The Adventures of Elladan's Outriders -- Episode 62

The Forgotten Treasury

Sunday, 6th of Forelithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Mines of Moria

Morhun the Orc

When I awoke there was a terrible chittering sound in what felt like my very ears. A vision of the enormous Moria-insects we had encountered previously flashed before my eyes in the pitch black, causing me to bolt upright and fumble for my dagger, but a moment later I felt Gaelira's hand laid gently upon my shoulder.

"You can relax, Master Hobbit," came her calm, reassuring voice. "It is only a small grodbog, as Drodie calls them, and it is not as near as it sounds."

The stone walls and gaping caverns of Moria were continuing to play their tricks on my ears, and the pervasive darkness of the Mines only served to amplify my own anxiety. In a short while, however, the five of us were huddled around Drodie's lantern and munching on breakfast (such as it was), causing all memory of my frightful rousing to evaporate. Instead, I could feel myself starting to become positively sick for a sight of the Sun again, even after finding some relief yesterday in the Dwarf-gardens of Tharakh-bazan. The visitation had enheartened me at the time, but was now serving as a reminder of the beautiful world outside which would remain beyond our reach so long as the gondath remained undiscovered here beneath the earth. I hardened my own resolve as I ate in silence, wondering what sorts of thoughts might be going through the minds of my companions.

"Through many travels and trials have we come at last to this day," Gaelira suddenly remarked. "Today we begin our search for the lost treasury of the Dwarves, wherein we have reason to hope one of the surviving gondath still lies. We know that place is located somewhere beneath Celebdil, the Silvertine, that Durin's Folk call Zirak-zigil. No doubt the mines and tunnels which lie under that peak are extensive, but our quest must leave no stone unturned for it is our friend Lagodir's welfare which is at stake." We all nodded.

"How far down will we have to go, do you think?" I asked pensively. My knowledge of tales concerning Moria (or Dwarf-kingdoms in general, for that matter) had always been rather sparse, but what little I had heard did not leave me desirous to plumb the depths of the mountains.

"I suppose we will just have to go and see," Nephyn replied. I remember thinking she seemed remarkably chipper for having been almost fatally poisoned just hours before. "Do you suppose it will get warmer or colder the further down we go? I should think it would get colder to the point of becoming unbearable. When I was a child I would hear travellers talk of freezing lakes under the mountains by night at the Pony."

"Which makes me wonder how much travelling they really did," Lagodir scoffed. "Warmer would be my own guess."

"Oh really?" asked Nephyn with a sidelong look at the Gondorian. "So, you think our lore in the Bree-lands less reliable than that of your own country, is that it?"

"No," said Lagodir. "I merely think that, if you are going to rely on travellers' tales for your information of foreign places, that your travellers should have actually had some experience with the places in question. I doubt any living Man has ever been there, of course, but from the heights of Minas Tirith we can see the tumult of Orodruin that is called Mount Doom in the Black Land near our borders. Ever and anon do fire, ash, smoke, and dust burst forth from that peak; whence comes it, if not from the bowels of the earth itself? That is why I would wager the heat will increase the deeper we go."

"Perhaps it is merely some contrivance of the Enemy's wrath?" mused Nephyn. "Was it not also said that the Dark Lord's former Master, in the days when Middle-earth was young, could command the freezing winds of his northern realm to bring ruin upon his foes? Maybe what you can see from atop your city is something of like nature." Lagodir did not answer immediately, but from his expression I did not think he was convinced.

"It could also conceivably be both at once," said Gaelira, but it appeared I was the only one who heard her.

"The wiles of our Enemy are many and varied," said Lagodir after a pause. "Still, I know what I have seen, and I will trust the evidence of my own eyes before some uninformed conjecture."

"Oh, we are uninformed, now are we?" huffed Nephyn, but there was a smile on her face. "Tell you what: since we are headed inevitably down into the depths, let us make a wager for five gold pieces upon the point."

"It is considered uncouth to wager coin against a woman in my country," Lagodir replied.

"Ha! Timorous words if ever I heard them," laughed Drodie who had been listening all this time and was clearly enjoying the repartee. "Fortunately we are not in your country, are we, Man? You have both forgotten there is a Dwarf among you, and of course I know the answer to your silly question. However, this argument amuses me so I will withhold the wisdom of my people and see how it plays out. But you, Lagodir: I would fain call you craven, if only our friendship and your brave deeds in battle did not prevent me!"

"Moreover," said Nephyn with her chin held high, "I am not one of your fainting Gondorian females, so there is no need to be chivalrous with me! If you will not place the wager, then allow me to do so: I bet five gold pieces that the air will grow colder as we descend, not warmer as you claim." Lagodir looked up at her dark-skinned face from where he sat and a smile played on his lips.

"Very well," he said as he stood. He extended his hand and clasped it with Nephyn's at the wrist. "Five gold pieces it is, then. Come! Let us begin our search and see whether the alehouse lore-masters of the North are as wise as their reputations make them out to be."

Drodie chuckled long and low, obviously harbouring some secret knowledge he would not impart for the time being, while Gaelira said nothing. As for me, I could not understand why everyone was so cavalier: from everything said it sounded as though the next leg of our journey would end with me being either burnt to a cinder or frozen into a hobbit-sicle -- and I would prefer to be neither!

It was not difficult to discover a path which led south and downward, further into the depths under the Silvertine. Our going, as ever in the blackness of the Mines, was slow and despite our progress I felt continually more unnerved as we went along. It was as though I could feel the weight of Celebdil overhead, as if it might come crashing down on us at any moment to stop our intrusion into its bowels, but of course nothing like that happened. I mentally kicked myself several times for my weakness of will and over-active imagination as I followed the others.

We encountered a few cross-roads now and then at which times we were required to choose our way forward. At such points, Gaelira and Drodie would often confer quietly with one another, but it was usually Drodie who would prevail and lead the way on. He seemed to be favoring the roads which led down and to the right, but whether he was acting on some Dwarven legends surrounding Moria or nothing more than a hunch I never did learn.

We descended some stairs and then the path we were on began to wind this way and that. Every so often we would encounter loose stones or other debris which had us slipping and sliding downward, but eventually this became too frequent to cause any alarm. This continued for what felt like hours until we literally stumbled onto something which caught us all by surprise: a planked wooden floor.

"Ah, this must be where the mining-works began," said Drodie and he tested the stability of the platform with his booted feet. "Following these would be the surest way to located the deepest delvings beneath the mountain. After me, all of you -- and be careful."

The rest of us needed no warning: like so many other parts of Moria we had already seen, the scaffolding we now occupied was almost completely absent any kind of handrails. The scaffolding itself, however, was broad and sturdy as it ran steadily down, down, down toward the heart of the Silvertine. We followed Drodie in single file, our collective senses straining to detect any turn in the path or other hazard along the way. Just when I was beginning to wonder if we would ever find the end of that interminable shaft, we halted. Gaelira asked me to light a second lantern and I did so. As the light broadened a little, I beheld an impressive sight.

It was a massive, gilded door -- I thought it must have been truly grand and opulent at one time, but any trace of precious materials had been chipped off and carried away long ago. It had two great iron panels and it must have been large enough to allow half a dozen Men to walk through it at once shoulder-to-shoulder if both panels had been swung open. Though none of us spoke, we all somehow knew we had finally found the lost Treasury of Durin.

Without a word, Drodie strode forward, laid his hands upon one of the two iron rings and pulled. The weight and age of the thing obliged Lagodir to lend his strength to the task as well, but after much grinding and groaning the ancient portal was finally opened. In the dim light of our lanterns we could see the tattered remnants of several old, dried-out spider webs hanging from the passageway which led inside. We moved within, and I swallowed hard before drawing my dagger and following the others.

Once inside, we saw a space which was indeed fit for a mighty king of Durin's line. The ceiling was vaulted, supported by stone pillars that were richly carved. We saw many smaller strong-rooms, crates, and lock-boxes here and there, but they were all broken open and plundered. We spent some time searching among the debris but found nothing of any use.

"Bah!" Drodie exclaimed as he tossed aside a rotting leather satchel. "This place is as empty as the promises of Thingol Greycloak. Why did we ever waste our time on this wild goose chase?" I said nothing as I looked around; it certainly appeared as though our quest had ended in failure.

"Perhaps there is some hidden chamber or passageway that we have not yet found," said Gaelira, ignoring the Dwarf's ill-mannered insult to her distant ancestor.

"What about this?" came a voice. It was Nephyn, and she was staring at a blank space of wall on the far side of the treasury. There were two large braziers on either side, which certainly seemed odd, but the wall itself was unremarkable: it was of smooth and polished marble, but that did not seem out of place as the rest of the vault could well be described as palatial.

"What about it?" I asked.

