Last Hope for Moria RPG

[Melisil]

On the way to re-join the others, Loni stopped himself when passing a local inn. He entered to have a pint or two.. or three..

Loni entered, the loud pub noise sounded like strange pub music to his ears! "Ah, I could live with this!" said the Dwarf, taking a long gulp of the pint he had just ordered. Loni let out a contented sigh. He stayed at the inn for most of the night; He left drunk and very tired.

The next morning Loni awoke, earlier then he would have liked, but with time to spare before going. After dressing, Loni walked to the kitchen, making himself a filling breakfast.

The porch was very refreshing indeed- for this was where he went to after he ate. He breathed in the morning air. It cleared his rather sleepy and hung-over head.

After a while of standing on the porch Loni let out a sigh of a poem he had heard as a child:
Where base of Erebor meets land,
There shall be my hand.
No fear for death nor sorrow,
For my life, you may borrow.

His mother had told him it, before she died. Loni remembered the day for a minute, before turning around and walking back to his room.

His stuff was mostly ready from yesterday, so all he needed to do was to put on his armour. Loni finished this, and went looking for Balin.

[Imladris]

Ori

Slinging his pack over his shoulder, Ori lumbered down the stairs rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, fondly remembering the lazy mornings and the mug of ales that would normally have awaited him. Instead it was a hasty bite and then going off with Balin.

Dawn yet crept from the east and in the lingering twilight he could see Flori staring at the mountain. His blue eyes were soft, a smile played about his lips. Ori, with a murmured greeting went over and stood beside him and they both looked upon the mountain. In the distance Frar and another burst into drunken fragments of song.

“Do you remember when we first came here,” said Flori, “we were so excited…least I was. To us the piles of treasure were incomparable and it was hard to remember that there could be more added to the lot.”

Ori nodded. The mountain towered above them, a fortress curled in morning mist. “It is still grand,” he said. “But…some have outgrown it…long for better things. They long for Mithril.”

“Come, Ori,” Flori said, clapping him on the back, “it will be a glorious adventure. Look at the dwarves around you -- there’s even a poet, a dwarf after your own heart! There will be danger, but there was danger when you went after Smaug, too! And it was fine, was it not, as you cowered in the hidden tunnel with your friends about you? Moria is just the next step…whatever is there, it will be just another Smaug.”

Ramming his elbow playfully into his brother’s side, laughing at his cheerfulness, he said softly, “Just another Smaug.” He thought of the unknown shadow that rested in Moria, the doom that settled like a dark cloud -- he smiled at his own poetic description.

He suddenly realized that Balin was beside him: his brown eyes glimmered in the rising sun, a broad smile grew upon his face; his white beard hung in a billowing fall down his chest.

In Moria, in Khazad-dum.
But still the sunken stars appear
In dark and windless Mirrormere;
There lies his crown in waters deep.
Till Durin wakes again from sleep.


“Long have I wished to look in Mirrormere and see the stars and the crowns ripple within the deep waters,” Balin murmured.

Orli looked at him, at the eyes that did not see the Mountain bathed in the rising sun but the realm of Dwarrowdelf gilded in gold and Mithril it‘s broad halls ringing with the song of dwarves in time with the pounding hammers. “You will soon, Balin,” he said.

[Amanaduial the archer]

As Balin arrived beside them, Ori turned to converse with him and Flori yawned widely, then looked around guiltily. He probably shouldn't have been up so late last night. One of the older dwarves was looking at him with some disapproval, but Flori caught Floi's eye and grinned sheepishly at him.

Looking up, the dwarf saw a shadow move behind one of the windows of the courtroom and nodded, satisfied. Dain would not let them down then; despite his misgivings, the king would send them off with his blessing, of that Flori was sure. Not just as a king either; Flori would be sorry to say goodbye to his old friend.

Beside him, another dwarf stifled a yawn, and Flori grinned at him sidelong. "You bade a long farewell to the mountain last night as well, hmm?"

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:31 AM January 29, 2004: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]

[Will Witfoot]

Alrik sat at the 'Durin's Anvil', sharing a table with a few miners younger than himself. Having heard that he was part of the expedition the youngsters had flocked around him to listen to his banter, eager like dwarf lads that had just received their first battle-axes.

"Now you young 'uns know how to swing a pick, I hope, wether at a seam of gold or at a damned orcs head!" There was much chuckling at this one, all of them allready being several pints south of sober. Ofcourse, he could outdrink them any time of the day but the 'one or two pints' had mysteriously been transformed into eight, and the number had only increased.

"Well, I must be off. May your picks never grow dull." The youths cheered him loudly before one of their number dozed of, his head thumping against the hard surface of the table. Making good of the distraction, Alrik slipped out.
Aye, he would need some sleep before setting of.


Alrik awoke from his slumber, feeling very reluctant to get up. Getting angry with himself for slacking he tore of the sheets and got up.
Everything was packed and ready, he just needed to get dressed and he could set out.

He wandered to the back of his smithy where stood an old wooden cuboard. He fumbled for the silver chain aroung his neck and produced a key and pushed it into the lock. The doors swung open silently.

He took down the first part of his armour, the breastplate, and began to get dressed.

[Gird]

Frar looked around, suddenly realizing what time it was and how long he had been up. He hadn't planned on being at the pub till dawn, but he did, so he'll just have to play the cards he was dealt.

~*~*~

Last night, he had finished his packing, and decided to go see his family first, otherwise he would forget to later. He had gone to his sisters house and said his fairwells, and also to her husband and their kids. He then went over to his brother, Fror's house. Fror decided he'd treat Frar to a couple of ales, the night before his long journey.

A couple of ales turned into a couple more ales, and the couple of hours planned turned into a night of drinking and partying. The only sleep Frar got was when he passed out drunk, for about half an hour, when he was awoken by Fror. "Frar, he he, it's almost dawn, wake up!" said Fror with a drunken smile. A beer smelling reply came, "Oh really, dawn you say?... oh my! Dawn, I've been here the whole night!" Frar looked at his brother with a concerned look. It didn't last long, soon they were both laughing hard, at what seemed like a joke.

A little while after that, they had managed to get back to Frar's room, douse his head in water, get his stuff, and head back outside the mountain. Fror was drunk, but he still carried his brothers bag down for him to honour one of the silentshield family about to embark on an important journey.

When they got outside, they saw Flori another dwarf from the expedition party standing out there. Frar could hear him trying to remember the last line of the song that Nali had sung earlier. Frar, and Fror joined in to help the last line along(Frar had taught his brother the song last night at the pub). They had a good chuckle over this, and then Frar turned to say goodbye to his brother.

"Goodbye brother Fror, perhaps once we shall meet again, once we reclaim Moria for the Dwarfs. And then you can come, along with the wife you'll meet in my absence, and start a family in those great halls." said Frar, sad that he would be leaving his closest friend and brother. Fror put his hand on Frar's shoulder and said, "Fair thee well Frar Silentshield, may all who stand before you crumple in defeat, and may you be victorious in honour bringing to the Dwarf name. I shall see you then." Frar and Fror smacked their hands together, shook them once, and nodded. Fror turned, and left Frar.

Perhaps it was just the beer talking, but Frar stood there confident of his journey ahead of him.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:48 PM January 29, 2004: Message edited by: Gird ]

[Saraphim]

In the cold morning air, Narin carefully organized his important belongings into a worn leather pack. He strapped his green cloak on and fixed his axes firmly onto his belt, and paused in remembrance of his brother, who had used one of the axes to fend a goblin away from King Dain during the Battle of Five Armies, only to get a spear in his chest for his pains.

