7 Fourth Age: Rescue & Recover [MP]

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7 Fourth Age: Rescue & Recover [MP]; [ Invite ]
Topic Started: 29 Sep 2008, 04:16 PM (485 Views)
Deleted User	5 Nov 2008, 04:46 PM Post #11
Deleted User	The crevasse leading into the pit of Moria was littered with fragments of gray stone, as if something larger than the opening had trundled through many times. Carefully, and quietly as any man could be, Aragorn slipped into the pitch blackness. The chasm of Moria swallowed the sun whole. Step by step, the King descended the stairs. His ears discerned the cacophony of Orcs echoing across the vast canyon up ahead. At the base of the steps, he paused. The Bridge of Khazad-dum was gone. All that waited ahead was the gaping hole where Gandalf had fallen into Shadow with the Balrog. He knew no other route by memory. His mortal eyes could find no way across, yet there must be some path or the Orcs could not use this entrance so readily. He would trust to a greater vision. “Legolas,” he breathed, barely making a sound at all, “Do you see another way around?”
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Deleted User	11 Nov 2008, 01:48 AM Post #12
Deleted User	When Aragorn made the announcement that Haeleana and Elladan were to reamain behind this time, Legolas turned to and raised his hand, palm open, in a fairwell. "When last I was here, wargs and wolves prowled these hills. Be on your guard. Navaer!" He said, and then in a flash his lithe body bounded over the rocky and uneven surface with ease, as though he were running across a flat plain. While he moved with speed, Legolas had been in no great hurry to enter the Mines of Moria for a second time. When he had travelled here with the Fellowship, he had been against going into the Mines, siding with Aragorn over the decision to tackle Caradhras rather than going into the dark, and evil places of the world. It had only been when they were left with no option that he had agreed to such an idea. Quickly, Aragorn's skilled eyes and hands found a narrow crevice into the darkness and they slipped inside without a sound. The air inside was dank and close, and its suffocating blackness pressed around them, but Legolas could smell the stench of Orcs and Goblins that still prowled the Mines. He could hear them as well. He saw the gaping abyss that had swallowed Mithrandir whole, and he felt an echo of the sadness and loss that he had experienced when he had believed him to have perished. But it was Aragorn who shook the dark memories from his mind. “Legolas, do you see another way around?”* Careful not to make a sound, the Elf said nothing and instead lowered himself carefully down the ledge that they had positioned themselves on and peered into the great gloom. There was nothing left of the bridge, but the creatures ahead of them must have had some way of getting across. Indeed Celarwen's kidnappers must have had done so not long ago. While his eyes were naturally drawn to the loss of the bridge of Khazad-dum, he looked instead to the outer edges, and at last he saw it. Far into the east, the outline of what appeared to be a thin, and crudely made rope bridge. "We must go east," he breathed to Aragorn as he made his way back up. "There is a small bridge that way." Since his eyes were keener, Legolas led the way as he was better at finding the path when there was little light to be had. After arduously picking their way through the uneven ground, they came within sight of the small rope bridge so that even Aragorn would be able to see it. The bridge was guarded by two Uruk-hai; clear evidence that the kidnapper was behind their placement there. Silence was key, and if Legolas shot one, the other would cry out and raise the alarm. In an even more quite tone, he whispered again to Aragorn, "There are two Uruks, we need to kill them quickly and silently. I can shoot one, but there are no guarantees that I will be able to shoot another arrow before the second one raises the alarm." *Fairwell
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Deleted User	13 Nov 2008, 02:22 PM Post #13
Deleted User	Aragorn followed Legolas around to the east. In the pitch black of Moria, the man could see nothing but the faint traces of his friend’s outline. Still, he moved silently as any human could using his other senses. Sight deprived, his hearing increased exponentially. The smallest shuffle seemed to rebound across the rocks. His fingertips grazed the wet, slimy rock to the right. It seemed that the shadows receded as they moved further east, almost as if there was a light ahead in the darkness, though Aragorn could detect no flame. Gradually, the outline of a crude bridge, no more than a few ropes across the chasm, emerged from the gloom. He saw the shapes of the Uruk-hai move, but their dark complexion and garments kept them shielded well inside Moria. “I see them,” Aragorn replied. “I will take the one on the left. Aim true, mellon-nin. We have only one chance.” Aragorn reached to his side and took the hilt of the Elven hunting knife gifted to him in Lothlorien. When he pulled the blade from its sheath, it sang rebelliously. In the caverns of Moria, it sounded like a choir announcing their presence. The Uruk-hai stood to attention immediately, their own hands clutching crude swords. The knife flew from Aragorn’s hand and connected with the Uruk-hai. In the darkness, Aragorn had not dared aim for the head, lest his sight faltered even the slightest and he missed. The wound to the chest had done its work, however. The Uruk was silent. Translation: mellon-nin = my friend