"Seems an usual spot to position two braziers, does it not?" said Lagodir, becoming interested in his own turn. "I think perhaps young Nephyn is onto something. Everywhere else in this vault where you find two braziers it is always to frame an important relic or monument. See there, where two torches flank that statue of Durin the Deathless? And there, were they bestride that pedestal? It looks to my eye as if it once held some artefact or weapon of reverence. Yet here were have two braziers adorning... nothing; just a blank space of wall. That is quite out of character, and the Dwarves are normally very particular about such details. They would be especially so in a place like this, wouldn't you agree, Master Dwarf?"

"Aye, it does strike me as a bit peculiar, now you mention it," said Drodie. He looked up distrustfully at the stone wall from beneath his bushy eyebrows. Nephyn, Lagodir, and Gaelira had already begun examining the wall more closely and were prodding every inch, presumably to find some latch, hook, handle, or keyhole which might indicate something lay hidden behind it. I just stood there and scratched my head. Something about all this seemed oddly familiar...

Suddenly, without even knowing how I came to the realization, I shouted at the top of my voice:

"ZIRUP!"

The marble wall cracked down the center and swung open wide; the others had to move quickly to avoid being crushed by the magical door.

"Well played, Sir Padryc!" laughed Lagodir as he brushed himself off; he had been knocked to the floor when the wall flew open and struck him square on the rump. "It seems you have outwitted the lore-master and even our venerable Dwarf this time."

"Key begets key!" I cheered, admittedly feeling rather pleased with myself. "The crystal key which opened Falgeirr Twisttongue's crypt revealed another key: the one engraved on the necklace that was buried with him -- the one to this door! I suppose I remembered how we used words to enter Moria a few days ago so I just put two and two together and, well, there you have it."

"There you have it, indeed!" chuckled Gaelira. "Come friends, let us see what secrets lie within!"

The inner chamber behind the marble wall was very dim and smelled old (I do not know how else to describe it). As our eyes adjusted, we saw a number of torches hung on sconces throughout the vault, so we lit these to have a better look-about. What we found was not encouraging: everything had been shattered and stolen just like the outer chamber we had left behind us. Drodie kicked an empty strongbox in frustration.

"Is there no crevice of my peoples' ancient homeland that these maggot-folk cannot invade?!" he cried. "How in blazes did the Orcs manage to enter this place -- the most secret and protected of all Durin's treasuries? HOW?!"

"It was not Orcs," came a thin, whispy voice from somewhere -- somewhere within the chamber. We all froze and the hair on my neck stood on end as chills ran down my spine. Something was in here with us.

"Show yourself!" Lagodir shouted. The five of us drew our weapons as one body. My eyes scanned the poorly lit chamber rapidly while my mind cast shadows of fear that seemed to move on the walls before us. There was a silence. Then, we heard a slow shuffling from the far left corner of the room. A single, indistinct figure was moving there, and it was slowly coming toward us. The sound of my own quick breathing hissed in my ears like a bellows.

"It was not Orcs," the voice said again, but this time I sensed a weakness in it, as if the owner was out of breath. "It was the Emissary; the Man of Mordor." I shuddered uncontrollably at the name.

"Who and what are you?" Nephyn demanded. She already had an arrow at the ready, but she had not yet raised her bow, for we could not see who was speaking to us. "Are you friend or foe? We can help you, if you require aid."

"I?" the voice laughed at us, and something about that laugh struck true terror into my heart. "You cannot help me, lost ones. There is no hope for Morhun. No hope. But I have seen -- oh, yes, I have seen. Seen things you cannot stand to see. Things you would not wish to see."

"Be wary, Padryc," Lagodir whispered to me, " We have faced many enemies together, you and I, but I fear this one may not be entirely sane."

Good to know, I thought to myself as I raised my dagger. We still could not see whoever it was that was that owned the voice, and despite the presence of multiple burning torches, the light seemed to be dimming as that figure drew closer to us.

"I have seen the coming of the shadows," the voice went on. "The Emissary came and Morhun came with him. He came for the stones, sat with them for days in this very chamber. But Morhun, he betrayed the Emissary, yes. Morhun wanted one of the stones for himself, and so he was left here to die. And so he will, but not before he has redeemed himself by slaying you!" The figure stepped fully into the light at last, and we saw there a hulking, straight legged Orc with an emaciated face and a raging madness burning in his eyes! And crooked scimitar was in his right hand, but his left was clenched at his side.

"Uruk!" Gaelira cried. "Nephyn, your bow!" The huntress raised her weapon to fire.

"NO!" 

The Uruk shrieked as it raised its left hand, where we beheld up a strange and wonderful thing. It was a glowing gemstone, teardrop in shape, purple in colour, and about the size of a smithing-hammer. At once it seemed to me as if every light in the room was doused. Time was slowed as faint and terrible shapes began to issue forth from the stone. I heard frantic whisperings as if they were inside my own head, and I instinctively dropped my dagger and began swatting at the sounds that were invading my mind. Nearby, I saw Nephyn clutching her ears, doubled over in agony. I could see that she was screaming for help, but no sound could penetrate the whirrings and whisperings that permeated my brain. Drodie was swinging his axe wildly at nothing while Lagodir seemed to be struck dumb, his sword falling to the floor from nerveless fingers. I felt as if I was drowning in a sea of noise while the hands and faces of long-dead ghosts were slowly rising to suffocate me.

But Gaelira was not cowed: she strode forward with her staff in one hand and the sword of her forebears in the other.

"Kuluvi ya karnevalinar!" she cried. Her blade flashed; the Uruk's hand which held the stone left its arm and clattered to the floor. As the stunned Morhun examined his dismembered hand, the sword of Gaelira passed through the heart, and it fell dead. Instantly, the strange visions faded from my sight, the light of the torches was about me, and the world returned to normal once more. We took some time to check that everyone was alright, and it seemed that everyone was, after a rest. Lagodir took the longest to revive, as he had become almost frozen where he stood for several minutes. Eventually, his eyes returned to the present, as if he had been wandering in some foul dream.

"I am sorry, I..." he muttered when he had returned to us. "I thought I was..." But nothing more could we get from him.

"What in Middle-earth just happened?" I asked as I retrieved my dagger from the floor where I had dropped it moments earlier. "I thought I had suddenly fallen into the Underworld itself and all the spirits of the dead were coming to take my life from me."

"You are not far wrong, at that," Gaelira answered as she kicked the lifeless body of Morhun. "It seems we have found what we came for, but not before the servants of the Enemy did the same."

"Would anyone care to render that into Common Speech?" growled Drodie as he and the others gathered themselves.

"We have found the gondath," Gaelira answered him. "Or, at least, we have found one of them, which is all we need for our own purposes, thankfully. But agents of the Dark Lord desired them also, though I am not sure why. From the ramblings of our recently departed friend here, I gather he was part of the bodyguard of this Emissary character who somehow located and entered this hidden vault in search of the Shadow-stones. Apparently, Morhun came to desire one of the stones for himself, and he was imprisoned here for his treason, but not before he did manage to steal one of the gondath. Poor wretch: he probably only thought to trade it for something of value. Little did he realize the power of that which he came to possess -- not until it was too late."

"You mean to say the gondath wield that kind of accursed power?" cried Nephyn, incredulous. "What was Elrond thinking, sending us off in search of something like that?"

"Lord Elrond would not have known the fate which befell the stones," Gaelira replied. "I think, also, that fate befell them only recently. Morhun spoke of an Emissary, a Man of Mordor, who came here and worked with the gondath for days. He must have corrupted them in that time, twisted them for his own purposes. From what we just witnessed, I would guess this Emissary was infusing the Shadow-stones with fell-spirits of all kinds. Such is their gift, you remember: to bind and hold things unseen to the eye."

"I have never heard of an Orc commanding such terrible power as this," whispered Drodie, his eyes wide with alarm. "May the ancestors protect us if we are come to such times!"

"No, I do not think that any more likely than you," said Gaelira. "I think, rather, that the stone itself, newly imbued by the Emissary with such malignant strength, was in command: Morhun was merely a vessel they used to amuse themselves. He was left here by his master to starve and perish, but the doom which he ultimately suffered was a worse one by far."

"What, then, do we do with this?" asked Nephyn as she separated the Shadow-stone from Morhun's severed hand.

"I will take that and guard it," said Gaelira. "The shades of the departed hold no fear for me, and we shall need all our vitality to return this thing to Rivendell. No doubt Lord Elrond will need to cleanse it first, but it should still serve our purpose, despite its defilement at the hands of the Emissary."

"And who is he, exactly?" I asked, still not quite following this sudden torrent of information. "I'm certain I've not heard of him before."

"Neither have I," Gaelira replied. "At least, that I know of. If he (or she) was able to pervert the gondath in such a manner then they must be a powerful sorcerer indeed, but whoever or whatever they may be is not our immediate concern: we must make all haste to return the stone to Rivendell. At once."