Narin sighed, and hoped that battle had been his last. Nevertheless, he wore his old armor under the cloak. He plaited his beard and noted with pleasure that it stuck a few inches below his belt.

His forge equipment was too heavy to take; he had packed only a small hammer and tongs. The rest of it would go to the keeping of his aunt, his only living relative in the Lonely Mountain. Narin never really saw eye to eye with her, so he had not had a long, tearful goodbye the previous night.
"Just sell it all, and make sure it's at a decent price too." He had said, then gave her the key to his forge and shook her hand.

Narin did not have many friends, so his farewells really consisted of no more than that: a handshake and occasionally a ‘good luck’.

In fact, Narin did not expect to get any closer to anyone at Moria, either. He was very opinionated and took a secret joy at proving people wrong. This did not make him very popular, and the friends he did have respected him more than liked him.

Narin looked around his room one last time, checking for any missing trinket he might need. There was none, he had everything important in his pack.

Then without another backward glance, he left.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:19 PM January 29, 2004: Message edited by: Saraphim ]

[Carlas]

Nazklash sat silently looking about the small passageway that Lugnush and he had been sent to guard. It was one of the deeper passageways, and Nazklash felt it was pointless to be guarding tunnels that no one would ever make it to with all the other guards, if anyone even came. They had lit a small fire, not because they really needed one, but because they could and he doubted anyone would catch them.

The two had been sitting in the tunnel watching the fire for some time now. They had talked for a bit, but both had gotten tired of the other fast. Nazklash looked up the tunnel searching the darkness behind their circle of light and to his surprise he saw a large figure walking towards them out of the darkness.

“And why would you be all the way down ‘ere Uzgash?” Nazklash asked suspiciously when he finally realized who it was. He knew he was a captain, but he doubted that he’d come all the way down into the deep passages just to yell at them about some stupid fire. Uzgash just looked at him slowly and sat down beside their small fire. Nazklash and Lugnush looked at each other quickly, both a little surprised at the captain’s strange behaviour.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the others talking of a revolt lately, am I right?” Uzgash finally said, as he watched Nazklash look back up the hall quickly before answering. “ I ‘ave, but I doubt they’d do much anyways, none of ‘em dare take charge.”

Uzgash nodded slowly looking down at the tiny fire and then back up to meet Nazklash’s eyes. “Would you be willing?” He asked the small orc in front of him. Nazklash was surprised by these words, and more than a little suspicious. Why would a captain like Uzgash be asking Nazklash if he would be willing to lead a revolt? It didn’t make any sense…

Seeing Nazklash pause, Uzgash added “Would you take charge of those miserable orcs? Kill the chief, and maybe even become a captain?” Nazklash smiled as he heard the last word. If he became a captain he wouldn’t have to sit in these halls all day, no, he may even be able to leave this cursed mountain for a time to kill any of the villages or cities around it. Could he really do that? But why not…it’s not like anyone was coming here.

Nazklash was still a little suspicious, but didn’t see the harm in answering. “I would, but it don’t matter anyways, no one's goin to follow me.” He finally said, still watching Uzgash intently. Now it was Uzgash’s turn to smile. “They’d follow you, they know how smart you are even if you aren’t very strong.” Nazklash frowned at this but even he knew he didn’t have much strength, and Uzgash had said everyone thought he was smart. Nazklash sat up a bit straighter, he was smart, everyone would be right to follow him.

“And what about me?” Asked Lugnush who had been watching the conversation silently. “I’m smart and strong!.” Uzgash looked over at the large form a bit annoyed, but trying to look normal, he’d have to let Lugnush take charge too or this could start a bit of trouble. “Well, that’s true.” Uzgash answered, trying to figure out how this could work. “Maybe you could take command with Nazklash, but only as second in command, one captain’s enough.” Both Nazklash and Lugnush looked at each other silently, both annoyed with the other.

Nazklash looked back at Uzgash suddenly. “So, then ‘ow do we get about commanding a revolt without the chief knowing?” He asked, wondering if it was even possible. Uzgash leaned forward and looked at the two orcs. “Like this.” He answered, and he sat with them the remainder of the night, planning the chief’s demise.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:54 AM February 07, 2004: Message edited by: Carlas ]

[Taralphiel]

Maron stood about the group of dwarves slowly collecting in the fresh morning. He watched the town slowly wake, and grinned despite himself. He could not tell if he felt foreboding, but all that seemed to matter was bringing back some true-silver, and watching his old Uncle's eyes brighten.It had been many years according to him since he had held some, but knowing the state of his mind, he doubted that story was even true. He could not help but chuckle out loud.

He slowly paced about on the spot, his axe beginning to idly slip from his grip. He had little patience, and kept his eyes sharp for any sign of Balin.

Maron felt the warmth of the sun tingle at his back, and saw the day begin to open up.

'It will be a while once I head into the Halls that I see dawn. I wonder if I should miss it?' he paused, and looked at all the other dwarves that were wrapped up in their own thoughts.

'Hm...seems there is more to worry about...'

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:11 AM February 02, 2004: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Orofaniel]

Lugnush

"You can be in second command...one captain is enough." Uzgash had said. Lugnush nodded even thought he didn't quite agree. Why should he always be the "second best?" Why? He though about this and felt anger inside of him. He knew he was both stronger and smarter than Nazklash. that wasn't hard to see, he thought while he looked at Nazklash; Bad legs, short and weak arms, shoulders which weren’t wide at all, bad back….. He then turned his eyes towards Uzgash. How could he decide who was to be the captain and the second command? This was highly unfair. Oh well, he was the Orc Captain.

But what was in it for him? Why would Uzgash, the Orc captain want them, or Nazklash, to lead the revolt? It didn't make sense at all. If he'd been smart he'd do it himself, and take the whole command. But no, he was asking Nazklash to do it. So, if Nazklah did as Uzgash suggested, would he really get to be a captain, or was this some sort of a trick? To coop the leading position after Nazklash had done his job, and then maybe kill him off? This thought brought Lugnush back to himself; Uzgash would then probably kill him too, so that neither him of Nazklash would "start any trouble".

"Uzgash...What's in 'er for yer'?" Lugnush asked him suspiciously. "What?" Uzgash said and turned.

"I said: What's in 'er for yer?" Lugnush repeated even more suspiciously. He walked towards him, as he saw that Nazklash walking to get between the two Orcs. "Now listen you stupid one eyed Orc!" Uzgash said quite angry.

Lugnash could feel his face burning of plain anger. "How dare you?" Lugnush cried. "No, Lugnush..." Uzgash laughed as he saw that Lugnush was getting angry. "How dare you?!?" Uzgash continued, not laughing anymore. Uzgash's face was strict and proud. "Here I come, and offer you two a place in the top...and you ask of my motives?" he said sounding disappointed in Lugnush, while still angry.

"If you don't want it; FINE! I don't care...I'll do it myself." he said again.

Lugnush now suddenly felt bad. If Uzgash withdrew his proposal he wouldn't even make it to the second command, maybe it wasn't that bad. "N-no..." Lugnush muttered.

"Of course we'll hear what you have in mind Uzgash!" Nazklash suddenly said. Uzgasuh turned towards him and smiled. “Alright 'ehn..." He said. But still he was a nit cranky.

