Tears of Mirrormere RPG

[Boromir88]

Gror had not often been in a company as mighty as the one he was in now, and he didn't like it much. The eyes of all the noble dwarves, of the council, staring back at him; waiting on his report.

Gror! Get a hold of yourself! You were never this way around Dain, and King Dain was a mighty dwarf; it was an honour to be in his company too! Then again, Gror got used to being around King Dain. This was an entirely new and uncomfortable situation for him.

"What I've seen? Oh...right...uh - what I've seen. Yes, what I've seen." Get it together you bumbling fool! Act like you would around Dain, or even your father's friends. It isn't much different.

Yet, it was different. Gror couldn't describe it. King Dain was a noble dwarf in his own right, but being in the presense of Balin's dwarves - there was a different air of nobility. One that made Gror feel like he didn't deserve to be here; he should be washing these dwarves' helmets, not addressing them at the council.

But you are here, Gror, because you were asked to be here. That's got to mean something. Tror could have sent you away and told the Council the news himself, but he didn't. Do not disappoint now.

Gror cleared his throat and spoke with much greater strength and authority:

"I have seen a large Orc army heading up the Silverlode. Nothing more than that, I felt it of dire importance to warn you of this threat that approaches. A force of this size can only mean one thing, they're looking for a fight, and I say we give them one!"

Gror turned to Tror, and bowed low; "My bow and sword are yours, lord, and I offer you my service. It may not be much at all, but it is yours for as long as you decide to have it."

[Groin Redbeard]

The manner of Gror was what Tror expected, gathering from his first conversation with him: nervous and uncertain. Though Gror stuttered often in the first few utterances he made the end product of his short speech effective. Needless to say, this was not what many of the members had expected from the messenger, any rumor of an orc army anywhere near their beloved city had not been heard or suspected by anyone. Even Tror half wished that he had misheard Gror, an army of orcs was not a pleasant thought even for a veteran soldier to think about. His army was small but bore many of the veterans from kingdom of the Iron Hills, but goblins never came in small groups, and an orc army capable of swarming the great halls of Khazad-dum could be expected to be as large as five thousand strong.

Frar grinned at Tror’s side, a chance to avenge Balin would certainly a factor in this battle. Nali gave no expression of shock or surprise, seeing as Tror had already told him before the council what the crisis was, but his brother gave a short cry of surprise.

"My bow and sword are yours, lord, and I offer you my service. It may not be much at all, but it is yours for as long as you decide to have it.”

It appeared that Tror’s rant about calling him lord had little effect on Gror, he bowed low to Tror causing his beard to sweep the ground. However, Tror did not feel as disgusted with this messenger offering him honor, in fact the same situation would probably had occurred even if Balin were there. He smiled and stood looked into Gror’s eyes.

“Most readily do I accept it then. You are a messenger of king Dain and I will give you all the honor and respect that is yours. Your fealty will not be forgotten by me when this is over.” Tror now turned to face the council. “You heard why I have called you together. The odds against us are extreme but not impossible, we have strong walls to withstand any siege that might be brought to the foot of these mountains, the uncertainty of our enemy is almost certain: they don’t know our numbers or our strength in the field. Most importantly of all: we have the element of surprise, an army that can move undetected by our scouts is definitely relying speed and surprise, they have had to be marching hard today and will be worn out when we take the field. This may give us an edge in battle.” Tror paused for a moment and turned back to Gror. “How long do we have before the orcs are upon us?”

[Durelin]

Kórin could not form words in response to Nali’s chiding. She expected the old dwarf could tell that her body only tensed further following his reminder. Remember her place? She had been summoned to this council along with the rest! But no, she was simply a “guest” here, while the others – the males here, who prided themselves their lineage and experience – they were the actual members of this council. Why under earth did they drag her here if she had no real place in the proceedings?