She tucked the Shadow-stone safely in the folds of her tunic as we made to depart. Everyone was a little shaken, but the terror of what we witnessed was enough to drive us speedily from that place. We retraced our steps through the mines under the Silvertine for several more hours, but eventually even the hardiest of us required rest. Gaelira was very reluctant to stop the march, but she finally relented after considering that we four had been subjected to awful things she could not understand. We found a little nook off to the side of the main passage where we set up camp, and so the day's adventures ended at last.

My final strength is quickly ebbing as I pen this account. I never cease to be amazed at the incredible things this Company has accomplished, but I am beginning to wonder just how much more of this I (or any of us) can continue to endure. Lagodir, especially, has suffered greatly in the short time I have known him, and I begin to fear for him. I think Nephyn senses this too, for I have caught her glancing at him and following his movements closely with her eyes (when I can see her at all, that is). I hope the recovery of that vile stone will be just the thing to finally end his torments and bring him the rest he has so valiantly earned.

The Adventures of Elladan's Outriders -- Episode 61

A Deathly Secret

Sterday, 5th of Forelithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Mines of Moria

Another clue left to us by Saxolf, Treasure-seeker

It was Gaelira, once again who roused us in the darkness. She had kept watch and tended our little camp-fire for roughly four hours while the rest of us rested, and now she urged us to make haste. What had given her cause to rush us so she would not say, but her voice sounded worrisome to me. During our hurried breakfast, she recounted what we had learned from the day before and also laid out what we hoped to accomplish today.

"Saxolf's scroll was cryptic, but I believe it gives us enough to go on as a start," she said. She spoke quickly, but whether it was excitement or fear I could not tell. "Begin at Durin's Vault. Let the Four Points guide you. We should start by locating Durin's Vault, then see what there is to see about these four points."

"And what about the runes?" asked Nephyn. "E, S, and W? Have you worked out what those might mean? It seems as if they could be the points of a compass, only N for north would be missing."

"The same thought had occurred to me," Gaelira replied, "But then there is also the strange, four-pointed star to consider. It may have something to do with the aforementioned 'four points' and it may not -- we shall have to view the proper place before the second half of the riddle can be made clear to us, I think. The sooner we begin, the better."

We did begin sooner. In a matter of minutes we were filing out of the Dwarf-library of Katub-zahar and hunting for Durin's Vault. We had no clear idea of where we were going, but we all had conjured images in our minds of what such a place might look like. I won't bore you with the details of that search, for it took hours: we climbed stairs and descended stairs. We slipped down piles of debris and clambered up rocky slopes. At one point we cautiously avoided what looked to be a goblin-den and (fortunately) were not detected in the process. Ever and anon we would halt to rest or to examine some side-passage or chamber, but we saw nothing that could possibly be mistaken for the vault of the King of the Dwarves of Moria in the days of its glory.

After a long time of this sort of thing, we came upon a major roadway which ran southward (as best as we could tell). Following this, we discovered it led directly into a large chamber which was littered with rubble and broken relics of all sorts. We took some time to examine the place, but it was Drodie who ended our search. He let out a cry of triumph and urged us to join him, which we did. He picked up a broken wall-plaque (similar to the one we had seen outside the Word-hoard of Durin) and showed it to us.

"Take heart, friends!" the Dwarf cheered. "We have found what we sought: this plaque reads: The Vault of Durin. We have found it!"

"Excellent!" said Gaelira. "Now, be swift: each of you search for anything that might be the Four Points mentioned in Saxolf's riddle."

This we did, but to no avail. The vault was dirty, dusty, and -- as we quickly realized -- not entirely stable. Small bits of debris would occasionally rain down on us from the ceiling. At first we didn't pay it much mind, but then there came a dull rumble and a whole chunk of stone crashed only feet from where Lagodir stood.

"We should probably not remain here any longer," the Gondorian said stoically. The five of us quickly retreated from the chamber.

"I hope we haven't left the next clue lying buried in there somewhere," said Nephyn. "Just when things were looking up for us, too."

"I do not think we are defeated just yet," said Gaelira. "The riddle said to begin here, which implies this is not where we will find what we are after. But what are the four points? I was hoping to discover something within the vault that would guide us."

"Perhaps we should have a look-about?" I suggested. "Maybe something will present itself."

Something did, as it turned out: not far at all from the crumbling vault we came upon a rather remarkable sight. It was a geode of immense size -- it had to have been at least eight feet tall -- and beautifully mounted upon a pedestal of stone and gold. The geode itself was partially exposed, and its insides glistened with innumerable amethysts. There were so many that, when our lantern came close enough, they captured and threw back its feeble light with a radiance and grandeur that stunned us all. As we stood there marvelling, Nephyn suddenly gave a cry.

"Look!" she said while pointing at the base of the geode. "On its pedestal!"

At first all I noticed was that the pedestal was adorned with lovely golden decorations. Then I saw those decorations included four arrows, each pointing away from the geode at right angles. Then, with a gasp, I realized each arrow was also adorned with a large rune-letter, made of amethyst: the letters N, W, S, and E!

"The Four Points!" I cheered. "The four points of the compass! It turns out we were right after all, though I'm still not sure why N was left out or what we're supposed to do now."

"Maybe N means north and that is the direction we should go?" mused Drodie. We attempted this, but heading north from that spot led us nowhere except to a rock-wall. We returned to the geode and its dazzling light display to ponder the riddle anew.

"What if E, S, and W were directions?" Nephyn asked. We agreed to try this theory as well.

Walking east of the geode, we came upon a flight of stairs. Having climbed these, we found ourselves on an elevated walkway which was lined with stone pillars. The way forward ended, and we could turn either north or south, so we went south. The path then turned west, and our spirits climbed.

But then the path abruptly ceased.

"A dead-end?" I asked in frustration. "Did we do something wrong?"

"I think not!" said Gaelira and I saw her gesture at something. Following her gaze, we saw that the bases of the pillars were adorned with a curious symbol: a small, four-pointed star! I cheered and clapped my hands.

"Well done, Gaelira! Now what?"

The she-Elf bent over and inspected each of the symbols closely. Then she used her finger to press on one, and it popped open like a locket on a hinge! Inside was a shallow compartment and a folded piece of paper.

"Ah, stellar work, Mistress!" I congratulated her. "But how did you know to try that one?"

"It was slightly more depressed into the stone than the others," came her answer. "I was expecting to find a mechanism of this sort: Dwarves seem to be fascinated by such things."

I retrieved the paper, unfolded it carefully, and read it aloud to the others.

I, Saxolf, have discovered the resting-place of the prized Shadow-stones (known as the gondath among the Elves)! They have lain hidden within Durin's Treasury for nearly four thousand years! 

It seems the genius of Falgeirr Twisttongue was employed by Durin in his wisdom to conceal these powerful artefacts and that he alone (aside from the King himself) knew the key to their recovery. Their location has been one of my people's most closely guarded secrets, but now, through what has been almost my entire life's pursuit, I have finally uncovered their whereabouts!

This knowledge would mean my swift and certain execution were any to learn of my discovery, but I cannot let my greatest triumph pass unheralded into the depths of Time. This is my legacy! I want someone to know that it was I, Saxolf, who solved the Twisttongue's greatest riddle! 

If you are following this trail, then understand that I, for my own safety, could not leave the location lying about openly stated -- hence these riddles. I beg your patience as you work your way through them and remember that it took me much longer than it could ever take you, for I had to find the riddles themselves AND solve them all on my own! I wish you luck on your quest.

Saxolf, Treasure-Seeker

"How exciting!" I said as the others crowded around me. "It's a treasure-hunt!"

"Indeed," said Gaelira, "But what about the next clue?"

"Oh, yes," I said, and held the letter up to Drodie's lantern again. "It says: Go north, to the Palace of Durin's Son. A dreadful leap ... the Fallen King ... search the bridge to carry on."

"Drodie, who was Durin's son?" I asked.

"That would be Nain the First," the Dwarf answered. "Like as not there is some structure or memorial to him somewhere within Moria."

"Somewhere nearby, it sounds to me," I said. "I suppose we only need to 'head north' and we'll find it eventually."

"Well, we certainly can't go north from where we are now," said Drodie. "Let us return to the main road!"

This we did and followed it northward. After a little while we came to a new, many-pillared building which was infested with a disgusting type of large insect Drodie called the gredbyg. I've never heard of their kind before and I hope I never see them again. Anyway, once we had cleared several of them out, we began to explore the ruins. We climbed one set of stairs which led us up to a new level, but then it ended suddenly: at some point in the distant past the stairs had fallen away, and now there was simply a gap into space with a tongue of stone thrust out into the open.