"But I won't 'ave any more of those...those...accusations!" he growled and looked at Lugnush, while he pointed at him.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 5:06 AM February 08, 2004: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

Beside him, another dwarf stifled a yawn, and Flori grinned at him sidelong. "You bade a long farewell to the mountain last night as well, hmm?"

"Not really," Flói said, but mostly to himself. He had been busy in his house last night, making sure he would never leave behind something that he needed. Hence, his bag looked more like an oliphaunt - he also left four bags destroyed, casualties of his war against possible need.

He felt a yawn rising again, but did not indulge this time. He was now fully awake, and fully aware of the fact that he will be soon off for a journey, a journey full of danger, full of toil, and, if all is well, full of rewards. He smiled at that.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:27 AM February 04, 2004: Message edited by: Nilpaurion Felagund ]

[Orual]

Óin squinted up as the clouds parted to allow some sunlight to filter onto the beginnings of the company. Not all of them were present, but the group was getting steadily larger. He shifted his cloak irritably on his shoulders and folded his arms over his chest.

The day was quite nice, actually, dry and getting pleasantly warm as it progressed away from the chill morning. There was not enough air movement to be called precisely a breeze, not now, anyway, but it was certainly enough to keep it from getting too hot. The rose fingers of sunrise still clung to the horizon, and it was shaping up to be a good day on which to start a journey.

Óin looked over at one of the other dwarves, a younger fellow named Maron, if he was not mistaken. He walked over to him, looking up at the sky appraisingly. "Not a bad day," he said grudgingly. Maron looked at him--it was an odd comment coming from Óin, who was known to be not entirely thrilled about the expedition--and Óin shrugged. "Well, it isn't. Even a mistake of an adventure needs a good start. Don't you suppose?"

[Taralphiel]

Maron had thought himself alone in his ponderings until he heard an older and gruffer voice.

"Not a bad day,"

Maron turned and saw that it was Oin, one of his company. He was a very respected dwarf, and he could not help but feel a slight on edge. He alse remembered that it was he that had had misgivings about going on this quest.

"Well, it isn't. Even a mistake of an adventure needs a good start. Don't you suppose?"

Maron paused for a moment before saying "Aye, that is true. It would make it harder to leave if the clouds were about our ankles..." he tried to be a little jovial, but feared it was all wasted. He kept his eyes on the clouds before saying as meek as any dwarf can sound:

"I can only suppose why Balin chose me to be here and head back to the Great Halls. But I still wonder if there will be true silver, and all the old glory waiting there for us..."

[Will Witfoot]

Alrik sat on a boulder, puffing delicate rings of smoke and at times inhaling deeply from the long pipe held in his left hand. In the almost breathless sunrise they floated quite a disstance before dissipating into the tiniest whisps of grey. A fine day indeed to start the adventure.

The polished metal of his armour caught the red light of the newborn sun and reflected it in a dozzen prisms of fiery shine. It felt good to be garbed in his battle gear once more, instead of the leather appron he wore around his forge. Offcourse, smithing was a work which he loved, but he needed the babtism of blood and sweat to remind himself of his roots. And those younglins could do with a reminder, too.
He ran his fingers along the smooth metal of the breastplate, remembering the hours of work he had spent on it, spent on every single link and plate all those long years ago when he was still a beardling in his fifties.

He lifted his axe, studying the weapon that had been forged before he had been born. The smith had captured the moment of a huge eagle of the mountains taking flight: the blades were its wings, spread to take the avian to the skies and beyond, ready to call the wind that made the orcs cower in fear.

He remembered how he had gotten the weapon, how his father had fallen that fatefull day when dwarfes, men and elves fought to contain the plaque of orcs spawned in the belly of the misty mountains. He remembered taking the axe from his fathers corpse when his own pick broke in the press of bodies around him. Never had he been able to forge anything like it, allthough his smithing skills were held in great respect by his patrons and the rulers of Erebor.

Perhpas in Khâzad-Dum he would find the craft needed to forge such weapons, but his hand would allways be on the haft of his fathers axe. It was one with him.

[The Perky Ent]

When Nali awoke from his slumber, he realized he was late. He was always late. He realized if he wanted to get at his treasure, he'd have to be first in line. Because of his short slumber, he had already packed his things and was ready for the journey.

Nali's residence was secluded and didn't need someone to tend it. It was hidden behind a large cluster of rocks behind Erebor. Although irresponcible, Nali enjoyed his normal walks to and from his house.

Climbing over the rocks like he always did, Nali surveyed he horizon. The conditions were perfect for a journey. Nali knew many shortcuts through the mountain and could arrive with Balin in a small cluster of minutes.

After a while of journey, Nali could see the dwarfs smoking their pipes and set for their journey.

Nali exhaled and said, "they haven't left yet!" under his breath. Quickly roaring, the other dwarves recognised him. They didn't seam to mind that he was late.

Nali was suprised to see that all the dwarves weren't there. "Nali!" Balin said, "Nali...i'm sorry to say that we already got to Moria and back and didn't need your help after all! HA HA HA! Just making a joke there lad! Now, let's see..." Balin scanned Erebor for other dwarves. Smiling, Nali pulled a pipe out and started to smoke.

The sun is high the moon is gone
The dwarves are off, the chase is on
Through travels far and wide we go
to reclaim a land captured not by friend but foe.
When sun is gone and fire is out
will the world be filled with doubt?
To Moria, we travel afar
and will sing great songs, as if at a bar!

[Imladris]

Ori

Ori looked at the gathering dwarves with satisfaction. He did not see the female dwarf, Mali, but Lin was there as were the others. They would start as soon as the sun finished peeping above the mountains.

Balin, he noted, was in a jovial mood as he told a latecomer that they had left and returned loaded with riches. As he waited, the thrill of adventure slowly came over him and he thought of the music that would ring once again in the halls of Moria. He wondered if he would be able to make a flute out of mithril and his hands trembled at the thought.

A song rang out, interrupting his musings, and he looked eagerly for the singer of it. It was the dwarf who had come late, and Ori slowly made his way towards him. Green eyes glittered from under the helm of his bronze helmet and a scar arched jaggedly across his brow.

“So, what is your name, Dwarf?” he asked kindly. “My name is Ori,” he added, bowing.

“And Nali to you, sir,” the dwarf replied with a grin and a bow.

“I am impressed with your poetry and your singing voice,” said Ori, shifting uncomfortably on his feet…it sounded so awkward saying it for some reason.

Nali beamed, however, and said, “Thank you.”

“Can you play an instrument as well as sing?” Ori asked curiously. It would be quite merry to sit around a camp fire singing and playing songs…

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 8:59 PM February 04, 2004: Message edited by: Imladris ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Malí scrambled, shoving papers and writing utencils into her pack. She'd planned on packing the night before, but instead Malí had been content with finishing other papers that were due. Malí was always distracted like that, always forgetting about one task and leaving to finish another. Now Malí regretted it, because she knew she would be late and it would not look very responsible showing up when everyone else would be ready. Malí was not good with first impressions, or any impressions for that matter, and being late for a invite-only mission did not help.

Shoving the last reference parchments and other necessities into her pack, Malí took one last sweeping glance over her work room and sighed. Leaving it for the first time in years would be hard, but Malí was ready for the new opportunity that would be waiting in Moria. So, Malí turned away and left the work room, not looking back as she walked away.