She also remained silent as the others hailed Trór as their lord, starting with Ori. “For that is what he is now…” Kórin brooded on these words, keeping her eyes often on her new ‘lord’. She twisted her mouth in distaste more, though, when Trór addressed the dwarves gathered around him as friends. Yes, friends. This group of “friends” chose the leader of the entire colony from amongst themselves. Each and every dwarf in the colony had chosen to follow the Lord Balin when they left their homes to retake their ancient home of Khazad-dûm. Yes, Trór had been Balin’s choice as his right hand while he ruled, but this was no clear succession.

The messenger’s words came as little surprise to Kórin, and in her current state she felt little in response. Besides the intense anger and hatred talk of orcs brought about, she was confused as to why Trór and all the dwarves summoned seemed to be settling in for a nice discussion. How much was there to discuss? If this messenger could tell them no more than that there was a “large orc army” headed their way, they were wasting their time. They needed to send more reliable scouts out immediately, and begin preparing to set out and meet these orcs in battle.

Kórin prepared to speak her mind, even though she still felt a little too muddled to voice her thoughts, but she waited at least to hear the messenger’s response to Trór’s question. Hopefully this Gror was observant enough to provide a couple more details.

[Folwren]

Kénan leaned forward and words burst from his mouth be fore he meant them to be spoken. “The element of surprise?” The dwarves of the council looked at him. He didn’t mind in the least. He had had something to say ever since arriving and he had kept quiet too long. So he got to his feet and faced Trór, giving poor Gror no chance to answer.

“The element of surprise? Do you know nothing? The orcs themselves have already had the element of surprise! They took from us our leader! The one dwarf who could possibly lead us well into battle is now dead. What you saw was a mere scouting party of the orcs. They meant to show themselves. They don’t care now what we do. They’ve already surprised us.” He snorted, disgusted, and looked around at the other dwarves.

“I would like to know just why we are in this predicament. Are we sure, I mean, that we want Trór as our leader? Was it not him who allowed Balin to go down alone and look into Mirrormere? And now he speaks of the element of surprise?” He looked again at Trór and shook his head like a reproving father. “Foolishness.” He allowed the word to hang in almost mutinous silence for a moment. “Tell me, how do you intend to use this supposed surprise against the orcs, when we are so few and they are so many?”

[Durelin]

Kórin raised an eyebrow at Trór upon hearing Kénan’s words. She was glad to find another reason for her distaste of him. Though this went beyond distaste – that he would leave the Lord Balin’s side for any reason was disturbing. Continuing to watch Trór closely she wondered if their lord’s death weighed on him heavily enough.

Kórin was very tempted to echo Kénan’s concerns, but she knew he had said enough, and that certainly his voice carried far more weight than hers ever would. Instead she returned to her feelings of impatience with all those present – not just their supposed leader.

The fiery-haired dwarf snorted a laugh of exasperation. It seemed that the blind were leading the blind, using the counsel of the blind!

“And how many is ‘so many’?” Kórin asked – then added, “exactly,” for clarity. She did not bother to rise from her seat, and readied herself to ignore any quiet admonishment from Nali beside her. He apparently thought he could restrain her somehow should she decide to take part in the council to which she was invited.

[Groin Redbeard]

The sudden outburst from Kenan surprised Tror. There was a deep flame of passion burning in the old Dwarf’s eyes as he angerly sprang to his feet. Tror’s insticts caused him to react and face Kenan suddenly, leaving the timid Gror looking about as if he were an insignifican memeber, and indeed he was as soon as Kenan started to speak.

What Tror had expected from Kenan was the reassurance in their certain victory against the orc invaders, but what the old Dwarf said was of an entirely different matter. Tror couldn’t believe his ears. He was always under the impression that he and Kenan were friends but it was evident that Kenan held him as one who had never seen war: no more than an amature soldier! However, what Kenan said next drove Tror to a state of fury. Was he suggesting that Tror played a part in the death of Balin?

“Tell me, how do you intend to use this spposed surprise against the orcs, when we are so many?”

The first thing to do is to breadk your neck old Dwarf! Perhaps I could surprise the orcs by mounting your head on my spear!

