Joined: Thu Sep 05, 2013 1:15 am
Location: Melbourne, Australia
Sili and Norin, heroes among the Dwarves, pass from the light under the West Gate and into the Halls of their Mighty Forefathers -- perhaps they are the first of the Dwarves to tread here since Balin's ill-fated foray almost three hundred years gone?
Behind them come the light footfalls of Lmluin of East Lorien and Elindir the Half-Elven of Rivendell. 'Tis a strange party indeed, but these Halls have witnessed many strange things.
Within, Moria is all quiet. And dark.
The sunlight that spills over the valley beyond Hollin Gate seems aught but a subdued glow, and any sound of the outside world is sharply attenuated. The crunching of dust and rubble beneath the Dwarfs' boots is the loudest sound they hear, any of them.
Ahead of them, a great broad stair rises up, up and up into the greater dark. The stair is littered with rubble and dust, and no few bodies of the long fallen can be spied upon the road ahead. To be thankful, there is no movement nor sound to be seen or heard in the darkness.
"Durin's Way," whispers Norin reverently in Khuzdul.
Hirelings: Georges; torch[/f]