"Looks like we came the wrong way again," I muttered as we prepared to turn back.

"Maybe not," said Nephyn. "This would certainly be a dreadful leap, don't you think? Can anyone spy the bottom?"

We could not, but it was Gaelira who noticed a rock-slide off to our right which she managed to climb down with care. It wasn't long before she called back to us that she had reached the floor, and the rest of us carefully followed after her. Once we were all assembled, we searched the area a bit more and found the massive head of a stone carving which was lying and partially buried on the cavern floor. It was shaped in the likeness of a Dwarf's head, complete with a stone crown, and it looked to have been there for hundreds and hundreds of years.

"The Fallen King!" exclaimed Nephyn. "We must be on the right track. And listen! Can you not hear the rush of water? I think we are near to where we heard the cascades yesterday -- and if there is water there might very well be a bridge!"

It turned out there was, and it was a very impressive bit a stone-work too, like everything else we had seen in Moria. We spent a good deal of time poking and prodding various points on the bridge hoping to uncover another hidden compartment, but nothing presented itself. I tried to think through the riddle again, but I was becoming frustrated at the delay.

"We just have to keep searching," said Nephyn, trying to calm me down. "No doubt whatever it is we're looking for is here -- the riddle makes that plain enough. We just have to keep at it. No doubt it will appear obvious to us once we finally spot it."

"Wait..." I thought for a moment. "Neph, what if it isn't obvious?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, remember what Saxolf wrote in his last clue? He said he might be put to death if anyone were to learn that he had discovered where the gondath were being kept."

"Yes, I thought that was a bit odd," she replied, "But then again, Dwarves are known to be very protective of their rights and secrets."

"Just so," I continued. "If his life would be endangered by someone learning what he had found, then wouldn't he go out of his way to ensure his clues were not obvious? I mean, what if we're looking at this the wrong way?"

"What is buzzing about inside that little hobbit-head of yours?" the huntress asked me with a grin.

"Well, what if this bridge is too obvious?" I said. "I mean, there it was, right in front of us, right when we expected there to be a bridge... what if the riddle was referring to a different kind of bridge?"

"The Fallen King!" Nephyn cried with a laugh. "The bridge of his nose, you mean? It's worth a look, anyway -- that place is not far from here."

The others joined us as we doubled back to where the head of the Fallen King lay listing drunkenly to one side. With some difficulty, Nephyn and I clambered up the beard, onto the left cheek, and finally up on the stone nose. It wasn't long before we discovered a loose stone in the masonry! Under it, we found another little space which contained a folded piece of paper. I drew it forth and read:

Well done, brave treasure-seeker! Perhaps you will come to rival my own brilliance, but don't get too cocky just yet. Here is your next clue:

In Durin's Way, the High Stair beckons. To continue, you must steal a star of Khazad-dum.

Nephyn and I climbed down from the stone edifice to rejoin the others and I showed them what I had found. Drodie told us that Durin's Way was said among his people to be the grand highway which ran the length of Moria; it was on the upper levels of the kingdom and included several significant landmarks including the Dwarf-gardens of Tharakh-bazan.

"Gardens, in a place like this?" I asked, incredulous. "How could anyone possibly manage that?"

"In part with the right plants, but also with some clever engineering," Drodie responded. "Many Dwarf-holds would bore shafts into the rock for use as air-vents and light-sources. If done properly, I can see how you might be able to provide enough sunlight to maintain a garden under the earth."

"That sounds like it would be a sight to see," I said with a smile.

"And perhaps our search will take us there," added Gaelira. "Lead the way, Master Dwarf!"

Drodie led us as best as he knew how, always choosing paths which seemed to be rising and leading north. Our spirits rose as we continued, for we could see a faint daylight growing ahead -- apparently Drodie's information about the light-sources was correct, and soon we all blinked in the dim light. Eventually, we found ourselves on what seemed to be a roadway of importance, and we followed this for a long while. After some time, we happened upon a side-passage which featured a wall-plaque that remained in pristine condition. Drodie translated its carving to read Hall of the High Stair, so we quickly passed inside.

That hall did indeed contain a high stairway, of which we began at the head. Descending that stair brought us to a broad chamber and we explored it thoroughly, but we could find nothing resembling the star of Khazad-dum referenced in Saxolf's latest clue.

"Perhaps whatever this star is, or was, has been removed by plundering Orcs?" Gaelira suggested.

"It's beginning to look that way," I agreed with a sigh. "Why, there's naught here to speak of, really, except this little pool of water. I suppose it was placed here as something to admire, and it is lovely in its own way, but I don't see how a reflecting pool could pass for a star. Unless..." Everyone looked at me as I cocked my head to one side.

"What is it?" asked Nephyn as she looked around. I continued to stare into the water.

"Drodie," I said, "Would you mind raising your lantern a bit?" The Dwarf obliged me and everyone gasped: there, in the little pool of water, flashed many shimmering glints of light, like minute stars! We looked up and saw near us a stone pedestal which held a number of clear white crystals that was being reflected in the water. Drodie's light played off those luminous formations so that our eyes were dazzled.

"How lovely!" I said. "But I thought everyone was convinced the Orcs had stolen everything in these caves which had any value?"

"What, those?" asked Drodie in surprise. "Those crystals have no value -- they are as common as pebbles. My people use them to bring illumination in the dim places of our kingdoms for, as you can see, they divide and throw back light in the most marvellous way."

"I suppose it all depends on how you define the word value," I said. "Neph! Are you able to reach them?"

The huntress stretched as high as she could and plucked one of the beautiful gems off the pedestal. The stone basin rose slightly and there was a mechanical click! Suddenly, the water drained out of the little pool right in front of us. It slowly trickled away until the basin was dry. Upon inspection, we discovered one of the tiles which had previously been covered by the water was etched with four signs: a K-rune, an I-rune, an NG-rune, and a strange symbol of crossed bars, slightly set apart from the other three (I have traced a copy of it at the beginning of this entry).

"Here again we have only these runes to go by," said Gaelira as she studied the floor-tile. "And once again that last symbol is separated from the others and is no letter or rune with which I am familiar."

"King..." Nephyn mused quietly. "And a cross. King's Crossing? Is there such a place somewhere in Moria with that name, Drodie?"

"Durin's Crossing?" said the Dwarf after thinking a moment. "Not that I ever heard, but if your guess is right then it shouldn't be too hard to find: we need merely search for a major intersection of roads. Like as not we'll find just such a spot somewhere in Durin's Way."

We returned to the main road once again and followed it further north. The road then turned either east or west, but the western way was blocked by a nest of goblins, so we turned eastward. This way continued for a time, and we saw several points of intersection with other roads, but none of them seemed to be a way-meeting of sufficient importance. Finally, we entered a broad area which was quite well-lit from the light-shafts above us. Four roads met there, and we found another wall-plaque which declared that spot to be none other than Durin's Crossing.

Elated, we began our search. This time it was less than half an hour (thanks, in no small part to the fact we could see properly) before we discovered what we needed. In the south-eastern corner of the chamber stood another pedestal which held a number of large, orange-coloured crystals. Gaelira's sharp eyes noticed that one of the small stone ornamentations on the base was on a hinge. She swung it open to reveal another small compartment and another piece of paper, which read:

Don't give up now, you are nearly finished! Here is your next clue:

Continue eastward until you stand at my feet. North, then west, until you find my favourite pool. Explore the colours -- only through death can you hope to uncover my treasures.

"Only through death...?" I gulped. "I don't like the sound of that one bit!"

"Hopefully it does not really mean what it seems to say," said Gaelira, "Not unlike the previous riddles. Come, let us continue eastward."

We followed the road to the east again. The light was rapidly growing around us and we could hear the sound of running water somewhere up ahead. A very short time later we emerged into an incredible place: the Sun was shining (it was actually still rather dim, but to our eyes it seemed spectacularly bright), waterfalls were plashing, and we were surrounded by trees, shrubs, flowers, and plants of all kinds!

"Behold, Tharakh-bazan, the Garden of Kings!" said Drodie with a broad smile. "My heart rejoices to look upon the wonders of my ancestors. What a tale this will make when next I journey home to the Blue Mountains!"

"I think we could all say the same," said Lagodir as he looked around, "No matter what land we might chance to call home." I was relieved to hear the Gondorian speak: he had been very quiet ever since entering Moria and I was worried he might be finding his own internal battles made the more difficult in the darkness. Here, with the Sun playing on the leaves and streams around us, he seemed to be in much better spirits.

A little further on, in the garden's very centre, we saw a towering stone Dwarf-king. We decided this was what Saxolf meant when he said stand at my feet, so we began to search to the north and west. It wasn't long before we found a tranquil little pond, complete with flowered water-lilies and a couple of over-hanging trees.