“And how many is ‘so many’?” A women asked – then added, “exactly?” Tror snapped his gaze towards the next speaker, who chimed in with Kenan. Who was this lady who spoke as haughtily as a member of nobility?

“Do not interrupt,” barked Tror, “but seeing as Kenan has already set the example for cutting people off I shall set things right by addressing you personally, Kenan.”

Tror clenched his fist and took a step towards Kenan, some broken teeth might remind him that he was not even present whe Balin had died. His angry footfall was checked by Ori, who sprang infront of the angry warrior.

“This is not the time.” Ori whispered through his pressed lips.

Taken back by this gesture, Tror paused. Ori’s words saw their affect almost instantly as Tror’s expression softened and a look of intense agony enveloped his features. Hadn’t he, by his own words, admitted to Kenan that he had failled his lord? Kenan was right on that account: Tror had failled Balin, but Tror would not address that matter. It was a mistake to let his emotions get the better of him this situation. If you want to get these people through this act like a dwarf who know what to expect.

“You lose hope quickly, Kenan.” he said in a rugged yet subdued voice. “I always thought of you as a fighter.”

“What hope is there? Show me the hope in you plans.”

“There is no guaranty of hope in any of our plans!” Tror responded vehemently,regaining some of his pride and slamming his fist on the stone table. There was a short pause, the council had not lasted five minutes and already he was at his wits end. Tror sighed and rubbed his clenched hand in his other.

“Very well then, what would you have me do, most venerable Kenan.” Tror said this last part with an air of mockery. “If we are not to fight, then what? Flee as fast as our legs can carry us to the Hollin Gate? Even if such an attempt were possible, I would not stand for the shame that it would bring upon our heads?” Tror’s voice had risen in the last sentence. Try as he might he could not contain his fighting spirit.

“If you will not fight for me fight for the women, the children, and the honor that is ours as long as Khazad-dum stands. What is this foul rhetoric that I hear from you, Kenan? You speak of Balin with pride and honor, as you rightly should, but did he conquor and restore the great kingdom of our ancestors to live in fear? Speak no more of hope to us if you have none; do not infest our kin with the lies of the enemy. If I am deemed unworthy in your sight then leave me pressence and in a way fitting to yourself dispose of yourself, but if not, then shall I proudly fight by your side as one who is willing to scrafice his all for the glory that belongs to this great city.

“I am no Balin, but who among us can ascend his lofty mountain of leadership? Already I have made faults, but I also have faith in our survival. I know your qualities, and they are many, but if we are to survive I need Dwarves who are ready to fight with me.” Tror paused to see if Kenan was going to respond. He wondered if any of the council had noticed that he had evaded the topic of what his plan was, in truth he had only vague outlines on what to do. Instead, Tror hoped to rouse some of the old spirit that had died with Balin. Tror looked back at Gror he was anxious to get back to the actual planning of the battle. Such outbursts wearried him or than any fight ever would.

[Boromir88]

Gror acted as if he paid no heed to the outburst and simply continued. Although he did take note of this dwarf, Kenan. Gror was always taught if you have a problem with your leaders, you discuss it in private, and to publicly speak out against Tror at this time is unwarranted.

"Well, sir, I had spotted the army not a day ago, following up the Silverlode, as I headed towards the mountains. My hope was an army as large as this one would be slow moving and I could get here in good time to give sufficient warning. However, with the advance party already reaching the gates, my guess is we have one hour, two at the most, before they're on your doorstep."

He felt like adding, that means we can't sit here and squabble with eachother, we must act fast, but Gror didn't feel like it was his place.

"I met a dwarf, Oin he said his name was, not long before reaching the East gate. He went ahead to get a closer look at this rabble. However, since he is not back, I fear whatever Oin has found out won't be much good now.

Oh...well I...erm...mean no offense to Master Oin. That is, I'm sure he has already found tons of information that would be useful knowing. I, well, just met...that it won't be good to wait around for his information. We have to make preparations immediately."

You were doing so good, until that trash spewed out your mouth! Way to go Gror! Now Tror will have to send you away. I certainly would, if I were him!

