Grumnir scratched his beard. "Hmm lots of Orcs more Orcs and Orcs and maybe some ruins, gold, Mithril probably maybe I don't if the orcs have mined it all out." Looking at the man from Gondor shrugging."But I do know we got a ways down to go." Quivering at the thought of possibly facing an ancient evil. @High_Adept_Zeth
The black book of the faith that destroyed Numenor clinked against a Wargs side, bound to the hip of the Uruk by a black chain. The Uruk himself, though bedecked in broken armor and covered in more scars than could be counted, was still a menacing sight, his one remaining red eye glaring through a rag-covered, scarred and raw head. His horrifically twisted features were hidden by a ragged hood, a torn cloak flowing loosely behind him. He eyed the native goblins with sadistic glee, a grin hidden beneath his hood. Not as infamous as any Black Numenorean, no doubt, but the legacy of Azdun the Mad surely had reached this place in one form or another. The Uruk slid off of the Warg and scratched it behind the ears, before walking away. What it did after was no longer in his hands, only Melkors. And speaking of Melkor, one cannot begin to imagine how excited the deranged Uruk was to go into the misty mountains. Legends of Balrogs and other horrors made it clear that the influence of his master was strong in this place. Sure, it would be a terrifying and possibly fatal adventure, but who cares? Might as well die if you never plan on seeing a Blarog. The Uruk would regard each member of the party he was now in with interest. Did these beings serve the Dark Lord out of fear, or true loyalty to the cause? And which did they serve: the immanent Dark Vassal, or the True Dark Lord, outside yet ever-present? This adventure he was about to embark upon would surely answer these questions. Show time. He thought, then directed his thoughts to the voice in his head. 'Ey boss, mind granten' me a blessin or two?
@Valonox @High_Adept_Zeth @BadDo9 @Grall_Stonefist After their brief conversations among themselves the group moved up to the entrance of the cave. The five gondorian soldiers in their shining armor soon losing its luster as they moved into the shadow of the mountain. Each of them carrying a pack of supplies as well as their own weapons, a sword and shield that held the image of the white tree on its face. The cave entrance was a large crack jagged crack in the stone that a man could managed to walk through. There was no sign of any markings left by intelligent life so they may very well be some of the first people to use this entrance in ages. The inside of the cave of course was pitch black but the Dwarves and Ranger could see clear enough that there were simple stairs carved into the stone. The way was barely wide enough for two men to walk side by side and it seemed to curve to the left. What the original purpose of this entrance was no one could say as those who made it are long dead. With nothing else to do the group moved downwards beginning their true journey. The Gondorians whispered to the amulets given to them causing them to shine a blue light that illuminated the ancient hallway. Solid stone surrounded them revealing that this was no natural passageway, only the hands of the dwarves could have cut the stone so smoothly. Every now and then they could make out small etchings on the walls, no doubt guide marks from when it was first dug. @Kalle @Wincent @Vlayden @Azathoth @bossaroo The Witch’s order reached a couple of squatting goblins who without hesitation moved to lift the heavy wooden bar. After it was moved out of the way it took quite a few of the feeble creatures to push the metal gate open. Its hinges creaked from lack of use as it slowly opened with the goblins straining to push it any further. The most they were able to get was pushing it just open enough for the group to enter single file. Though the spider would have difficulties it would be able to squeeze through eventually, forcing the doors open more through their strength Once on the other side they found it to be a large cavern with no natural sources of light given they were underground. The ceiling covered in jagged stalagtites dripping water onto the floor of the cavern. A black pool of water sat in the center of the area with occasional drips from the ceiling causing its surface to ripple. Not much else could be seen as the only visible light was that which creeped through the open doors. The lack of light wouldn't be an issue for the Uruks and Goblin of the group as they are naturally drawn to darkness. But for the human of their group this would prove somewhat problematic even if she was a descendant of the Black Numenoreans. Meanwhile the local goblins who had opened the door began fastening ropes onto the door. The smaller creatures wanting nothing to do with what lay within those caverns were planning to pull the door closed and bar it again. Meanwhile in Azund's broken mind heralded no meaningful response from his 'boss' as it was filled with the usual random dribble and mad thoughts.
Kalrimas, which had a good abbility to see in the dark. (not on the same level as uruks perhaps, but she had less problems than normal men had anyway) looks back at the goblins, trying to close the door. Glaring at them "This gate stays open. If we come back here and the gate is sealed, will you not need a gate any longer" She then looks forwards, not needing any reason to assume they needed more encouragement. She was completely serious in her claim.. and the goblins well knew that. Either they left the gate open and MAYBE had a bit of bad-luck... OR they closed the gate and was destined to die. She Looks at the other companions she have. A bit curious how they will stand up to this. Herself was mostly bored at the moment. She was interested in advancing her own power and trough her, the power of the Dark lord, nothing else.