"This certainly seems to be the place referenced in the last clue," I said. "But now we should explore the colours, right? What on earth does that mean?"

"It means that, most likely," said Nephyn. She was pointing at a bizarre-looking plant off to the right which stood only a few feet from the water's edge. Almost six feet tall, it was a peculiar combination of pink, green, yellow, orange, and light blue, such that you weren't quite sure whether it looked beautiful or sickly. The leaves were long and thick, and they were bunched up while pointing upward, as if it was an enormous flower waiting to bloom. Right away, the first impression I got was one of danger.

"Do you suppose we have to deal with that thing?" I asked, pensively. "Something about it seems... off to me."

"It's definitely the most colourful thing around," said Nephyn as she examined the plant. "And look here! I can see something wedged inside of it! You can see for yourself -- between the leaves." I went over to have a look.

"I see it too," I said after a moment. "It looks like a small container of some sort... It's a good ways in there: I don't think my arms are quite long enough to reach it."

"That is just as well," said Gaelira as she pulled me back from the plant. "Remember what the riddle said? Only through death can you hope to uncover my treasures? We should not take the chance that this growth might be poisonous."

"Nor need we," said Drodie as he unbelted his axe. "One side, Elf! And you too, young Nephyn -- I wouldn't want you to be in the way of my swing! I'll have this weed down in two shakes of my beard." We all stood back to give him room.

Thwump! Thwump! Each blow sounded like he was kicking a bladder full of tar, and the strikes simply glanced off the rubbery foliage. First Nephyn then Lagodir also lent their strength to the task, but without success. After several minutes of this, all three had to pause for breath. There were only a few tiny scorings on the plant which bore witness to my friends' attacks.

"We'll be here until the very mountains themselves fall in on us at this rate," moaned Drodie as he leaned on his axe-haft. "Is there no other way to reach that infernal thing?"

"Where brawn has failed, let us give brains a try," said Gaelira. Lifting her staff, she attempted to probe inside the plant and lift the item from its resting place. This was quickly proved hopeless, however, as the item turned out to be a rounded glass phial which could not be gripped or controlled by Gaelira's stick in any way. Following this, we attempted several other potential remedies (even to the point of scaling a nearby tree and trying to reach down into the plant from above), but with no luck. Finally, in frustration, Nephyn simply shoved her way up to the thing.

"I've about had my fill of this," she said through gritted teeth, "I'll play the Dwarf's silly game."

With that, she thrust her arm deep into the leaves and winced in pain. When she drew her hand back, I saw her arm had been pierced many times by some unseen barbs and she was bleeding, but not badly. In her fist she clasped the glass phial, and there was a note tied around it. I don't think I had ever seen her do anything more brave in all the time I had known her.

"Neph!" I cried as I rushed to her. "Are you alright?"

"My arm," she said as she sank to the ground, her face already quite pale. "It's going numb. No doubt the thing is poisonous."

"Oh, no!" I wailed and I fumbled at my pack for some bandages. "Quickly, we should wash the wound."

"What about the paper?" asked Nephyn weakly. "What does it say?"

"Oh, bother that!" I said. "You just lie still and we'll get you well first."

"I think we should do as she says," said Gaelira calmly. I looked at her, then seized the phial and tore the note from the string which bound it in place to read these words:

You have proven yourself worthy -- only someone as dedicated as I would be willing to risk the poisons of the amradush, the "death-root!"

Fortunately for you, the flask in your hand contains the antidote that will save your life. 

"Oh, thank Heavens!" I exclaimed as I uncorked the phial. It contained a pungent yellow ooze, but I forced Nephyn to swallow the whole thing. She coughed and wretched a bit, but she soon fell silent and the colour began returning to her cheeks.

"I do hope she'll be alright," I said as tears began to fill my eyes.

"I feel better already," Nephyn said with a smile. "Just give me another moment or two."

"That was a valiant deed, lassie," said Drodie with a bow. "Of the sort that would make any Dwarf proud to call you friend."

"Where both brawn and brains failed us, raw courage has won the day!" said Gaelira as she grinned. It is as well none of us recognized the plant or perhaps we would have never dared such a feat. On the other hand, something tells me this Saxolf would never have really wanted to kill whoever was on his trail -- he seemed to enjoy having an audience, even if he himself was not around to see it."

"Speaking of which," Lagodir chimed in, "Does the note leave us another clue?"

"Erm, yes, in fact it does," I said as I re-examined the letter. "Here is what it says..."

I will not toy with you any longer, brave treasure-seeker, so drink up and solve my final challenge:

Continue south, past my feet again, then east until you reach the Hall of Glass. The King watches over an amaranthine resting place. Like begets like, and key begets key.

"Past my feet again?" Drodie mused. "That's clear enough: we should head back to the south past the statue of the king we saw earlier. Then we strike eastward until we find this Hall of Glass. That will most likely be a place with many of the shining crystals we have seen already, it seems to me."

"I'm not moving an inch until Neph feels well enough to continue," I huffed. "Besides, isn't it about time for lunch?"

"I'm glad to know my welfare scores higher than lunch with you, Padryc," Nephyn groaned, though she was laughing as she spoke. "If only just! But I am feeling better. I believe a short rest and a bite will do me a world of good, however."

We shared first a hearty laugh and then a hearty meal together. The brightness of the Moria-gardens and the passing of immediate danger had lifted our mood considerably -- even Lagodir was in excellent spirits. Very quickly, however, the light began to dim somewhat as the Sun passed the noon hour and no longer shone directly down the air-shafts. By then, Nephyn was feeling quite herself again, so we allowed ourselves only a brief rest before resuming our mission.

We returned to the statue in the midst of the gardens then struck south and east. The pathways of Tharakh-bazan were well-laid and easy to traverse, but even so our going was slowed. Not by any adversity, mind you, but simply by the beauty of that subterranean wonder. There were limpid pools as smooth as slate, hanging trees, and colourful shrubs, all thriving and growing beneath the mountain's vaulted dome. Every now and then we would stumble upon curiously designed mirrors, the purpose of which seemed to be directing and re-directing the Sun to ensure the plants always received sufficient light to maintain life there under the stone. The entire place was truly a marvel -- a testament to the genius of Durin's Folk.

Very soon, however, the plant-life gave way to another area of pillared stone. There was no doubt we had found the Hall of Glass mentioned in Saxolf's last riddle, for the place was positively packed with crystals and glass-shards of all shapes and sizes. We saw many expertly poised on stone pedestals and packing braziers everywhere -- even many hanging from the ceiling like chandeliers! -- and they were of all colours; pink, orange, red, yellow, purple, green, and gold, just to name a few.

"Why, it's like watching a fireworks show!" I exclaimed as we all stood and gaped at the view. "Only, these fireworks don't ever go out. Who'd have ever thought I'd see such a thing in my life!"

"These are the works of my people in their days of peace and plenty," said Drodie, and I thought I caught only the tiniest hint of a quaver in his voice as he spoke. "Never again shall we rival such triumphs! It pains my heart that wonders like these must be left to the defilement of the Orcs."

"And yet there is no sign of their defilement, not here at least," said Lagodir as he looked about. "In fact, both this hall and the gardens behind us seem to have escaped the wrath of the Foul Folk almost entirely. Perhaps they do not understand how the mirrors reflect the Sun's radiance and so they live in fear of it."

"That may well be," said Gaelira. "But what is our next step? I believe the riddle's second line was: the king watches over an amaranthine resting-place."

"This Saxolf chap rather likes his kings, doesn't he?" I laughed. "Are we looking for a tomb, then? Amaranthine is, of course, simply another name for lavender or purple."

"Like that, do you think?" asked Nephyn as she pointed into the distance. There, some way ahead, we saw a relief carving of yet another likeness of Durin, Father of the Dwarves, etched into the wall. Just before it stood a massive stone pedestal which was brimming with an array of gorgeous purple crystals.

"Not exactly what resting-place had me thinking of," I admitted, "But maybe he meant a resting-place for the crystals? Either way, it seems to fit, so I suppose we should go take a closer look."

Our closer look revealed we were probably onto something. Near the base (and cleverly hidden around the back) of the pedestal we found a strange little contraption which appeared to be some sort of locking mechanism. It was shaped like a wheel, but there was a kind of length-wise impression down the centre of the circle, as though a rod or thick dowel was meant to be inserted there.

"Now, what on earth are we supposed to do here?" I asked. "It will be the last straw if we have to go traipsing all over Moria looking for some key to fit this thing."

"I doubt that," said Gaelira. "Thus far, Saxolf's puzzles have all been solvable with nothing but what we had available to us at the time and place we found them. There is no reason to suspect this one will be different. Let us think back to the riddle: Like begets like, and key begets key."

"What about this?" asked Nephyn. She dug into her pocket and produced the small crystal she had taken from near the draining pool back in the Hall of the High Stair.