Malí started to jog as she hurried to reach the group, however late she would be. However, she grew quite tired quite quickly, and grumpily heaved as she found and joined the group. Malí smiled weakly, embarrassed as some of the others noticed her and stared as she joined them. She was about to make a greeting, but Malí quieted when she noticed that most of them were listening to one of their companions singing a song.

...Through travels far and wide we go
to reclaim a land captured not by friend but foe...

Then Ori began speaking with the singing one, and Malí stepped fully into the group, feeling more embarrassed and disappointed in herself with every passing second. She was typically very practical and precise with everything. Hopefully the group would realize this soon, and not let her random tardiness mar their opinion of her. Looking around, Malí found that everyone from the day before was present. They were ready to travel. Ready to take back their home.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 10:30 PM February 04, 2004: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Saraphim]

Narin shifted from one foot to the other, waiting impatiently for the entire company to arrive.

The sun had risen fully now, spreading light over those who had already gathered. Narin thought they looked rather scruffy and nervous, compared with the fearlessness of the previous night.

One thing remained the same, however. All were nearly spilling over with the excitement of being included in such an important adventure.

Looking around, Narin recognized one of the dwarves from the meeting. He had asked around and learned his name: Lin. Something about him made Narin especially irritated, and he still could not figure out why. His mind told him it was simply annoyance at having competition, but he knew it was something more than that.

Narin eyed him suspiciously as Lin conversed in whispers with Balin. He tried to keep his temper from flaring, and remembered that the company was so large they might not come across each other at all.

Narin looked away and tried to study the others again. Mostly they were milling about aimlessly, occasionally talking to each other in hushed voices. The young minstrel who had so entertained them last night was singing once more, and again Narin wondered at his skill.

The sun is high, the moon is gone,
The dwarves are off, the chase is on…

[Melisil]

Loni walked around the company of Dwarfs somewhat aimlessy. As it was still so early, not many others were out. There was a small table set up(Loni couldn't even guess who had thought of it) filled with all types of breakfast goodies. He smiled, and half walked, half ran over to it.

'Mm.. delicious.' he thought to himself, taking a bite out of a sausage. Loni looked around. Unfortunatly there would not be very much food for everyone. He grabbed a handful of other sausages and walked over to another Dwarf so as not to seem he was 'hogging' them.

"Uh.. sausage?" Loni inquired when the other Dwarf noticed the small pile he was hiding.

"No thanks," he replied.

Loni started "The names Loni Stormlegs. And you are?" he asked, outstreching his arm(the one not full of sausages) to the other Dwarf.

The Dwarf grabbed his hand saying, "I'm Narin."

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 8:07 PM February 05, 2004: Message edited by: Melisil ]

[Orual]

"I can only suppose why Balin chose me to be here and head back to the Great Halls. But I still wonder if there will be true silver, and all the old glory waiting there for us..."

Óin grunted, looking back at the sky. "Balin has his reasons. He wouldn't have chosen you if he didn't think you ready." He turned to the younger dwarf. Maron seemed edgy, uneasy. Óin, for a moment, let his roughness slip, and clapped Maron on the shoulder. "Balin knows what he's talking about, lad. And he knows how to choose a company." He looked around. "This may seem an odd group, but sometimes it's the odd groups that make the best companies. And sometimes it's the oddest members who turn out to be the most valuable assets."

Maron looked pleased, and Óin coughed and turned away again. He looked towards the table laden with breakfast foods, and realized that his stomach was telling him that he had forgotten to eat before he left. The scent of sausages and biscuits and other foods were carried over to him by a breeze, and he watched as Loni helped himself generously. If he was to get something to eat, it would have to be fast. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to have at least one good meal before we start having to ration," Óin said to Maron as he went over to the table. "You can join me, if you'd like," he added.

[Saraphim]

Narin started at the dwarf who offered him sausage. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond, and stuttered:

“Erm, no thanks.”

The other dwarf took this as an opportunity to introduce himself.

"The names Loni Stormlegs. And you are?” he asked in a friendly voice, extending his arm (the one not full of sausages) to Narin.

Narin looked at the outstretched hand carefully, then at the dwarf it belonged to. He reached out and shook it.

“I’m Narin.”

A short silence descended. Narin noticed for the first time that he actually was hungry.

“Well, perhaps I could have a sausage or two, er, Loni, was it?”

Loni smiled and obligingly handed him half of his sausage pile. They munched awkwardly for a moment before Narin found a topic to break the silence.

“So, what is it that you, er, do, Loni? I mean, I’m a smith, myself, and I’d like to kind of get a feel about where everyone is, well, occupation-wise, if you er, get my meaning.” Said Narin lamely.

He waited for Loni to respond and hoped he didn’t seem too socially inept.

[Imladris]

Balin

Balin frowned as he wrapped a piece of bread around a roasted sausage. It was not like Mali to be late. He flicked his eyes over each dwarf’s face and finally came to the conclusion that the female dwarf was indeed not present. Something must have delayed her presence…but what? A death in the family, maybe?

But she soon arrived, panting heavily and hair awry, relieving Balin’s fears. He flashed a smile at her and, addressing the entire group of dwarves, cried, “Up and at it, lads! Pack the dishes and the left over breakfast!”

As the other’s worked, he rummaged in his own pack and brought out a map. The parchment was ragged about the edges and yellow with age, but it was the most detailed map of the area. They would travel Northwest to the pass between Mirkwood and the Grey Mountains… Mirkwood…. the kingdom of the elven King could pose a problem, Balin thought with a dark frown and sullen grimace. He had not forgotten the humiliation of their imprisonment so long ago, but then Bilbo, good old Bilbo, had rescued them and sent them all floating down the river like apples in a barrel. Balin looked at the map again and wondered if they could detour the forest, but why should dwarves make way for a pack of elves, he thought with a thin smile. What could they do to them? The only reason they had been so shamefully captured before was because of those venomous corpulent spiders. Well, they wouldn’t be going near that scum so why should they fear the elves? It would be absolute cowardice to find another way.

His sense of honour having been appeased, Balin glanced around and saw that the dwarves were ready and waiting, their eyes bright and a smile upon their faces. Taking his place at the head of the column, Balin began to sing,

Farewell we call to hearth and hall!
Though wind may blow and rain may fall,
We must away ere break of day
Far over wood and mountain tall.

To Rivendell, where Elves yet dwell
In glades beneath the misty fell,
Through moor and waste we ride in haste,
And whither then we cannot tell.

With foes ahead, behind us dread,
Beneath the sky shall be our bed,
Until at last our toil be passed,
Our journey done, our errand sped.

We must away! We must away!
We ride before the break of day!


They marched quickly over grassy plains, their arms glittering in the sun, every once in a while a dwarvish song upon their lips. They stopped briefly under a copse of trees and enjoyed the rest of the sausage and a bit of cram.

As he traveled, Balin thought of Moria, of the great doors of Hollin, of the mighty halls of Dwarrowdelf. Once his group had become settled and the last remnant of orcs driven away, he would call for more dwarves from Erebor and soon the Khazad-dum would be the great and mighty of the dwarves. And maybe the last dwarven ring of power would be found and give life to their dying race.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Pulling one of the side straps on his pack as a last minute adjustment, Flori then started off, moving with the others in a herd. Behind them, the mountain was golden, lit with the sun almost behind it, and the dwarf took a last look at the mountain before firmly setting his eyes forward. His home it had been, and would always be for the good years he had spent there, but he would not let himself be distracted by frivolous pining.