[Kitanna]

Kénan had been gone for sometime. The orcs had come up quickly and unexpectedly upon Balin and slain him. What was to stop them from doing so in a dwarf house? Kéni rose from his seat and went to Iari's room. He opened the door a crack to see that his sister was asleep and safe. Satisfied he returned to his seat.

He hated sitting around waiting for news. Especially when he knew his grandfather probably wouldn't share much with him. Kéni felt like pulling his hair out from this stress. If the dwarf colony was in serious danger he needed to know. He needed to protect little Iari from harm.

"If Grandfather won't tell me what's happening, I may as well learn it on my own." Kéni spoke aloud. Even as the words left his mouth and drifted to his ears he knew he was being irrational. He had no proof Kénan wouldn't share the information fro, his council. Yet, Kéni didn't want to wait around to find out what Kénan planned to do.

He checked once more on Iari before leaving. He had every intention of spying on the council his grandfather was part of. As an able bodied dwarf he deserved to know the truth.

~*~*~

Somewhere in dreams Iari heard a door close. She twitched a little, fighting off her sleepy haze. The house was quiet. She couldn't hear the angered mutterings of Kéni or Kénan. Afraid that they had been attacked in the night, Iari got out of bed and wrapped herself in her blanket. She had to make sure her relations weren't hurt in the next room.

Empty. Kéni was gone and he had left his half finished tea out. "Kéni?" No answer. There was no sign of a struggle, so her brother had left by his own will, but where under earth could he have gone?

[Folwren]

“Who else would I have,” Kénan repeated to himself. “Someone with a less fiery notion of honor, or with more realistic view of what needs to be done.” He looked at Ori. “Yes, perhaps it was stroke of stupidity that caused me to stand up and say what I did, but maybe it will make people think. We can not have the element of surprise - that is too late.”

He lowered his voice even farther to a rasping whisper as the two dwarves’ heads drew closer together. “We must know where our enemies stand and what their number is, and we have to take true calculations of the risks involved. Trór is young and hot headed, aye, like me,” he admitted, “but I at least have more experience under my belt.”

Ori sat up abruptly and looked at him with a distrustful glimmer in his eye. “No,” Kénan said, shaking his head. “I do not suggest that I take command. That would be more folly than having Trór take it. But I suggest that Trór is careful.”

Kénan would then have gone on with what he thought should be done, but Trór raised his voice to address the whole council again, apparently to give his thoughts on the plan of battle.

[Groin Redbeard]

His words did not have the spiteful hatred that was expected. Kenan’s words were cleverly chosen, offering criticism while giving explanations for why Trór was mislead. Kenan really knew how to play his cards at the council; however, they were not the empty words of a diplomat. The old man had a point about the danger of taking the battle away from the gates. It was a risk that Tror was willing to accept, but was it his decision to make?

Trór took a good look at Kenan. He was old and experienced, and that meant knowledge in Trór’s book. The aged Dwarf also had grandchildren to take care of; that was a burden that Trór was thankful not to have. Perhaps Kenan was growing soft in his old age, thinking more of the children than on the outcome of the battle. Was the certainty of their defeat as inevitable as Kenan believed? To win, or to lose, would seal the fates of the unborn; even Ori who had been exposed to the worst battles of the age could not deny that the outcome of this battle would have far reaching consequences for Durin’s entire house. To lose meant the destruction of Balin’s dream. If so, Khazad-dum would never again be occupied by a Dwarf. Trór frowned and looked away. It was terrible to think of the uncertainty of war, much less the consequences of it on those who were shielded from its terror.

Trór’s gaze was focused on the ground. It could not true that he was seeking glory on the battlefield! His fingers itched to pick up his spear, to strain his muscles and feel the crash of his axe on an Orc’s shield, yes, he was anxious. Everything was so simple in war: kill or be killed; there was no need to think, only to do. He did not believe, however, in what Frar often said about death on the battlefield being the most honorable way to die. Trór believed that only the truly great would ever be remembered when they die; therefore, why go seeking glory in death? Everyone must accept death, but be diligent in holding on to life. To live for his people, to cheat death where it was so commonly found: that was the key, and Trór enjoyed doing it. He was not seeking glory in battle: death was calling him to do battle.