"Well!" I cheered, "Neph's natural pat-rack tendencies just might prove useful for once. Try it and see if it works!"

It did not. The small, white crystal was rather too large and too long to fit into the lock, so the huntress shrugged and stowed her prize away again.

"I'm actually glad it didn't fit, if I'm honest," she said with a smile. "It's an excuse to not have to give up my little souvenir. But what now?"

"Like begets like," Drodie chanted as he stared up at the enormous collection of purple crystals in front of us. He then surveyed the area around us, squinting as he peered off into the distance.

"What about those?" he asked suddenly and pointed to the south. "Do you see what I see?"

We looked. A short ways off, there was a dais of stone steps surrounded by four pedestals, each holding more of the coloured crystals. They were all lovely to gaze upon, but one thing caught my eye: of the four sets of crystals, three were orange in hue, but the fourth was of amethyst.

We rushed down the hallway to examine the fourth basin. After clambering up the pedestal, Nephyn fished around with her hand and quickly produced a purple gem which looked to be just the right size! We raced back to the circular mechanism and tried inserting the crystal.

It fit! Gaelira gave it a sharp quarter-turn to the left and there was a loud clack. Then, slowly, a rectangular stone emerged from underneath the giant pedestal, as if being driven by some machine. It was about four or five feet in length and three or so feet wide, and there were deeply carven runes adorning the stone lid. Drodie leaned over them and translated for us:

Here lies Falgeirr Twisttongue, Riddle-master.

"Ha ha!" I cheered and danced a little jig in my happiness. "So it is a real 'resting-place' after all! And key begets key! No doubt the key to whatever chamber holds the gondath lies in here, buried with the Dwarf who was charged with maintaining their secrecy!"

"Well, normally I wouldn't hold with disturbing the bones of my long-dead kin," said Drodie with a grimace, "But under the circumstances I suppose we have no choice. Let's have that lid off -- come, Lagodir: you and I together ought to manage it."

The two of them carefully lifted the cover and placed it gently on the floor. Inside the crypt lay the bones of a Dwarf who we could only assume must have at one time been the legendary Falgeirr Twisttongue. We searched his resting-place thoroughly before Gaelira finally noticed something around the skeleton's neck. It was a small, finely polished rune-stone, deep-green in colour, with a single word engraved upon it. Gaelira (very respectfully) removed the necklace and handed it to Drodie, whose brows knitted together in confusion.

"It only says Zirup," he reported with a baffled look. "That would be end, completed, to finish, or something of that nature. What sort of mockery is this? I had never believed the tales that Falgeirr delighted in driving those who sought to solve his riddles to madness, but I do now! Why, if I do not tear out my beard right here where I stand it shall be a marvel!" He flung the necklace at Gaelira in anger as if the thing was cursed, and the Elf deftly caught it in one hand.

"Leave your beard in place for now, Master Dwarf," said Gaelira with a chuckle. "I suspect your face is more comely with it intact. But also, you forget we are not dealing with Falgeirr, your famed riddle-master of yore. These puzzles were the work of Saxolf, who had solved Falgeirr's riddles himself and wished others to know of it some day, though he himself would not live to see the time."

"What should we do then?" Nephyn asked her.

"I think," said Gaelira wistfully, as if she were casually pondering the question, "That we should take a look at this." She held out her hand. There, on her palm, we saw Falgeirr's necklace, but it was upside-down. On its reverse, as if scratched in by a crude chisel, were two words:

Undu Zirak-zigil

"Under Zirak-zigil!" shouted Drodie. "Under the Silvertine! That is one of the three Mountains of Moria -- the one in which we currently stand, unless I am much mistaken. We need only search downward! There must be a path which leads into the roots, for it has long been told that the richest veins of mithril were ever found beneath the Cloudyhead."

"Wait a minute," I said, and I cocked an eyebrow at the Elf. "How did you know there was something written on the back of that rune-stone?"

"Because I felt the etchings when I caught it," came her smiling reply, "After Drodie so politely lent it to me mere moments ago. Friend Dwarf, I think perhaps it fitting that you keep this bauble with you in case we should need it again later. You have my assurances it will not drive you to distraction." Drodie accepted the necklace back, but none too happily, it seemed to me.

"Well, it seems we are victorious, at least to some extent," I said. "We have not yet found the gondath themselves, but apparently we know where to begin looking for them."

"Sort of," Nephyn frowned. "'Under Zirak-zigil' isn't exactly a precise location, is it? I can't help thinking we might do better if we had a map, or at least some idea of what we are looking for."

"As to that," said Gaelira, "I have been giving that very thing a great deal of thought while we were searching and I believe I could hazard a guess. Saxolf wrote that he would have been put to death had his discovery become known. His discovery of what? Why, the Shadow-stones, of course... or so we thought. After all, are they not the object of our own efforts? But those gems, rare and valuable though they are, were hardly the most precious of things kept within the vaults of Durin, King of the Dwarves, richest and mightiest lord of all Western lands. Moreover, Saxolf himself had already divulged the location of the gondath to us in his very first missive. Do you remember? They have lain hidden within Durin's Treasury for more than four thousand years, he said. It was his discovery of the entrance and key to Durin's Treasury, not the Shadow-stones, that so imperiled his life! And so it is we now know what we must seek: the secret treasury of the Dwarves, concealed deep within the roots of Celebdil -- the final phase of our quest."

"Aye, if we can find it," countered Drodie. "Like as not the entrance will not simply be out in the open for anyone to see."

"Key begets key," Gaelira replied. "I expect the answer to that question will be found on or in that rune-stone of yours, when the time is right. But first we must find the doors."

With that settled, we spent the rest of the day retracing our steps and searching for downward paths that might lead us to the lodes beneath the Silvertine. I felt a distinct twinge of regret as I left the bright upper halls of Durin's Way and descended once again into the smothering and stagnant darkness of the Mines.

The Adventures of Elladan's Outriders -- Episode 60

The Word-hoard of Durin

Highday, 4th of Forelithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Somewhere in the Mines of Moria

Tomes from the Dwarven Library of Katub-zahar

Gaelira roused us all in the dark. It was impossible to tell what time it was, but the she-Elf seemed to think we had rested for roughly five hours, or perhaps a bit longer. Waking into pitch darkness is quite disorienting, I can tell you, but once I could see Drodie's nose light up as he fed his lantern my head stopped going giddy on me. We breakfasted, but it turned out none of us were really hungry, so it wasn't much more than a cold bite standing.

"Today we shall continue our search for the word-hoard of Durin," Gaelira told us as we prepared to move on. "Nephyn's excellent idea of seeking records of the gondath is as good a plan as any of us could come up with, and I have no doubt it will prove fruitful if only we can find this library."

"As to that," I said quietly (for our stone surroundings would echo and magnify the slightest sound something terrible), "I'm perfectly happy to let Drodie lead us to wherever he supposes such a place might be -- I'm certain I've no idea myself."

"Neither do I," came Drodie's reply, but his voice was tinged with amusement. "Still, no doubt we'll see many wondrous things along our way as we look."

"Or dangerous things," countered Nephyn. "But I'm sure we'll be alright if we stick together."

We went in single file, same as yesterday, with Drodie out in front and Gaelira bringing up the rear. The others felt buoyant to me (since I couldn't really see them, you know... if that makes any sense), but as for myself I found the task of blundering about in the dark with no clear idea of where we were going to be rather tiresome. We crept up stairs and down stairs, round passages, through tunnels, across bridges (ancient Dwarven architecture is curiously lacking for handrails, I found), and still the caverns stretched on and on into the blackness. Our going was slow, for we would often come suddenly upon sheer drops without warning so that, at first, we were constantly bumping into each others' backs to avoid a fall. Eventually, this became so commonplace that we no longer bothered about it, and Drodie did become quite adept at sniffing out such situations and warning us by signalling with his lantern. It's remarkable, really, how inventive a group of bodies can be when near-certain death might be only one false step away.

Other than that, there really isn't much to say about our journey for hours -- many hours, and I couldn't tell you how many. For some time I had wondered whether perhaps the Sun had gone out and the world had ended but we five had somehow been left behind: doomed to wander forever in darkness until the renewing of the Earth. Your mind can play funny tricks on you when it is deprived of its normal senses. Anyway, I'll spare you the unnecessary details and skip ahead to when things got very interesting indeed.

None of us knew where we were or when we were -- it might be tomorrow by now, for all I know. I remember going down several short flights of stairs, staying level for some time, going back up more stairs, then straight on again for a ways. I distinctly heard water at one point, cascading water, but it was off to our left and then slowly faded into the distance behind us. We continued on a level space for a little while and then we found ourselves standing in an archway. There had been several of these kinds of portals thus far, but none of them had led anywhere useful; mostly small side-chambers, guard-rooms, or storage vaults which were empty and went no-where. This door, however, was the largest one we had seen yet and the grand carvings on the door-posts indicated we had stumbled upon a chamber of some importance. We wanted to explore it as we had the other rooms we found, but Drodie insisted we halt a moment while he examined the entryway.

