled. Lugnush wasn’t too pleased with that answer and Uzgash noticed that.

“What I mean is; you have no an opportunity to become someone, you can be a Chief. I’m already a Captain, so I’m not that interested….yet. You see, when both of us are powerful Orcs in Moria, we can rule this filthy place as we like. I can become the second Chief later on maybe…” Uzgash smirked. Lugnush thought it sounded reasonable and quote fair, and was suddenly not affected by Uzgash comment anymore; The one saying that he “nothin’ while he, himself was a Captain. “If there really is such a thing as two Chiefs,” Uzgash added and laughed. Lugnush laughed as well.

The two Orcs were then interrupted by another Orc. He ran into the Hall, calling for Uzgash. “What is it now?!?” Uzgash growled. You could tell by his voice and the expression in his face, not to mention his body language, that he was annoyed. “We need some help ‘ere..” The Orc muttered. “With what?” Uzgash asked, now seeming even more annoyed.

“You better see fer yourself,” the Orc replied. This had to pretty bad, Lugnush figured. Uzgash sighed and growled;” I’ll be there in a minute!”

The Orc didn’t seem to move, he just stood there. Uzgash looked at him and narrowed his eyes; “Well…Shoot!!!” Uzgash cried. His voice was harsh and the Hall roared. The Orc seemed surprised by this, but hurried off. He probably didn’t want to make Uzgash more upset than he already was. Lugnush thought that was understandable.

“I better run…” Uzgash sighed. “I wonder what those filthy Orcs have done now. I better fix it quick…Anyway, just follow the plan, and it’ll run smoothly. ..I’m tellin’ ya.” Uzgash said and laughed. Lugnush nodded to confirm that this was a deal. They were set and ready…

[Imladris]

Ori, with Flori beside him, watched as six of the dwarves placed Balin stiff corpse in a solid stone tomb. His white beard had been braided, resplendent rings bedecked his fingers, his hands crossed an axe that rested on his chest, and a golden crown encircled his brows.

Flori cleared his throat and in the dwarvish language that only their race knew, he gave an eulogy over their fallen leader. He spoke softly, retelling Balin’s brave deeds and his part in the retaking of Erebor from the vile Worm Smaug. As Flori’s voice grew in passion and admiration, Ori slipped into mists of memory. The times in the coal mountains when they had been nothing but blackened weary dwarves, with no hope of ever re-possessing Erebor and the piles of wealth within. He had always been cheerful then, confident that one day they would come back into their own. And they had, with Gandalf’s and Bilbo’s help. A smile glimmered on Ori’s face at the thought of them.

Flori nudged him, signaling that he had finished. Ori bent down and kissed Balin’s clammy forehead. “That your reign would have been happier and longer, my friend,“ he whispered. With a gesture, the tomb was sealed with a slab of stone. The words, BALIN FUNDINUL UZBAD KHAZADDÚMU were carved deeply in the smooth surface.

Ori straightened, cleared his throat, and said, “As you all know, the threat of the orcs has increased. We must leave now while we have the chance before this spawn of Moria become too great for our feeble force.” Ori sagged, his cheeks drooped, and he sighed, fancying he heard the shrill cackles of orcs.

[mark12_30]

Sniffling a little, she wiped her tears with the back of her grimy hand, and leaned over to look at Narin's palm.

"A beryl, " she murmured.

She looked up at Narin, and said, "Balin was fond of beryls." And she burst into tears again.

Narin's shoulders slumped. But then before he closed his hand around the gem, she reached up and took it.

"Thank you. I'll make a Mithril setting for it, in his memory."

She returned to weeping in earnest, and Narin sat fidgeting next to her, trying to think of something else to say. He failed, which may have been the best thing he could have done.

[Taralphiel]

Maron

Standing and listening to the eulogy, young Maron felt more empty than ever in his life. Springing forward and chasing after orcs had served to let the bitterness and rage well up and spill out, and his axe was a testament to that. Now thoroughly chipped and stained inky black, he looked at it and sighed.