Death was his lifelong enemy, and Trór enjoyed the challenge of beating him again and again. Perhaps he couldn’t help it, but it made no difference. Fighting the shade of Death and his precursor, Fear, Trór was always strong enough to conquer the pair and to deal them out to the enemy. To be like a god –there was nothing like it in the world. Nothing on earth or in sea is so like a god on earth as a commander in battle.

“You make some excellent points Kenan,” Trór turned to face him. “Doing nothing is an excellent strategy. No my friend I am not mocking you. Winter is coming swiftly from the mountains and the Goblins will soon wish for the warmth of their caves. However, their dwellings are hundreds of leagues to the north and they will be hasty to gain our halls. Old Man Winter will be a great ally for us!

“I must disagree with you, however, on the matter of open warfare. The Orcs have held Khazad-dum before, and they know its weaknesses. We cannot rely on the secrecy as we did in the Second Age when the evil in Mordor swept across the lands. They might expect us to use this again as our strategy. The Goblins of Gundabad can be very cunning and they are not without their siege weapons. No doubt they will bring them to subdue us.

These gates are defensible, but it takes time to erect defenses, time that the Orcs will not give us if we let them hasten hither unopposed. No sir, I will not allow that! Balin’s death has hit the soldiers hard in particular and they need revenge. A fire burns in the heart of every one of my soldiers. Having the soldiers put on the defensive is very bad for morale, it might even be dangerous. Instead of slowly letting their flame die we should use this to our advantage, strike while their spirits are hot. No victory will be gained from my plans, but I can guarantee that it will be no defeat either. It will buy us valuable time.”

[Groin Redbeard]

The old Dwarf winced as Tror rebuked Korin's question, he was just glad that Kenan was on his mind. Nali agreed with the first part of Kenan's questions, even if he did think that they were out of place, but the last part was almost an outward act of treason. Nevertheless, he felt split when Tror began to speak hotly against Kenan, Tror seemed like a youngster defying a father, yet Nali knew that his loyalty was with the new lord.

Thankfully, Gror had continued with talking instead of holding back from the argument. Nali could feel the majority of the council beginning to bristle at Kenan and Tror, the quicker that they got back on track the better.

Two hours is a very short time for a crisis so dire as this. Nali looked up at the stone faces of the gates and wondered if they could hold off, or possibly hide their great city as they they had done before when the Dark Lord enveloped the surrounding lands. He shook his head in silence, nothing happens twice, this meant war. He wished that Gror would be more precise in his explanation of the enemies host. A round about number would give the council a grasp of how to position their own soldiers.

[Folwren]

Kénan bristled with wrath as Trór’s words switched from furious accusation into words smoothed with honey. He spoke of honor in the same breath as he spoke of Kénan’s cowardice, or his disloyalty to the clan. Such speech left Kénan feeling cold and hot at once. What made it infinitely worse was that he had no chance to answer. The young ambassador, Gror, answered Trór’s original question of how soon the orc army would be upon them. As his answer went on, Kénan slowly sank back in his seat. His questions had no been answered, and a sense of doom was settling slowly but surely on him.

As he settled into his seat, he reflected upon what had passed. He had spoken out against the new leader before an entire council. It was an act upon which he could be called later to explain and apologize, and perhaps worse. His thick eyebrows lifted as he cast a swift glance at Trór, gauging the likelihood of such an occasion, and he doubted it. Trór was busy with the weight of war, and unless he intended to use him as an example now, he would probably not dig up the trouble again, if he could help it.

It was true, such a responsibility would not be an easy thing for any dwarf to bear, and Kénan knew that Trór was young and inexperienced and it would therefore hang all the heavier on his shoulders. This was a reason to both blame and pity the dwarf. If he were wise, he would listen to others, but whether or not he would was yet to be discovered. Kénan began to pay attention to what was said.