"Ah!" he exclaimed after several moments. We all crowded around to see what he had discovered. He standing just to the side of the right-hand door-post and pointing at something which lay at his feet. It was a sort of plaque, or sign, written in Dwarvish and broken into a few pieces where it had fallen goodness only knows how many years ago.

"That," said the Dwarf with a victorious air as the lantern-light burned in his eyes, "Is the room-plaque which tells us the purpose of this chamber. All of the important places in Moria had them, but it seems they were not always meant to be permanent fixtures. Makes sense, I suppose: it would be rather difficult to change the carving if you ever had a need to change the chamber's purpose, wouldn't it? Much easier to simply take the plaque down and replace it with a new one."

"Very sensible," I admitted. "But, erm, what does it say?"

"Oh, I do beg your pardons!" said Drodie with a grin. "I forgot that you lot wouldn't be able to read it. It says Katub-zahar, and that was the name of the Word-hoard of Durin, the great Library of Moria! It seems we have found it at last."

"At long last!" said Nephyn with a sigh. She, perhaps more than any of us, found the darkness and closeness of the Mines unsettling; I don't think she was used to such surroundings. I'm not either, of course, but I can see how a hobbit might be a bit more at home in an underground dwelling than a free-roving huntress. Still, a spot of sunlight now and then wouldn't go amiss...

"But this is excellent!" I said, trying hard to keep my voice down. "Now all we have to do is find some record of the gondath in here and we'll be on our way."

"I doubt very much it will be quite so simple, Master Pemberton," said Gaelira, but she said it with a smile. "This library probably contains most of the ancient Dwarves' knowledge and lore from across the thousands of years that this, their mightiest kingdom, stood. Our search is far from over."

"Oh," was all I managed to say. The prospect of digging through a mountain of books in the dark wasn't at all to my liking.

"To make matters worse," said Drodie, "You can be sure that most of the records in here are likely written in Khuzdul. Still, the Dwarves of Moria are said to have had dealings with the Elves and Men of lands both near and far, so there's a chance you may find items you can read. And these gondath, these 'shadow-stones,' they're supposed to be bits of Elven-craft, yes? Well then -- perhaps we'll get lucky and find something written about them in Elvish. Not an insignificant number of my folk are known to write well using the Elvish characters, though you may be surprised to learn it."

"That is certainly well," said Gaelira. "All the same, time is of the essence. I think, Drodie, that you should write down for us any key-words which might identify a tome of interest. That way, if we see those words written somewhere, we can bring the book to you for further examination." We all agreed this was a capital idea, and Drodie was happy to oblige. Next, we all lit our own torches, the better to see by as we prepared to scour the depths of the Word-hoard of Durin.

Thus armed, we entered Katub-zahar. We couldn't see it properly in the darkness, of course, but it soon became clear that Gaelira's concern was well-founded: it was a massive collection of books, scrolls, parchments, tablets, and other writings which stretched from floor to ceiling on multiple levels. We got on well at first, but soon we all started finding Drodie's key-words in several places, and after a while the Dwarf became positively buried in books that held potential interest. It must have been hours later when there was finally a development.

Drodie had his nose buried in a particularly fat book and Gaelira was reading a scroll while the rest of us were taking a breather. Suddenly, the she-Elf laughed aloud and waved us to her. We all quickly converged to see her eyes shimmering in triumph.

"Here at last we find something useful," she said. As we crowded around her, I could see the scroll she held was written in the Common Tongue. "It is an account of an ancient Dwarf-hero named Uthi."

"Uthi?" asked Drodie with an obvious sarcasm he made no effort to hide. "Uthi the Destroyer? That is nothing more than a bedside fantasy -- a fairy-tale told to our children from time out of memory. If what you found is a copy of that absurd story then you've found nothing of any interest to us."

"It is not merely a re-telling of the story," said Gaelira. "It is a recorded copy, yes, but there are many notes in the margins as well. It looks to me as if some Dwarf-scholar was fascinated by the origins of that tale and was conducting research into it."

"So?" Drodie countered. "What do the idle fancies of some pointy-headed historian have to do with us and our quest?"

"What can you tell us about the legend of this Uthi the Destroyer?" Gaelira asked him.

"Oh, bah!" spat the Dwarf. "Very well: if you promise to tell me the point of this ridiculous line of enquiry! Uthi was always said to be the mightiest Dwarf-champion who ever lived. Most of the tellings put his life somewhere in the early Second Age, but naturally no one really knows when he lived nor have there ever been any records of him among our fallen, conveniently enough. Anyway, Uthi was a warrior whose shouts could split stone and who routinely bested Dragons in single combat; you know -- the usual sort of adolescent rubbish. No doubt the legend grew a bit with each re-telling over the centuries, but surely it's all nonsense! What is the point of this, Gaelira?"

"What else did your people say about Uthi?" the she-Elf asked with patience. Drodie rolled his eyes and thought for a moment.

"Well, it's been quite a while since I've paid any attention to such drivel myself," he said, "But I seem to recall he acquired the most magnificent set of armour from some Dragon-hoard that rendered him invincible. Oh, and he wielded two axes: Sharok and Karkh -- Hate and Fear -- and those were said to be the source of his incredible strength. Supposedly, they drank the blood of his enemies and fed on their souls so that each triumph made Uthi stronger. But what has any of this to do with..."

Drodie's eyes widened as the realization hit us all at the same time.

"No!" said the Dwarf, his mouth hanging open. "It can't be! You mean to say --"

"Remember what Elrond told us about the gondath?" Gaelira interrupted. "That they had the power to bind things unseen? And what if the Noldor of Eregion had discovered the secret of their forging, or had some of these things in their possession from days long past? If word of such relics were to reach the ears of other races, then perhaps it would not take much for a fertile imagination to conjure up the image of an Uthi with his soul-stealing axes. It certainly appears the writer of this scroll believed there was some measure of truth to your ancient bedtime-story, Master Drodie, or at least that it was based upon some measure of truth. Listen to what he has written into the margins of this scroll."

- Eregion first settled by Noldor around S.A. 750
- Much trade and traffic between Moria and Eregion; kings exchanged gifts of goodwill
- Oldest records of Shadow-stones found date to S.A. 1228
- First records found for the Legend of Uthi date to S.A. 1903
- Likely handed down by song prior to being recorded

"And these notes are signed by the author," Gaelira continued. "He writes here his name, Saxolf, and the year as being 1979 of the Third Age -- more than a thousand years ago, now."

"Ah! Then this scroll dates to the last days of King Durin VI," said Drodie with sadness in his voice. "It was the following year that we awoke Durin's Bane in the depths of Moria and sorrow befell my people."

"Durin's Bane?" asked Nephyn.

"Some creature of terrible power which slew Durin VI as well as his son Nain before driving the Dwarves from Khazad-dum forever," Drodie answered her. "Whatever it is, it probably still walks these halls." I gulped and looked around nervously.

"The same thought had occurred to me," said Lagodir grimly. "And so, all the more important that we continue our search without delay."

"But continue where?" I said, trying to follow Gaelira's line of thought. "I still don't understand what this scroll tells us. It mentions the 'shadow-stones,' right enough, but how does that help?"

"It tells us this particular scholar believed there to be a link between the coming of the Elves to Eregion, the trading between them and the Dwarves, and the rise of Uthi's incredible legend," Gaelira replied. "Saxolf seemed to think that the legend was inspired by something that happened after the Elves founded their realm just outside the West-gate of Moria; he believed it no coincidence that Drodie's fairy-tale began cropping up only after there was traffic and trade established between the two peoples. Unfortunately, I don't see anything else here that might indicate where the gondath might be, although he does mention there are records of them somewhere. I suppose we have yet more digging ahead of us." I cast my eyes downward in weariness.

"Half a moment," I said as I cocked my head sideways. "What are these?"

My eyes had fallen by chance on the lower portion of the reverse of Gaelira's scroll. There, at the bottom corner, I saw strange markings:

Near the marks were written the words: I have found the way! Begin near Durin's Vault -- The Four Points show the way. Twisttongue has the Key. Saxolf -- S.A. Year 1979.

"Twisttongue?" asked Drodie, obviously excited. "Falgeirr Twisttongue? He was a Dwarf-scholar of great renown! It is very exciting that we should be involved in anything that also bears his name. Although..." Drodie faltered and his voice ceased.

"Yes?" I pressed him.