A song began to rise from the other dwarves and Flori joined in, humming under his breath, the words unfamiliar to him as yet, and his voice not quite recovered from his merriment last night.

Another fell into step beside him, apparently by mistake, as the other looked completely 'away with the elves' as the saying went. Flori recognised him as the dwarf who had arrived late, and indeed he was breathing quite heavily and a look of worry was settled on his face - worry and disappointment. With whom? Flori wondered.

"Good morrow, friend. Why look so glum? Surely my company is not that unbearable, is it?" he joked, grinning, in an attempt to raise some sort of smile from underneath the gloomy expression currently in residence on the other's face. He shifted the weight of his pack slightly and held out a gloved hand. "Flori Bronzeshield, at yer service. What name do you go by?"

[Taralphiel]

Maron nodded and sat next to Oin, enjoying a good meal in silence. He was about to mutter something, when he heard Balin call out:

“Up and at it, lads! Pack the dishes and the left over breakfast!”

He jerked from the table, and almost tripping over his things as he tried to pack them, made his way out the door.


'Blast, a fine exit that was Maron Sandbrace' he grumbled 'But still, I suppose I do have a purpose here, despice my fumbling'

Oin's words had filled him with a measure of confidence in his place on this quest, and he moved forward with greater vigour knowing it. He could now clearly set out to find True Silver, and make his Uncle smile at its sight.

He did not take long to find Oin in the group, and with a half grin said 'Thankye for your words. It gives someone as clumsy as I a great deal of courage!' he chuckled.

[Melisil]

“Well, perhaps I could have a sausage or two, er, Loni, was it?” Narin said as an afterthought once they had shaken hands.

"Of course!" Loni beamed, dumping a large portion of his pile into Narins hands. He felt glad doing this as it made him seem just a slight bit less, 'greedy', as they say.

The two chewed in silence for a while. Loni only half thought of anything to say, untill Narin asked: “So, what is it that you, er, do, Loni? I mean, I’m a smith, myself, and I’d like to kind of get a feel about where everyone is, well, occupation-wise, if you er, get my meaning.”

"Oh yes, of course!" Loni replied. He had to stop and think for a second though, "Well, I don't think I really have a name for the many things I do. I do a bit of smithing, ok too if I say so myself. I don't know though. See I live in my home, I go hunting usually once a week or so.

"Really I just try to keep myself busy. I work with metal, well, I suppose alot, but, not much for selling purposes, if you know. I've tried my hand at carving before, and I quite enjoy it. So yes, I just kind of do this and that if you see?"

Just as he finished this, and before there was time for Narin to make any comment on what Loni had just said, Balin called out, “Up and at it, lads! Pack the dishes and the left over breakfast!”

Loni quickly grabbed his pack and stood up 'proper-like' ready to start. "Ah, here we go Narin. Finally! I'm more then a bit excited about this, if you see. You too?" Loni asked, seeing Narin grab a bag.

[The Perky Ent]

Nali gave Ori's question a great deal of thought. "An Instrument? Not that i know of. Well, I can sing, if that counts? No, of my crafts, i'm not know for my singing." Nali said to Ori as they started walking off on their quest. Nali was suprised to realize that there were so many dwarves walking off twords Moria. They were all talking peacefully between each other, sharing stories and thoughts. Trying to fit in with the crowd, Nali asked, "Ori, do possess any special trait?" Giving it some thought, Ori looked up at the blue sky. Nali, in turn looked up at the sky to see a cloud shaped like a mountain. "Do you see the mountain in the clouds?" Nali asked inquiringly. "A mountain? No, but i do see something. Something more like...a...a snake." said Ori as he smiled at the question. Gazing again, Nali said, "Balin! Look up! Dwarves! Study the clouds! What do you see?" Everyone stopped. There was silence for a long time. Nali thought he would be blammed for Ori's question. After a time, it was none other than Flori who said: "It's a elf!" The statment caused comotion. Narin stated that it clearly was a River. Lîn said it looked like a hearth. This debate became the talk for quite a time.

After a while, the dwarves lost interest. Trying to pass the time, Nali started singing:

A group of dwarves set out at last
but a conflict has arisen all too fast
there is a demon in the sky
that plagues the minds of the dwarves as they walk by
a mass of fluff changing in shape
from trees, hills, rivers and capes
it puzzles the dwarves with great pain
as it is a question that would even puzzle king Dain
but it passed into blue
as it changes its many hues
and appears no more today
but it will come back anyway!

"You never answered my question," Nali said to Ori "Do you have some special talent?"

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

A full breakfast table. Flói was looking on as the other Dwarves scarfed down platters of sausages and eggs on the table. Despite the appealing aroma tickling his nose - and the fact that he hasn't eaten since last night - he wasn't hungry. It's as if cram has been stuffed down his stomach - Which of course is only an illusion that will disappear as soon as the feeling of excitement passes, he thought.

"I'll have to eat." Once his decision was made, he walked toward the table to claim a spot, when -

"Up and at it, lads! Pack the dishes and the left over breakfast!"

"Great." Flói glumly grabbed a sausage and headed for his oliphauntine bag. "I'll probably be dead of hunger before we reach Moria."

[Gird]

Frar noticed that there was a table full of food and breakfast goodies laid out for the Dwarfs' departure. He didn't eat any of it, as he was feeling a bit of a hangover, but he did take the time to look it over and compare the cooking to his own. Whoever made the sausages cooked them too long on one side, and you don't use that kind of salt on eggs! He would've gone on, but he heard Balin giving the command to pack it up and get going. Frar's train of thought completely changed course. He now thought about the journey and the adventure that awaited them, and also things like, did I pack enough pairs of socks?

They marched for some time at an easy pace, for they had no reason to go fast, the weather was great and they were in friendly lands still. Frar stayed to himself for most of the morning march as his stomach was feeling queasy. Normally he would have gone and talked to someone. When the sun was high in the sky, they stopped for not only a rest, but also for some lunch. Frar didn't feel up to cooking at the time, so he let the others make something. Leftover sausage and cram? Next time, I am definitely making the meal. After he force-fed himself the meal, he went over to Balin. "Say Balin, what do you say to next time we're stopping, I cook the meal," he started, "for I've got pots and pans with me, and some seasonings too.

"That sounds good right?"

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

"Good morrow, friend. Why look so glum? Surely my company is not that unbearable, is it?" Malí looked over at the fellow traveler, pointing at herself to make certain that he'd been addressing her. Do I know him? she asked herself, shaking her head for her forgetfulness. With no trouble at all Malí could recite every base equation, every great trade made by the dwarves of Erebor in recent memory, but for her own life she could never remember names or faces. "Flori Bronzeshield, at yer service. What name do you go by?"

Malí hesitated, looking at Flori. Would he recognize the name she gave, if she gave one at all? Probably not. Hopefully not, Malí corrected her own thoughts. It didn't matter anyway. If they were going to be the dwarves to reclaim Moria, Malí figured they all better get used to each other's company. They'd get used to her. They'd eventually learn to live with her stubborness and her constant need to be ahead of schedule and always be correct with calculations of every kind. In turn, Malí would force herself to get used to the others.

