Land of Darkness RPG

[Kransha]

Bror looked up coldly at the new member of the conversation, and the only besides him, now. His left brow cocked simply, gazing up into the honest face of the man. He could not, would not trust men, and would not trust elves, and they didn’t trust him or each other. All the mind’s workings were reduced to rubble in this place of darkness and pain, for no one could think straight when faced with such overbearing, dreadful odds. But, this human seemed set in his goal, however strange or foolhardy it might seem. He put his gauntleted palm and open hand up with veiled reluctance, and shook the hand extended to him, but as no sign of allegiance. He only needed to rely on those who he could trust; he didn’t wish to be bound to them in alliance, for such an act might doom him to their fate. It was all he could do not to instantly pull his hand away, as if the hand that held him was a serpent, clinging to him with venom-wrought fangs so as not to be cast off into the surrounding abyss of shadow.

“I don’t misplace my loyalties, boy.” Bror growled back as he removed his hand, at first hostile with unconcealed belligerence in his gruff, raspy tone, but soon relaxed his grim attitude into one of understanding, and reasoning as he considered the man’s words. “Trust is hard to find down here, and you are right about it in what you say. I don’t trust you, you don’t trust me, and no one trusts any other. I think universal trust, that which you speak of, is a petty impossibility…” Now, though, as his disillusioning speech continued, he saw a sliver of truth in his counterpart’s ideals and was forced to grasp them. “But, I have nothing else to do…Any man who at least tries to extend his hand in friendship shows an admirable quality or two…For now you can trust who you want, and you can trust me if you truly desire, but when she comes, all alliances are rendered useless…Do not think folk who hate each other will help each other in the face of danger.”

“I disagree with that, dwarf.” Zuromor replied briskly, but with some disappointment at not truly recruiting the dwarf to his noble cause. “When she comes, you’ll see.” Bror nodded, again reluctantly, unwilling to even admit to the possibility of being wrong, and ripped his hand away at last, turning on his heels from the group of men and muttering sarcastically as he headed towards his kin, “Indeed. I’m sure I shall.” And as he said thus, he walked slowly, and cautiously, eying the other members of the escapee party with care, towards the other dwarves of the company not far behind.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Raeis froze suddenly, stopping midstride in the darkness so that if anyone had been too near to her they would have ran straight into her. Around her, the musty silence was oppressive, the cramped spaces hemming the elf in, making her feel claustrophobic, the caves of the ancient monster within radiating their disapproval against the footsteps of one of the children of Eru. Arrogance of the elf that would step into Her chambers…

The others did not seem to sense the sudden shift in the air, and continued their endless prattle, talking to each other in low voices of how the elves would betray them – fools! Each was far younger even than Raeis, but did they not realise she could hear them? Every word was listened to by the elf, soaked into a mind twisted by pain and a half-madness, held and stored like a spider holding a fly…

Another shift in the air. In the depths of Shelob’s darkness, something moved again, a dangerous shift of silence. Raeis fell into a crouch, her back against a wall as her pointed ears pricked, seeking out the sound once more, trying to find some direction in the echoing, disorientating void that seemed to surround her, distorting all sense of space, her dark eyes staring wildly into the darkness for some sign of light.

Still the Men and Dwarves seemed to notice nothing, their weak senses rendering them deaf and blind.

“When she comes, you’ll see.” The noise of the dwarf’s noisy bray seemed violently loud in the darkness and Raeis winced at it.

“Shhhh….” The hiss escaped her lips quietly. Around her, the others turned to her, curious as the what had made the strange, silent elf speak. Raeis’s eyes continued to stare into the darkness as she spoke again, her voice a whisper, her lips barely moving.

“Something stirs – the air shifts…” she looked up at them. “She is moving.”

There was a second of silence then one of the dwarves scoffed disbelievingly at her, almost laughing. “Pah! ‘Something stirs’…” he mimicked Raeis’s voice, his lip curling distastefully as he looked down at her. “Think you can take us in so easily, elf? You mean to scare us, to make us afraid and trembling, so you can call her and bring us to our deaths-” The dwarf was almost shouting in her resentment when another, one of the women, the tall, bronze-skinned one, interrupted, letting a harsh ‘pcha!’ sound escape her lips, although whether it was a word or simply a noise, Raeis couldn’t tell. At the moment, she didn’t care. She looked up at them again, her eyes focusing this time on the Southron woman who had silenced the dwarves.

“She knows we are here,” she stated quietly.

As if the great spider had heard, a sound suddenly echoed throughout the caves – a rock falling, the crunch like breaking bone making every one of the escapees jump and spin around, looking for where the noise had come from. Raeis didn’t move, but the carved elven sword was in her hand from her belt in a moment, her eyes flashing. She hastily offloaded the other weapons, the knives and one of the two swords, onto the ground in front of her, motioning for the others to take them. She held back the other sword though, pushing it towards the tall woman without a word. Another rock fell and a small, high sound echoed through the darkness. Raeis closed her eyes fearfully, then opened them and stood slowly, sword ready in her hand.

