((Moria))

To Rûndis, my Moonlight,

I do not know where to start. Yesterday we took the hardest blow yet, and it was all my fault.

I should have known our mission was doomed long ago. Every signal was right there from the start… The bandits who followed us, the poisoner who attacked me in Rivendell, the map being stolen… Perhaps we should have listened to the Elves, after all.

I suppose I should start from the beginning.

To Rûndis, my Moonlight,

I am sorry for not writing to you sooner. These last few weeks I have barely had enough time to rest, and most of that time has been spent trying to keep Kharsi from eating all our supplies. So, here is a quick update.

Day 103 of exile

Khazad dûm! I wasn't taught many words in Khuzdul. My father used to say that Dourhands have no use for it. But my grandfather taught me the little I know of the secret language of Dwarves. The direct translation would be ”The Hall of Dwarves” but ”Dwarrowdelf” is the common name. My grandpa also told me what tales he knew of the place.

 The bridge over the great chasm of the First Hall the pair found occupied by a troll who squatted lumpily in the middle of the narrow span, its bulk covered in pieces of mismatched and ill fitting armor. Sfeithi scratched his head in disbelief as they observed the creature from the relative safety of one of the mighty stone pillars wrought to resemble the boles of trees.

 Groping through the inky black suffocating, smothering void. Following a tiny flickering star, a writhing rose of illumination casting a milky glow on the way ahead, the heaps of crumbled masonry, sudden yawning chasms on one side or the other – or both- of the path ahead. Once, long ago, the way had been lit by a cleverly placed system of mirrors, many of which were still in place. For even orcs cannot see in utter cave darkness.

How long has it been? How long was this dark of night filled with violence, with fire and ash and stone, stone, stone? How many times have I tried to sleep watching a granite ceiling, knowing that there is no starlit sky to be seen for miles on end. How many times have I steeled myself, feeling the weight of the ancient stones pressing down as I walk the dark corridors with yet another evil foe waiting around yet another corner?