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Deleted User	3 Dec 2008, 03:19 AM Post #14
Deleted User	Legolas's bow of the Galadhrim twanged like a bow string, and the arrow whined as it flew before finding rest in the exposed throat of the Uruk, denying him the opportunity to announce the presence of the two invaders of Moria. The creature toppled over the edge of the precipice as Aragorn's blade struck the second one with marvelous accuracy, and the Uruk could only let out a few strangled gurgles as his own blood flooded into his lungs to drown him. Keeping a sharp look-out, lest any patrols should come by, Legolas continued the descent to the crude bridge below them, maintaining the same fleet-footedness that had led them to the ledge. Looking this way and that as he approached the bridge, the Elf stopped by the remaining body of the Orc that Aragorn had so efficiently killed. He stooped over it and pulled out the precious knife that Aragorn had received from the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien, wiping it before handing it back to his friend. And then, with his foot, he pushed the body off same precipice to join his kin there at the bottom. "The less sign we leave of ourselves, the better," he breathed softly. He took then to examining the bridge that they would inevitably have to cross. It was, as he had seen from afar, roughly made - but it would support them. They would have to cross single file for the bridge was only a few pieces of rope with some wood hastily strewn across it. It was meant to be taken up and taken down with speed, should the need arise, and this worried Legolas's mind. He scanned the area ahead, but it was mostly shrouded in a darkness that his keen eyes could not pierce with any success. "I cannot tell if there are enemies ahead," He said. "But, there is no other way across." Legolas placed a foot on the first plank of wood, and started to cross the great, yawning chasm of Khazad-dum. For Elves, memory was much like a living thing that was blended with the present time, and indeed when he looked down to the emptiness beneath his feet, he could still see Gandalf falling with the Balrog of Morgoth into the deep, everlasting shadows of Moria. Truly, Legolas did not know what other fell creatures that he and Aragorn might come upon now that the Balrog was dead and gone. Gandalf had said that there were many other strange and terrible things that lurked in the deep places of the world. But he pressed on, hearing and seeing within his mind, Gimli's tales of his love for places underneath the surface of the world.
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Deleted User	15 Dec 2008, 02:19 PM Post #15
Deleted User	Crossing the bridge was a daunting prospect. For an Elf, it was dangerous; for a human, perilous. Aragorn waited until Legolas was halfway over before grabbing hold of the tattered rope and stepping out onto the first plank of semi-rotten wood. He would have rather waited until his friend was over the chasm, but in the perpetual twilight inside of Moria it was too easy to become separated. The bridge creaked and groaned its protest of Aragorn’s weight, but held tenuously. The crossing was meant to support Uruk-hai, even the smallest of which was heavier than him. “My worry now,” Aragorn whispered, “is will it hold on our way out with Lady Celarwen?” Even as he said it, he knew the greater challenge was to find the abducted Lady. The dwarves had built no greater city than Khazad-dum. Hundreds, or perhaps thousands, of living quarters, dining halls, forges, workshops, and many other rooms besides had been corrupted into Orc dens. Who could tell which might hold Celarwen? Aragorn’s body froze as he felt the group moving along the ledge. He could not see or hear them, but their thunderous march sent vibrations shivering through the ground. “Uruk-hai. Ten or twelve.” As they neared, they turned sharply north. Aragorn could see the darker shadow of a tunnel leading higher into Moria. Thankful for the still air not to spread their scent, he waited motionlessly for them to pass on. He and Legolas could not kill twelve and remain hidden. He caught a snatch of their conversation echoed off the rock as they climbed upwards. Tark -- their word in the Black Speech for a Gondorian. Wherever they were headed, Aragorn was sure that was where Celarwen would be. He motioned silently to Legolas to follow the Uruk-hai and began his own climb up the steep and never-ending stairs of Moria. As they followed, Aragorn counted the time by footsteps, as he had done in the wild. Without the sun and stars as a guide, the method was imprecise, but he knew, nevertheless, that they had stalked the Uruk-hai for no less than three hours. The creatures were more subdued than Aragorn had ever seen them. There was not a hint of dispute between them, nor any martial boasting. When they spoke, it was in short bursts of Black Speech, all of which any reasonably learned person could understand. Something was amiss. Aragorn skipped a step as the Uruk-hai reached the top of another flight of stairs and turned to the left. As he halted behind an outcropping of rock, his keen ears detected an identical pause in the Uruk-hai’s march. In that moment, sorrowful realization seeped into Aragorn’s every fiber. Lady Celarwen was not here, and likely never had been. This was a trap set for the rescue party, and unless he was much mistaken, the trigger was about to be sprung. Aragorn turned to glance at Legolas, wanting to know if his friend had reached the same conclusion.