"I am called Malí," she informed Flori, taking his hand in a firm handshake. "I am here as the mathematician. I'm here to be a perfectionist. It is what I do as a living, and hopefully it will help in this mission of ours. But what brings you here, on this quest of Balin's? Why have you come along, Flori Bronzeshield?"

"Warriors need no other reason than the promise of another chance to do what they love, for the things they love," Flori explained. "It is something few understand, I suppose. Colors are more distinct, scents are sharper, oxygen is more refreshing, and it is how I know life is meant to be. It makes one crazy and yet strangely sane all in the same moment. That is why I am here."

"I see," Malí mused, smiling softly as she mulled over the words of Flori. The way he felt about his duty, his passion, was how Malí felt about her equations and calculations. Everything made perfect sense even in its abstract essence. If done correctly, everything worked out like a puzzle. Like a game. Malí loved playing the game of wits and intelligence with something that could always be beaten if carried out the right way. Malí looked back at Flori. "I see, and I understand."

[Orual]

Although they had not gone far at all yet, Óin could feel muscles in his legs--some that he had not used in years, it seems--aching and protesting. He was glumly aware that they were threatening to form a full-on rebellion and refuse to go another step, but it wasn't there yet. Any road, the day was still pleasant and Maron's bracing attitude lifted his spirits somewhat.

"Thank ye for your words. It gives someone as clumsy as I a great deal of courage!" Maron said, laughing. There was a spring to his step that reminded Óin of Fili or Kili, and every time he took a breath it seemed like he filled his lungs to bursting.

"That little slip?" Óin scoffed. "That doesn't make you clumsy. All it proves is that you're carrying gear." He slapped Maron's pack. "You might not believe it now, but on the journey we're on, we'll all prove that we're not clumsy. Running for your life tends to make you find your balance quickly."

That comment shot down the optimistic mood with the accuracy of an elf's arrow. Maron's step lost its bouyancy, and suddenly Óin's pack seemed heavier. He sighed deeply. "Bother," he muttered, and reluctantly slung an arm over Maron's shoulders. "It'll be fine," he said, hoping that he sounded confident. "Balin knows what he's doing..."

[Saraphim]

Narin heaved his pack and one of the group food packs onto his shoulders. He heard Loni say something behind him:

"Ah, here we go Narin. Finally! I'm more then a bit excited about this, if you see. You too?"

Narin turned around and smiled at Loni.

"Oh, yes, I don't think I've been more excited about anything since I left the Iron Hills. I only wish we didn't have to take such a long way around Mirkwood."

As they chatted and began walking, one of the others pointed out some clouds in the sky. The entire company stopped and looked at the stange formation. Narin heard someone say that it resembled a snake.

"What an ill omen." He snorted, "It looks like a river to me." Loni smiled and ate another sausage.

[Melisil]

As they walked, Narin replied, "Oh, yes, I don't think I've been more excited about anything since I left the Iron Hills. I only wish we didn't have to take such a long way around Mirkwood."

"Me too!" Loni agreed, "It is troublesome though, isn't it? Bother Elves."

They walked for a while more before someone stopped the group, pointing out some strange looking cloud formation. "Snake." said one Dwarf, "It's an Elf." said another, and, "a hearth!". Narin said to the mention of a snake, "What an ill omen. It looks like a river to me."

Loni shook his head, Superstitious rot. Although he belived in some bad omans, clouds were not bad news bringers. "The only bad things they bring is rain- and that's good in it's way!" Loni said to himself.

The rest of the group gradually let seeing the clouds go as well. At this Loni smiled secretly to himself, Glad they listened to me. He thought proudly to himself. The next while of walking was also fairly uneventful, so, Loni being who he was, called out to Nali: "Sing us another song, won't you lad?"

"Aye." answered Nali, and began,

"A group of dwarves set out at last
but a conflict has arisen all too fast
there is a demon in the sky
that plagues the minds of the dwarves as they walk by
a mass of fluff changing in shape
from trees, hills, rivers and capes
it puzzles the dwarves with great pain
as it is a question that would even puzzle king Dain
but it passed into blue
as it changes its many hues
and appears no more today
but it will come back anyway!"

Loni shook his head again at the words of the song, but liked the tune nonetheless.

[Taralphiel]

Maron heard Oin say to him: "That little slip? That doesn't make you clumsy. All it proves is that you're carrying gear. You might not believe it now, but on the journey we're on, we'll all prove that we're not clumsy. Running for your life tends to make you find your balance quickly."

Maron was taken aback by this. He had not though to hard on ever really having his life in so much danger as to run in a retreat. It seemed to let the air out of his step.

Oin must have sensed this slight change, for he quickly grumbled "It'll be fine, Balin knows what he's doing..."

Maron nodded in agreement "Aye, he is very skilled. Im sure he will not lead us astray!" He fiddled with teh straps on his pack and kept moving forward before saying:

"Truth be told, not too many of my family were great adventurers! My Uncle for one has been at the smithy all of his life! He never dreamed of taking a journey to see the Great Halls! I do look forward to making my family known for grand expeditions! It will be a wonderful thing to look forward to...." he trailed off...

[Amanaduial the archer]

Flori glanced at Mali and nodded, smiling slightly, and they continued walking in a sort of companionable silence. The other dwarves chattered, argued (a most well thought-of dwarven past-time), or simply walked in silence, occasional bursts of song and impromptu poetry joining the group every so often.

Presently, a debate about a certain cloud formation broke out, and certain theories floated to Flori's ears. "It's a snake!"
"No, a hearth!"
"Don't be daft, any fool can see it is quite clearly a river!"
"A river? How is it a river? It is quite clearly an elf - see, there are the eyes, and the side of the face, the neck - why, you can even see the pointed ears!"
"Since when did you become an expert on elves? And when did you ever see an elf with a nose that blobby, or for that matter, one that can fly, hmm?!"

Flori grinned to himself, exchanging a glance with Mali before craning his own neck back to squint up at the 'elf'. Personally he couldn't see it but...he snapped his fingers as he realised what had been praying on his mind, startling Mali who looked at him, puzzled.

"Excuse me one moment - yonder cloud made me remember something." Mali nodded and Flori manoevured himself through the singing, talking, sausage-eating dwarves until he had reached Balin himself, striding away at the head of the group and humming to himself cheerily. As he saw Flori he beamed widely. "Ah, doesn't it do you good, Flori, to be on the path to reclaim at last what is rightfully ours?"

Flori smiled briefly, walking fast to keep up with his eager friend's robust stride. "It does, Balin, it does - but...the path is what I came to talk to you about. It won't be long until we reach the borders of the elven forest. We will be going around it, will we not?"

Balin's smile broadened even wider and he seemed to think about something before nodding to himself. "Go around it, Flori?"

Warning bells started to ring in the back of Flori's mind as he recognised his Balin's mood and noted the worrying glint in his friend's eye. They hadn't really worked out the route properly beforehand - Balin had always waved away their concerns, declaring he had it all planned out. "Aye, Balin - it would be wiser to go around it, surely-"

"And why is that, friend?"

Balin's voice was still cheery but it had a slightly dangerous edge to it. Flori hesitated, then decided he had to bring the issue up - surely Balin had noticed... "Balin, you do remember your last visit to the forest, don't you?" he said gently. Balin rounded on him immediately.

