Kalrimas calmly stops walking. As the goblin comes closer she swishes around inhumanly fast, her axe in hand and with a loud clang sinks it into the floor beside the goblin. IF she had aimed a bit to the left had he gotten split in two. She looks at him from her helmet. A gaze of death. "You don't seem to understand your position... Filth. You are nothing but waste here. A mercenary worth nothing." She lifts her axe from the cut made in the floor, the axe looking just as fine as it had done before, truly a masterfull craftmanship. "I command uruks and even trolls with equal measure. Don't think I will think for half a second before sacrificing you as a pawn." She turns around, walking forwards again. Her metallic boots clanking against the floor. She seems focused, determined and deadly... as usual.
It had been so long since Boendal had actually been inside a dwarven hold, and though old and abandoned this place still clung to the greatness of dwarven craftmanship, it was a mixture of feelings this gave him, the slight awe and feeling of home, from once again walking a dwarf made hold, but at the same time a bit malancholic and lostness, he had never been here before, and dwarves did not reign here anymore, despite their damned birthright to do so, atleast he knew he would have a chance to cleanse away some of the filth now walking these halls.
@Valonox @High_Adept_Zeth @BadDo9 @Grall_Stonefist After descending the stairs for what felt like hours the group finally came to the bottom and were greeted by an ancient hallway. Its ceiling was high and walls while masterfully excavated were clearly not in perfect condition. Holes were dug into the walls and portions were caved in with rubble blocking the way. Something scurried away when they brought light into the environment and one of the Gondorians nearly jumped out of his skin. “Wh-what was that?!” He asked directing the light from his amulet towards the sound. The light fell upon one of the many holes in the ceiling but wasn’t quick enough to catch whatever it was. The soldiers became nervous when they didn’t see what made the noise, those with the proper sight did make it out though. Some kind of small goblin, perhaps a snaga was spooked by the light and climbed into the hole. @Kalle @Wincent @Vlayden @Azathoth @bossaroo The Goblins froze when the witch talked to them directly and immediately let go of the ropes and ran out of sight. The gate remained still and the only direction they could go was forward into the caves. Of course there were pitch black with no natural light but the uruks and goblin faired perfectly fine. The Witch being but a human would find some difficulty but given her use of the black arts she did find her vision in the dark passable. Granted nothing like what the orcs could see but at least she wasn’t simply stumbling around in the darkness like a blind man. The caves were devoid of life, wet, and made for a generally awful place to travel through. If they had brought other orcs with them they would no doubt be complaining at every turn. But they had the luxury of being a small group having to navigate the barely explored expanses of the caves under Moria. So instead of having dozens of orcs complaining constantly they only had to hear themselves complaining.
Taking the last step before standing, finally on the even ground, Sindoril looked around the ancient hallway his medallion gleaming at his breastplate, radiating light that shone bright his eyes, the only revealed part of his face beneath the winged helmet and the darkblue cloth that was over his mouth. Noticing the caved in parts and holes digged into the walls, the tower guard could only imagine the majesty of the place in its hayday. “Wh-what was that?!” The solider behind him asked and from the jittery movements and wide-eyed looks from beneath their pointed helmet, Sindoril knew that they were afraid. He led men and women enough to know to what this can lead to if not channeled properly. It was alright to be afraid, for fear cannot be ignored but it can be channeled into a force of good. "Probably the enemy." he said casually before turning to the gondorian squad behind him. "Steel your hearts men and know why we do this. Many leagues await before us and while i personally dislike the cold dark we have been sent into, we have a job here to do, so let us press foward." @BadDo9 @Valonox @Grall_Stonefist Favoring each man individualy with a eye-contact, he turned around his cape following constrained beneath the wood and iron shield at his back. With a signature Ahlspeiss of the Guardians of the Fountain Court held in his left hand, he moved ahead consulting with Alastar and the two dwarves. "I am afraid we are not of the keenest eye here or good of nose, and our ears are to our detriment here for now. Could you move ahead of us?"
Kalrimas walks calmly. Due to the dark does she focus on her hearing and her smell. While not as accurate, does it work well enough for her to keep a normal stride. She gives off the impression of being able to see completely fine, even if she can't. She walks with confidence, while turining her head, taking out every detail she can. Her metallic boots clanging and her belts clinking with each step.
< @High_Adept_Zeth @Valonox @Grall_Stonefist > Alastar had looked over and growled a little at the sight of the goblin crawling into the hole. He couldn't quite see everything, but he could very well see more than most men. When he was spoken to, the ranger looked to the Gondorian Sindoril and nodded. "I am afraid my vision is not quite on par with our Dwarven friends. But no matter, Dulerath's nose is yours." he offered with a nod, the wolf by his side mirroring the motion.
Azdun breathed deeply through his nose, taking in the dank, malignant stench of these dark caves. Morgoth's presence was strong here. Others would complain, but Azdun, in his self-righteous insanity, enjoyed dark and wretched places in the same way a priest would enjoy a church. He pressed on, silent as ever, eager to serve the Dark Lord. Not the Vassal. The Lord. The TRUE Lord of Darkness....
@Valonox @High_Adept_Zeth @BadDo9 @Grall_Stonefist The Goblin seemed to not be coming back after retreating into its hole so the group found enough of their bravery to move forward. Looking at the walls around them and shining their lights around the place. It seems at one point this hallway had quite a few different doors connecting it to other rooms but over the centuries the ceiling had crumbled and given way. All of the former door ways to the sides were blocked by rubble. “Wonder how old this place is.” One of the Gondorians asked no one in particular as he looked around. The older one of the group rolled his eyes at the question. “Does that really matter? There’s something living down here, stop asking questions and keep alert.” At the end of the hallway it split into three different paths. On the left it seemed to be going level with the rest of the room, the center which was a staircase heading upward, and the right where there was a staircase heading down. “Which way should we go?” One of the Gondorians asked. @Kalle @Wincent @Vlayden @Azathoth @bossaroo The party continued wandering through the caves as the rough naturally carved out stone would give way to smooth carved out marble. The change was so sudden some would almost trip on the smooth surface made slip by dripping water. It seems they were approaching the older holds of Moria, the place where those goblins wouldn’t dare go. Still there was no natural light anywhere but the party would fare well enough with their sight, seeing the natural walls of the cave be replaced by carvings made into the stone. Figures made to look like dwarves standing at attention, eternally guarding their city from threats that have long sense overpowered and slaughtered its inhabitants. Their path would end with a large stone door in front of them that probably hasn’t been moved for centuries. Around it there were small tunnels dug into the stone, far too small for any of them to fit in. Even the goblin would have issues squeezing into them. Looking more closely they would also find the door was inscribed in some language that began to glow blue whenever one of the uruk or the goblin got closer to it.
Kalrimas approached the door, looking at it in the dark. "Hmm, this seems interesting." She lets her hand slide over the cold stone, mumbling to herself. "I have a feeling that it won't open as long as you are close to it" She speaks straight out into the air, but obviously meaning the company she is with. She eyes the door, looking at the Language, trying to see what kind it is. If it is Elvish or something else.