“She knows we are here,” she murmured again softly.

[Sarin Mithrilanger]

It seemed that the elf-woman was right. She did know. The sound from deep within the tunnel came like an answer to an unspoken question. Zuromor approached the dwarf whom he had talked to earlier. "You should not underestimate the Elves, especially if you think of them as your enemies. Though it seems now we will see our answer." Zuromor turned so that he could see all of the party. "Stand in your small groups if it be your will, but surely all of you can see that all of us might escape... if we work together. Stop fighting amongst yourselves, for if ye continue that when she comes..." Zuromor trailed off and seemed to be thinking of some horrific event when he began to let one possible senario play out in his mind's eye. What if the would not band together?

"Death waits for those who are not willing to stay their hate and vanquish evil when they see it. I have long waited for a chance to slay those foul orcs that kept us prisoner, and I am sure all of you have to. Let us slay this dark beast, together! Then we shall have a revenge that will taste much sweeter than slaying any orc. We will be free. No more orcs ruling our lives. Surely that is worth fighting along side those who you do not completely trust. Especially when your feelings come from hatred born ages ago. Let go of that hate and fight. She will not fall easily."

With that Zuromor walked over to the Elf-woman and grabbed one of the small knives she had lain about and secured it in his belt. He looked at her and for the first time he felt something he could not explain nor understand. He felt at peace, yet he felt torn. He did not feel pain, but he felt a strange sort of nausea in the pit of his being. He felt himself blush and then he turned away and braced for her coming.

[CaptainofDespair]

The great spider Shelob, last of Ungoliant's spawn, was preparing to unleash armageddon on the party. With their own deep running divisions, she would be able to bring them down, one at a time, methodically, torturing those survivors with 'who would be next?'. Yet, she had been wounded earlier. She would take all these intruders into Her domain, and devour them, as atonement for her previous failure.

Morgoroth sat, unmoving, against a wall. He listened to the sounds emanating from the vast deep of the Tunnel, and he understood. He knew she would come, it was only a matter of time. He had hoped she would stay her hunger, but it seemed she was moving, readying herself to strike. The disunity that spread itself like a virus through the former prisoners, would be her greatest asset. But one of the humans had tried to rectify this, at least partly, but he was alone is his plea for a call to a united front. None of the others seemed willing to strike up a temporary alliance, to deal with the threat of Shelob.

And so the Elf stood up, slowly, from his position against the wall. He continued to listen to the reverberating echoes coming from the inner most parts of the passages. He gracefully made his way to one of the dwarves, the one who had 'questioned' him earlier about the escaping orc. “Ah, master dwarf, it seems we are at an impasse." The dwarf was startled at this, and he turned quickly, with a knife drawn. Morgoroth slowly placed his hand on the blade, and began to move it aside. "We cannot be killing one another, at least not now. It would be unwise to weaken ourselves for Her coming." The dwarf answered only with low-pitched grunt. "I propose we settle our differences, and unite, at least for now, to defeat the wretched creature that stalks us all." The dwarf stared at the Silvan for a long while, and finally spoke. "I will need to speak with my brethren."

Morgoroth, with a bit of hesitance, turned from the dwarf, and carefully made his way back to his place against the wall. It would provide him with a vantage point throughout the corridor. There, he prepared himself for Her coming, and hoped that the barriers that divided the group, would collapse, and they would defend as one.

[Bêthberry]

"Something stirs--the air shifts."

Listening intensely to what the elf-woman had said, Darash strained to hear what she had been hearing. Then that dwarf with the mind of rodent had rippled the silence like a stone breaking water's surface. Darash had felt too great contempt for the dwarf's poor strategy to speak more to him than one word of derision. That, at least, had worked to silence him. She strode over to the elf woman with the burning eyes and looked deeply into her face, seeing beyond the scars and sensing something there, something she found familiar. There was knowledge there, no, more than knowledge. There was wisdom, a wisdom like to that Darash knew from her own people. For the first time since her captivity, Darash sensed she was in the presence of one who might share some common understanding. With a slight, honorific bow, she accepted the gift of the sword and took her place beside the elf as the man Zuromor spoke.

When he was finished, they were three, elf, man, Amazigh. Darash silently began humming a song to herself, 'Umbella dareya umbella hadaryeh. Ushalla ngange." Then she stopped, listening as the rock groaned. The torches flickered heavily as the air became heavy with foul vapours.

"Grash, we learn about monster. Tell fast, how she? Tall? big? Many arms? Kill with running or crushing? Soft belly? Scales?"

They looked at her, questioning why she broke the silence. Raeis looked at her and nodded approval. Zuromor found the heat in his face, the nausea in his stomach abate as he realised what strategy Darash implied.