"My imprisonment, you mean? At the hands of those filthy elves?" Flori didn't say anything and Balin kept on. "Oh, Flori - that was the fault of those vile spiders, nothing more, and we won't be going near them now, will we? My young friend, surely you are not afraid of the elves? Why, it would be positive cowardice to go around Mirkwood."

"I fear it would be provoking trouble-"

"Why?" Balin snapped, his jovial tone vanishing, and several of the dwarves looked up. "What have we to fear from them, hmm?"

[Imladris]

Ori

Ori stared at the cloud in question and stroked his beard thoughtfully. “It looks like a joker’s cap crowned on some hoary head,” he said softly. He smiled when he heard Nali break into a little, singing of a dark cloud that haunted their steps in a playful way. Still…he glanced up at the cloud and chuckled. ‘Twas folly to think the cloud could create some ill for their journey – the only trouble they would likely meet at this time would an elf or two…

“So, Ori,” said Nali with a grin, “you never did answer my question.” He looked at him expectantly, his eyes bright and shining.

Question – what question? Ori though, his mind racing, brows meeting in a perplexed frown. With a regretful sigh, he said, “You must forgive an old dwarf, Nali, for not remembering. What was it?”

“If you had any special traits,” the dwarf replied, gazing into the sky. “See there,” he whispered pointing, “there is a dragon, his wings spread, flying towards us from a billowy mist!”

A smile grew on Ori’s face as he saw it for a vanishing instant, but then his lips drooped and forehead wrinkled a little bit. “I don’t know,” he said, attempting to answer the younger dwarf’s question. “I know much of dwarf lore and song,” he said with a shrug. “I can play a flute whose tone reminds one of loss and sorrow. It is elvish make,” he said with a wink. “From a Mirkwood elf at that,” he added.

Balin

"I fear it would be provoking trouble-" Flori said cautiously, his eyes darting side to side.

"Why?" Balin snapped, his jovial tone vanishing, and several of the dwarves looked up. "What have we to fear from them, hmm?"

“You know as well as I, Balin, that no friendship exists between the elves and the dwarves,” Flori retorted, his kind eyes flashing. “We should go around, so as not to create any more trouble than is necessary. Besides, we should gather our strength for Moria, not for minor inconveniences on the road.”

“It is a matter of principal, Flori,” Balin replied in a tight condescending tone. Pacing back and forth and gesturing wildly with his arms, he cried out fiercely, “I am not going to avoid the elves like a fat hobbit who wishes to avoid a grand adventure. Not only did they humiliate Thorin,” -- a shudder, a frown, a fluttering of the eyes – “but they had the gall to march to the Lonely Mountain when they heard news of Smaug’s death for treasure that they had not earned.” A dark scowl settled on his wrinkled face and he said, lowly, “It would be against our honour not to go.”

“We will gain honour enough,” Flori protested, “if we succeed in resettling Moria. Is that not enough?” he asked looking pleadingly into Balin’s eyes.

“Yes, but this matter with the elves will be like a smudge upon a parchment,” Balin said with a sigh. He bowed his head, his eyes staring at the ground. “We will not go purposely out of our way to annoy them if that’s any consolation, my dear Flori,” he said with a mischievous wink. "We will just go down the path and if the Elvenking takes offense, there is naught we can do about it."

[Will Witfoot]

Alrik, overhearing Balin's words stepped up to the front of the group. His breath came out easy and his muscles felt only a little strain from the walking. Good, he thought. He had not entirely lost his strength.
"Theres naught we can do about that then, lord, except bash some heads." Alrik had never much liked elves. Their seemingly natural arrogance and haughtiness allways got him on edge, and even the memory of the wood elves fighting alongside dwarfenkind in the Battle of the Five Armies in no way disspelled his prejudice. "But in a way I agree with ye, lad." He nodded to Flori. "Whats the sense in inviting trouble? I say we could well go through the forest, we should just be carefull."

The younger dwarf did'nt seem to take offense at Alrik reffering to him as 'lad', which was only proper. As a race who gave great respect for age it was customary for elderly dwarfs to reffer to their youngers in such manner.
He took out a small keg of ale he had stored safelly in his backbag and popped open the cork. The golden brew flowed down his throat, sweeter than the crystal water of a mountain stream. Seeing Balin's dark look, Alrik passed it over to him.

"Care for some, lord?".

[The Perky Ent]

"Well now, that's interesting!" Nali said, responding to Ori. Nali could still see Erebor. The Lonely Mountain. Nali pondered if he'd ever see it again. He though of the possibilities. Surly he would visit. But...mabey he would stay in Moria and rule. Nali was in such deep consideration that he stoped while the group kept on at a steady pace twords Mirkwood. "Nali?" Ori said as he realised that he had strayed from the group. Turning around, Balin starred perplexed at Nali and said in a harsh tone, "Come now Nali, we aren't stopping now...are we?" Nali seemed to be in a trance, as he didn't respond to either Ori or Balin. Nali's eyes were closed. He seemed to be asleep. "Why does he sleep? Can he see we're trying to reclaim a lost empire here? Does this adventure mean nothing to him?" said one random Dwarf.

Time passed. After a while, Ori gave Nali a soft wack on his helmet. The rest of the group had moved on and left Nali. "Nali! Wake up! Come now!" Ori said, as Nali finally arose. "Wha? Moria has colappsed? Erebor has crashed into the Earth? Where is everybody...oh! Sorry! I dosed off!" Nali said shaking. "Don't worry friend! I can tell your worring about our journey. Do not fear. No harm will come to us!" Ori said. "Now come, or we might never see Balin again!"

Sprinting through the grass, Nali and Ori catched up to the dwarves and said in a apoligetic voice, "We're sorry! We..." There was silence. They didn't know what to say. Being the person he is, Nali said in a convincing voice, "We saw a pair of Orcs!" "Orcs?" said a dwarf named Flori. "Yes...Orcs" said Ori. "There were two orcs on the horizon...but...um...under further inspection, we found they were already dead." After a breif pause, the dwarves continued they walking. In a whisper, Ori said, "Nali...you...owe...me!" "I know i know!" Nali said as he looked back at the mountain. It looked like nothing but a small triange. Taking a deep breath, Nali started singing:

A tiny dot on a map it may seam,
but this place has a smile, a grin with a gleam,
Erebor it is called bu dwarves
and it has no coasts with water and wharves
it towers all who linger under it
and looking upon it will give any dwarf a hit
because it is marvelous in its own special way
and it is here, forever to stay.

After a while, Nali overheard Balin discussing something about going through Mirkwood. Intruding in the conversation, Nali said, "Well, if your asking my opinion..." "But we're not, dreamer!" said Flori. "Hold on Flori, let this dwarf speak. we all have our faults!" said Balin. "Well, if you ask my opinionm, i say we go through Mirkwood! I have long awaited to gaze upon the presence of the elves. It would give me much joy! Although they have a temper, it would be harmless to go through Mirkwood. We can exit before we get in range of those blasted spiders!" said Nali. Giving a grin, Balin said, "Well now, I'll surely take that into consideration!"

[Orual]

Óin glanced over at the debate going on around him. He glanced at Maron darkly, sighing and rolling his eyes at the sky, where he noticed a cloud that looked a little bit like his mother. He shrugged and turned to Balin and Flori, and the small crowd gathered around them.