'Why am I even here' he thought bleakly to himself as the eulogy ended. He knew not, and doubted now that their leader was dead that he ever would know.

He stood and saw Lin weeping, and at all the others not knowing what words would fit. And he knew that as one of the clumsiest of them all, he would do less than good. He turned thumbed at his axe.

'Needs a good sharpening' he thought to himself again 'As do our spirits. This is a loss to suffer. But what shall we do now? Im the least of people to know that. I shall have to see what comes out of all of this...'

[Melisil]

The general mood around the Dwarfs was horrible. Lóni hated it. A thought struck him. Well, as well as one of his thoughts could (they were terribly jumbled). The Dwarf stood up, looking around at his other Dwarfs, he addressed them all, "Dwarfs all! My kinsmen all here! You all know how terribly horrible we feel. Balin dead, Orcs almost everywhere. But why should we give in? Why?" Lóni looked around at the Dwarfs again. They were listening, but only for the sake of listening. "Dwarfs! I propose we have a celebration to-night!!"

Almost all of the Dwarfs looked up at him, confusion and wearyness etched on their faces. Lóni continued, "Yes, a celebration. We can make it a celebration of Balin's life, and of our lives. God knows that we need something special to happen. Please, let us do this." he implored.

"Lóni, sit down." came one Dwarfs reply, "We shouldn't have a celebration."

Lóni looked at the Dwarf, Lóni knew that he was just as weary as him, "And why not? Why not? We need this, we do. At least it'd be better then this horrible gloom. I can assure you, I can, that we will not survive this time, if we are in such horrible spirits as this. Please, my fellow Dwarfs, I implore you. Please. And if you can't do this out of your own spirits," he added, "can you try to have a celebration, to left all our spirits, for Balin? For me?" Lóni swallowed. He couldn't read the other Dwarfs expressions, but he hoped that they would agree. Lóni may not have been completely in his senses then, but he had it etched in his mind that they should have a party. On the other hand, he wouldn't do much if they didn't go along with it either. I hope. he thought to himself in a thought-whisper, as he scanned the faces of the Dwarfs.

[Imladris]

“Orcs, Ori!” Oin shouted, bursting into the Chamber of Records. His face was white and he panted. “They are gathering around the gates like flies to fruit,” he added. “I’ve barred the gates.”

Ori nodded, and shot a glance at Flori. The orcs had done well killing Balin. The fire that usually burned in the heart of the dwarves was low, nothing but embers in the wake of Balin’s death. That did not bode well with Ori. Dispirited dwarves could be easily vanquished. “We can still hold Moria,” Ori said. “But we must fight bravely, not letting our grief weaken our arm. Station yourselves at the Bridge,” he ordered, picking up his journal and picking through the leaves. “Linsie and Mali, you do not have to go if you do not wish to,” he added.

Finding the empty page he wrote:

We have barred the gates from the scurrilous orcs. I fear that at the death of Balin, they have rallied themselves together to attack us. We can hold them long if they do not attack us in an orderly fashion. But even if they burst through the gates, they cannot hope to cross the bridge without a great loss of their own. If they do break through the gate, I expect we will die a horrible death and maybe even suffer for a time in their cruel hands. However, we can always escape towards Hollin if we cannot defeat them at the Gates.

[mark12_30]

With a snort, Lînsie wondered why she was suddenly considered delicate and vulnerable. had she not fought well til now? Had she not accounted for her share of orcs?

Ori did not see the scowl that she sent his way, and it was just as well. Perhaps I should go out on to the hillside and fetch my false beard, she thought, fingering the edge of her axe.

She looked at the page Ori was writing on, and scowled. "How do we know that the Hollin gate is free? There could be just as many enemies there as here. Is it wise to plan a retreat when we don't know whether the road is safe?"