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Deleted User	2 Jan 2009, 10:32 PM Post #16
Deleted User	The rope bridge held and Legolas stepped lightly on to the other side of the chasm without a sound. He could hear Aragorn close behind him and moving over the make-shift bridge more slowly and with greater caution than he had done - and with good reason, the bridge had been hastily made, for the lives of the Orcs were not highly valued, and the fall was long and deep. "My worry now, is will it hold on our way out with Lady Celarwen?” Legolas's generous mouth spread into a grin that was invisible in the grim dark of Moria, "We will just have to cross that bridge when we come to it, my friend," He replied. He truly meant what he said, there was nothing they could do about that problem until they had Lady Celarwen safely in hand. Though he would readily admit that it might be a problem, Legolas was not one to dwell tirelessly on worries and let them pile up in his mind. He was focused on the moment and lived in the now. And at that very moment an Uruk patrol suddenly passed dangerously close, so close in fact that Legolas had drawn his knife, thinking that they should be discovered for certain. But they were not, and a confused expression passed over his fair features. He turned to Aragorn. “Uruk-hai. Ten or twelve.” Legolas nodded, but he was unsure if Aragorn could see that, but nevertheless when the ranger turned to trail the Uruk's, Legolas followed his lead, and when he heard them utter the word "Tark" for Gondorian, his heart leapt, for they were certainly headed for their own quarry, Celarwen. He and Aragorn had been fortunate indeed. But, as they followed them deeper and deeper into Moria's labyrinth, a nagging worry crept into his mind. Something seemed wrong, but he could not place precisely where the worry was coming from. As his mind groped for the answer, he continued to follow Aragorn noiselessly, though he knew that even his light footfall rebelliously echoed throughout the chambers that they passed through, he could only hope that the noise was being drowned out by the loud marching of the Uruks in front of them. They were fortunate indeed. Suddenly his mind made the connection that he had been searching for. Fortunate, so fortunate...too fortunate. It was a trap, they were walking straight into the waiting, outstretched arms of the enemy. He stopped dead in his tracks as did Aragorn and they both exchanged the same look of horror in the gloom. The Uruks stopped too. And Legolas slowly backed away from the creatures that they had been stalking. Shouts and whoops erupted from the party, a thing that was more in line with what he knew of the behaviour of Orcs. "We must flee!" He said, a rising urgency in his hushed voice. But as he turned to do so a terrible scream not made by any Uruk rent the air around them. In that moment Legolas knew what had occurred, he and Aragorn were being led somewhere to the lair of this creature to be slaughtered. The scream pierced his ears again, this time closer. The laughter and jeers from the Uruks subsided as they fled. Legolas drew an arrow and aimed at where the terrible sound was coming from. The ground trembled in time with the creature's movements, and the Elf knew that what was coming for them was large, too large to be taken down by a single arrow. As it came into sight, courtesy of a torch that one of the Uruks had left behind, revulsion temporarily overwhelmed him. The towering beast stood like a man, but it's arms hung too far down so that its razor sharp claws dragged over the ground. Its stooped form held a head that seemed sunken into its muscular body and a lipless mouth that dominated its face held teeth that were each the size of the knives that hung on his sides. He saw that its eyes were milky white with no visible pupils. It could not see them, but it could surely smell them and hear them by the way it strode toward them. He let loose an arrow that struck the creature in the shoulder causing it to howl with rage. It had little effect other than to further enrage the beast, as he had originally thought. "Our only hope now is to get to the bridge!" He said to Aragorn as he sprung away to flee the creature behind them, moving as quickly as he could in the blackness.