At first stumbling in the dark before his brown eyes adapted to the lack of light, Sindoril slowly moved down the cave, carefully stepping upon the stone steps. After a while, and more then a few glances behind him and ahead of him, Sindoril noted by touch more then by eyesight that the texture of the stone walls changed, becoming more smoother with etched lines of various shopes. At a closer look they were simplistic and yet strange and beautiful. With the sound of chainmail rustling against metal plates and an occasional cought at the increasingly stifling air, they moved onward, or rather downward in silence. Bathed in the pale light of their amulets giving his comrades rather eerie apperance, and Sindoril winced unpleasantly at the thought. Seeking to keep his mind busy, he took into his gloved finger index finger and thumb the amulet that dangled from his neck by silver chain, holding it up infront of the map given to the by the House of Imladris. Glancing at where he was walking, he tried to judge where they were currently and how many days of walking they needed to reach their objective, if the map is accurate and up to date.
Alastar and Dulerath took the fore of the way down the stairs, using a small amount of darkvision to lead the way before the Gondorians activated their amulets. With a nod back to them, Alastar would keep his sword at the ready as they continued down the left-curving passage. Always keeping an eye out and nose up for anything that was coming, anything that could mean them harm.
As their party plunged into the mountain's depths, Longshanks kept quiet watch from the back, now and then turning in his saddle to watch the shanty town they passed and its occupants. Bugs they might be, but even bug bites can be crippling. Seeing no evident treachery brewing, Longshanks straightened in his saddle and looked out before them, to the pool. The woman bossed the goblins around. He paid a private thought to that whole affair, amused as to exactly how that all would turn out, and then he led his worg into a brisk trot, not quite running, but decidedly some speed to it, as he advanced deeper into the cavern. His nostrils flared with each, deep intake of scent, but Moria's smell was foul to the core and nothing but the Dark Lord's own servants would dare approach this close to the guarded gate. But it paid to be on the safe side. "That little gate won't light up all of Moria for you, madam," he pointed out. "Better to get used to the dark now..."
As the Spider-Rider followed the group a small distance behind - if only because being the one in front meant they had to fight alone, and would be the last to be able to run - the halberd being rested against the abdomen of the spider for a time. "What're we even lookin' for? Ain' got nothin for instructions past ' find the spooky thing'." Khagath said, waving his hands dramatically for emphasis. "'n what am I supposed to find here in th' mines? Dwarf skeletons don't make good profits or give good loot!" The complaints were at least to him, quite solid - how could one get good equipment if they were looking through the depths of places already ransacked? And there's no real way to get food of any sort - well, save for Shulix. The beast could eat anything that was alive, and they weren't at all afraid to 'accidentally' come across the dead body of one of these folks. But whom... The uruks? Gah - not a chance. They could tear him apart with their bare hands, and even as perhaps a king amongst his kind, Khagath was perhaps at best, 'equal' to these ones in seniority or rank, or... What have you. heh; what have you... what-have-you, what-have-you, what-have you. Fun to say. The woman though was, well. A human; what point was there to keeping that one alive? They never would see it coming, after all. Just take up a knife, sneak over while they sleep (pathetic humans always have to sleep so much after all), and slit that precious, tender little neck. Watch it bleed that red blood that smells so bittersweet. It'd make a good 'emergency' meal too - take an arm or leg for himself, whilst Shulix gets the rest of the body to feast upon. Maybe offer a limb to the other uruks, too, now that he thinks of it... They wouldn't be up for refusing a free meal in front of them, nor would they enjoy not being given such food when they starve. Bah. "... Madam? What are ya, some kinda human?" He asked aloud, mockingly towards the more polite Uruk. Even under the large Rohanian helm it was easy to see how he found it so, bizarrely amusing that he spoke in such a way. "Thought you was an Uruk, not one o those Black nu--.. Nume-- Numberknockers, or whatever that human is." @Kalle
"Numenoreans, gobl'en." The Mad One corrected. All he had to say really, as he entered the darkness. A wave of deranged anticipation hit him. Darkness always gave him that feeling, for he had a mental connection to it's progenitor. Or so he believed. The group didn't seem to need him for anything, and he didn't see much to do, so he simple stuck with the rest of them, looked around, and took the beautiful darkness in.