"If you ask me--which I know none of you did, but I don't care--we'll avoid Mirkwood as much as we can," he said loudly. Most of the dwarves turned to look at him. He crossed his arms over his chest and continued. "Balin, the last time we went through Mirkwood, it did us no good and cost us a lot of time. You can ramble on about honor and appearances, but what I think most of us are worried about is mithril. Who will know that we didn't pass through Mirkwood when we had the chance? A better question yet, who will care? Alrik over there has the right idea. Don't ask for trouble and it'll still come to you, but perhaps in smaller quantities than otherwise."

A couple of the dwarves turned to each other, agreeing with him or talking about the grumpy old spoilsport who was trying to ruin the adventure, he could not tell. And he did not care. "We'll do well enough to keep our skin intact on the safe route to Moria, if there's such a thing. Why waste time and energy going through Mirkwood? What's in Mirkwood? Elves and spiders, that's what. Trouble and danger. If you're taking a vote, Balin, my vote's no, and if you're taking the advice of old friends I'd have you looking at the past as a learning experience instead of a grudge. The elves were mean to us. We're not children anymore, Balin. Is it worth risking injury and lost time and perhaps worse to go and say 'I got through your forest, so there, you pompous, pointy-eared mischief-makers'? I think not." He nodded sagely and fell silent.

[Saraphim]

Narin was chatting casually with Loni and wishing he had stretched his legs a bit more before the journey, when the heated argument at the head of the group caought his attention, and he decided to give his opinion.

"Go through Mirkwood? I was under the impression that we would be going around. But if we can cut our little expidition nearly in half by taking the shortest road, why not? I'm aware of the elves and how much they hate anyone to walk on thier precious road, but we aren't marching into battle against them, we are merely passing through. I fail to understand why we would upset them."

[Carlas]

The large room was filled with shouting and laughing orcs, all coming back from their posts for some rest and food. The room was large both in depth and height, but this was almost impossible to tell with the weak light the few flickering torches emitted. The walls were crumbling in places, and there were many dark stains on the old stone where fights had broken out. Most of the orcs sat at the many tables scattered randomly throughout the dim room, laughing and shouting as they stuffed their faces with meat and ale, whilst a few orcs leaned against the hard, stone walls watching the others. Nazklash was one of these orcs.

He watched the other orcs silently from a dark corner away from any torches, as he thought about everything that had happened over the last couple of days. Uzgash, Lugnush and he had sat in the deep tunnel for a long time, planning how the revolt would begin, and how everything would work. Nazklash had listened carefully, and now understood everything that had to be done so that the Chief could finally be overthrown. His only problem was Lugnush. Nazklash knew that Lugnush wanted to be the captain, but Nazklash was much better for the job, and more deserving, why else would Uzgash have gone to him? But Lugnush, he knew, was strong and could easily kill Nazklash if he got his hands on him, so he would have to be careful and keep his eyes on the treacherous orc.

Suddenly there was a loud shout, and Nazklash looked up just in time to see two orcs wrestling on the floor. They were both quite large orcs, and they swung madly at eachother as the rolled across the floor. One suddenly kicked the other off him and stood up quickly before picking the other who was still recovering and throwing him hard into the gray stone wall. The sound of the orc smacking the wall reverberated through the room, and a large group of orcs came to stand around the fighters, as they started cheering for the one to finish the other off. The orc only spat at the other on the ground and went back to where he had been sitting, deciding he could always finish him off later.

Nazklash looked away from the great form of the orc who was now starting to recover from the fight, and saw a tall, lean orc come in through the wide doors at the end of the room. Nazklash smiled as he recognized the orc Gorzag, and started to walk purposely towards him. It was time for the revolt to begin.

Gorzag nodded in greeting to Nazklash as he finally reached the tall form. He had to recline his head to look at Gorzags face, which was covered in scars and had a long gash running down his left cheek. Nazklash knew that Gorzag could spread news about anything or anyone faster than any other orc in Moria, and could make sure that those who weren’t supposed to hear, didn’t. He had become known for it by all except those in high ranks, and was known as the messenger of Moria. But his ‘services’ as he called them, weren’t normally free.

“I ‘ave a job for ya.” Nazklash said, as he and Gorzag walked over to a corner where there were less orcs. Gorzag looked down at him as they reached the corner. “And what’s the pay?” He asked curiously.

Nazklash smiled. “Jus’ listen to me. No one likes how the Chief’s been running this place lately, and there’s been lots o’ talk about a revolt.” Gorzag leaned in closer, so he wouldn’t miss anything Nazklash said. “ An’ the talks true. But we need to get all of ‘em worthless lugs together if we even ‘ope to defeat the Chief.” Nazklash looked into the messenger’s dark eyes, which were now filled with surprise.

“Ya mean…your going to lead the revolt?” Gorzag stuttered. “Why shouldn’ I?” Nazklash said indignantly. “The rest of you filth are too scared to even do anythin’. I’m the only one that ‘as the guts to do somethin’ about the Chief. Now, I need to get all of ‘em scums together tomorrow so that we can overthrow the Chief. You better ‘ave everyone ‘cept the Chief and his officers down in the deep ‘all or I’ll have your ‘ead!”

Gorzag scowled down at Nazklash as he asked once again. “And what do I get in return?” Nazklash stood as straight as his small back would allow and answered after a pause of thought. “When we finally kill the Chief, I’ll give you an ‘igher rank, maybe ya could be my personal messenger, you’d be paid better then what these lugs can give ya.”

Gorzag straightened again and paused as he thought about his options. Nazklash waited silently as Gorzag cracked each knuckle one by one as he thought. Nazklash looked around him, becoming a little impatient and watched the other orcs as they went about their business, completely oblivious to the two orcs. Finally, Gorzag bent down a little so that Nazklash could hear him clearly. “Fine, I’ll do it. But if something happens, you better find some way to pay me back, cause I know plenty o’ orcs that could grind you into the ground.” And at that, he walked away into the crowd of orcs.

Nazklash grinned and left the large room.

[Imladris]

With a grateful nod Balin took the proffered ale from Alrik (may his beard ever grow longer), and took a sip. Ale had such a wonderful effect, like water upon a fevered head. He wiped his beard with his sleeve and heaved a sigh. “I am thankful for your well meaning advice,” he said pleasantly, brown eyes twinkling. “However, this has nothing to do with grudges, but with honour . You may ask, as Oin so grumpily, though sagely, did, about who would know if we went through or not? I say to them that we would know and I could not live with myself if I had shirked from a matter of honour.”

He paused, looking at Flori and Oin, who were both shaking their head dubiously, Oin muttering something. “In a way, it’s very much like the reason we returned Beorn’s horses,” he said, a small smile about his lips, his eyes far away. “It would certainly make our journey easier, but it would not have been honorable to have kept the horses.”

Ori laughed and said, “You forget, dear Balin, that if we had kept the horses Beorn would have had our skin beside the warg’s and goblin’s heads!”

“Ori lad,” said Balin with a shake of the head and a broad smile, “don’t go making me example worthless!” He wagged his finger at his fellow dwarf playfully, but then said, “It’s not as if I’ll knock on the elven-king’s doors and tell him, like a wee child, that you bound us and cast us in a dark prison so long ago and now you have to deal with us in all our strength. That would indeed be the ultimate of follies. No. All we will do is travel on the path through Mirkwood and that is all. Moria calls, and I do not feel like traveling around such a broad stretch of wood.”

As the dwarves dispersed, murmuring to each other, Balin took Flori and Ori aside and asked, “Do you have any problems with my plan?”