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Deleted User	5 Jan 2009, 05:37 PM Post #17
Deleted User	The hideous creature in the depths of Moria was unlike any Aragorn had seen before. The words of Gandalf, of older and fouler things, sprang to mind. Sword in hand, he was prepared to defend himself, but Legolas was right. Their only hope now was to escape unharmed. With Lady Celarwen someplace else, there was no reason to tarry in Moria. The King followed his Elven friend back the way they had come. The creature’s angry bellows, from being enslaved by Orcs and deprived of prey, echoed through the narrow paths behind them. Aragorn redoubled his speed, for the moment not concerned with the resounding thud of his footsteps. “Our flight will be noticed when the creature quiets again. Let us cover as much ground as we can before then.” Without stealthily stalking Uruk-hai, the journey back to the rope bridge took considerably less time. It was a long path for all its twists and turns, though going down the stairs took less effort than the constant climb to the beasts’ lair. Aragorn burst from the long tunnel into the expansive cavern where the Bridge of Khazad-dum had once stood. The cries of the beast had been replaced by a heavy, rhythmic beat that Aragorn would never forget. He, Legolas, and Gimli had followed it across the plains of Rohan in search of Merry and Pippin. They had stood on the Deeping Wall while it approached from Isengard. A large force of Uruk-hai were behind them and gaining quickly. “You cross first, Legolas,” Aragorn said, sprinting for the rope structure. “It may not take my weight again.” Across the chasm, he lost sight of Legolas again, though he had lived with Elves long enough to guess at how much time his friend would need to safely reach the other side. Though the bridge swayed and sagged, it held until he reached the other side. Unsheathing the hunting knife given to him by Celeborn, he slashed through the ropes. Through the gloom, Aragorn could see the lighter outline of the exit. Elladan would be waiting there with the horses. One last flight of stairs and a short run through the valley was all that stood between them and freedom.
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Deleted User	13 Jan 2009, 10:25 PM Post #18
Deleted User	Where he had once tread slowly and methodically across the flimsy rope bridge, Legolas now flew like a bird across the yawning gap of Khazad-dum. If it was a choice between being pierced by an Uruk-hai's blade, being a hideous monster's next meal, or falling into the chasm, he chose the chasm as the most pleasing way to die, given the circumstances. Fortunately, he and Aragorn were not weighted down by heavy armour like the Uruks and they soon outpaced the Uruks behind them, only the harsh, guttural roars of the creature raced beside them. Once across the chasm, he followed Aragorn's example and slashed the ropes that joined the two with a quick blade. The rope fluttered down the edge and disappeared into the blackness. Not bothering to examine their handy-work, Legolas continued their fast pace through the mines and was somewhat gratified at hearing what sounded like an Uruk plunge to his death, his shrill cries echoing down with him into the shadows. They were not out of this yet, however, the goblins that had become all too familiar to him on their last flight from Moria took up a chilling chorus of shrieks. But unlike the Uruks who could bear the sunlight, as long as they could outrun them, they would not follow them into the outside world. As arrows whizzed by them, and harmlessly struck the walls, the glare of light slowly became wider and brighter and the two companions burst out of the dark of Moria relatively unscathed and unharmed for having been inches away from brushing death. "A thousand curses on that black pit. Let the Orcs keep it! Nothing but evil dwells there!" He yelled to the sky in his own tongue when they had finally stopped their flight and the waiting figure of Elladan came into view at last. Legolas continued to walk at a forced march, however. Last time they had been chased from Moria, he had felt an all-consuming sadness at the loss of Mithrandir, and now he felt anger, mostly directed at himself for having been deceived so thoroughly by Celarwen's kidnapper. Who knew now what tortures she suffered, or if she was even in the world of the living any longer. A black dust had settled itself in patches over his fair skin, and his clothes were torn in places during their reckless run out of the mines. Minor cuts and scratches were apparent, but Legolas didn't even feel them. "It was a trap," He said simply to Elladan when he and Aragorn rejoined him.
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