"He was named Twisttongue for good reason, from what I've always heard," Drodie replied. "He liked to speak in riddles, and it was said took pleasure in driving those who tried to solve them mad. This may not be such a good thing for us after all."

"Especially if time is not our ally," huffed Nephyn.

"Still, it is a start, and we shall do what we may," said Gaelira. "What and where is Durin's Vault?"

"It was the largest of the king's guarded keeps for jewels, relics, things of that nature," said Drodie. "Like as not it has been plundered many times over by Orcs -- I doubt we will find anything there."

"But if this Falgeirr liked to speak in riddles," I mused, "And if Saxolf thinks he found a way to unearth the gondath, then perhaps this is only the first step in a series of puzzles that might lead us to what we seek!"

"You may be right!" said Drodie, becoming excited once more. "Why, did I not say it was the very next year that Durin's Bane brought about the Fall of Moria? Perhaps Saxolf never finished his task -- perhaps the stones are still there, just waiting for us to find them!"

"Just so!" I cheered. "But what about these signs, to start with? Do they mean anything to you?"

"Well," said Drodie as he peered at them, "They are faded with time, but I would say that is an E rune, followed by an S, followed by a W. I have no idea what that might signify, and that last symbol is no rune that I've ever seen: it looks to me like a four-pointed star. Gaelira, does it mean anything to you?"

"No," she said with a frown. "I am not aware that this sign is used in any language with which I am familiar. But see how it is slightly set apart from the others? Perhaps it is not a letter at all and is meant to convey something very different."

"Like what?" I asked, dazzled by all the intrigue.

"I have no idea," said Gaelira, "But it may be that things will become clearer when we are standing in the proper spot. We shall have to find the Vault of Durin to begin with, but first I think we could all use a meal and a good rest."

The proposition was welcomed by all and we spent a good while chatting quietly in the dark. We pondered several other theories as to the meaning of the symbols, but we never discovered anything else of much value. Over time, we all began dropping off to sleep, but my head was in a whirl of amazement. The thrill of the chase and the ecstasy of triumph awaited us, if only we could solve the riddle!

The Adventures of Elladan's Outriders -- Episode 59

Into the Black Pit

Mersday, 3rd of Forelithe, Year 1417 Shire-reckoning
Moria, Somewhere Beneath the Misty Mountains

The Doors of Moria

I awoke to find myself being gently nudged. Rolling over, there was Nephyn's smiling face peering at me in the grey light of foredawn.

"What is the time?" I asked her after unleashing a cavernous yawn.

"Minutes before the rising of the Sun," she said softly. "I was wondering if perhaps you would care to join me to see it? It's only a guess, but I think this morning going to be a glorious one."

"That sounds divine," I said, and I meant it, but at the same time I suddenly felt quite depressed: the sobering fact was we were probably only a few short hours away from leaving the outside world behind us -- perhaps forever -- as our quest was leading straight into the darkness of Moria. That long-abandoned Dwarf-kingdom was rumoured to be home to countless Orcs, goblins, trolls... and worse. Still, it seemed the most sensible place for us to begin our search in earnest for the mysterious gondath, the shadow-stones, which could hold the key to Lagodir's full recovery. If there was any chance our finding those stones could bring him healing and banish Guloth the Tormentor from the world forever, then we had to risk that darkness.

The predawn air was chilly and wet with dew despite the approaching summer, so I wrapped my blanket around me as I accompanied Nephyn a little ways to one side of our camp. We perched ourselves together on a low and crumbling piece of the Elf-ruins where we had settled down last night and faced the East. The silhouettes of the Misty Mountains stood black and threatening before us as the light grew behind them, but after a little while it became clear Nephyn's guess was right: even with the dawn proper hidden behind the mountains' shoulders, the sky and clouds were being slowly bathed in the most luminescent colours, the brilliance of which would have made any painter furious at the obvious limitations of their craft to truly capture such magnificence.

"I hope you do not mind my waking you," said Nephyn, interrupting my thoughts. "I know how you hate getting up too early, but it seems a long time since I was able to just sit and enjoy the beauty of nature without fear or worry." I pondered her words for a moment.

"Oh, it's no bother, certainly not to see such a wonderful sunrise as this," I replied. "And I've been getting decent enough rest on this leg of our journey, as a rule, so I'm none the worse for wear. But I can't say I'm without fear or worry after what happened to Luean. I keep wondering if we're going to find ourselves suddenly attacked by that Volfren or some other of Inar's lackeys if we let our guard down. Having two sleepless Elves in your Company certainly helps take the edge off the nighttimes, though."

"That it does," Nephyn agreed, "Though we are now down to only one: apparently Minasse departed for Rivendell several hours ago, but not before revealing his knowledge about Moria's western entrance to Gaelira."

"Ah," I said. "Just like that one to disappear without a proper fare-thee-well, but I suppose I should be grateful; it sounds like we might have never known how to enter Moria if not for his long memory -- even Drodie was doubtful. I can't say I'm nearly as enthusiastic about going there as he is, but at the same time it should help us give Inar's men the slip if any of them are thinking about doing to us what they did to poor Luean."

"You know," Nephyn said after a short pause, "In Bree and the lands roundabout, auburn hair such as mine is often taken as a sign of a fiery temper. Perhaps there is some truth to that, but even the hottest fire will eventually burn itself out. I still mean to see justice done upon Luean's murderers, but after hearing Gaelira's account of Inar and a good night's sleep I find myself open to the possibility that perhaps the Seekers of the Seven Stars were not responsible for our friend's passing. At least, I can entertain the notion we may not have all the facts just yet."

"That seems very sensible," I admitted, "Though it would not hurt for us to keep our eyes peeled, so to speak: whatever Luean was after had him crossing paths with someone who would likely not be friends of ours either."

"True enough, and the last thing I want to do is have my own hot-headedness lead us into such a situation unprepared," she said. "Now that I've found myself a family I also find myself rather unwilling to let go of it. But anyway, none of these things are what I wanted to say to you this morning." My ears perked up.

"I have something for you -- two things, actually." She produced a folded letter from her pocket. "First of all there is this, which I am returning to you. Or, rather, I am willingly permitting you to keep it this time. I don't think I need to tell you what it is." I nodded and blushed as I accepted Nephyn's personal, hand-written account of her family story (so far as it had yet been discovered). I had copied down the original which I found in her chambers during our first stay at Rivendell, and she had later unearthed it from my journal and withheld it when I was incapacitated in Angmar. This had caused a brief schism in our friendship, but considering Nephyn had forgiven my intrusion before I even regained consciousness, I suppose schism might be too strong a word. I sheepishly muttered my thanks and stowed the leaves carefully back within the pages of my journal.

"I really meant to hand it over to you weeks ago, but somehow I never got around to it," she continued. "But I know you will not betray me nor let it be seen by anyone with whom you would not trust that information. The second thing is this." Here, she drew forth an envelope which was stuffed near to bursting with loose pages of parchment. Most of them were blank, but on the beginning leaves I saw line after line of hastily written words, many of which were scratched out, replaced, or moved to other parts of the missive. My eyes began to widen as I read further.

"Neph!" I cried, "Why, this is extraordinary! I had no idea you were so talented."

"Oh, well, it's nothing, really," she said as her ears turned crimson. "But I thought that perhaps you could look it over sometime and let me know what you think? It's obviously not done yet... and I couldn't really say when it will be. No time soon, I hope."

"As do I!" I said with a laugh, "But ought I to be commenting on it now, do you think? Seems to me there is still quite a lot yet to be written. I will give this back into your keeping so you may continue your work, but I promise that you and I will go over it together -- at a more appropriate time." The huntress smiled and accepted the envelope back from me.

"Very well," she said as she tucked it back into her pocket. "But we must set aside all thoughts for the moment: look! The others are up and preparing to move out. We should join them."

I nodded and stood as Nephyn hurried back to the campsite. I made to follow her at first, but then hesitated a moment. I turned around again to look westward, where the rolling plains of Eregion lay before me being gradually and majestically revealed in the growing light. Then, off to my right and out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a shape or a shadow move among a group of large stones. They were at least a good two hundred yards away, though it can be hard to measure distances across flatlands. I squinted and looked again, but there was nothing to see anymore.

"Naught more than a prowling wolf or some other creature I shouldn't wonder," I said to myself. "And the whatever-it-is won't be following us where we're going next anyhow, so no point in alarming the others. Besides, if I don't move my furry feet, I might get left behind!" I scampered back to camp.

It was not long before we had all breakfasted, collected ourselves, and passed under the stone archway which marked the beginnings of the Walls of Moria. We followed an ancient roadway which ran more or less straight on then climbed up a steep set of stairs that were cut into a rock cliff. After much puffing blowing we finally emerged at the top, but then we were brought up short.

"Well! Now we know what became of the Sirannon!" I said with a grim and bitter laugh. We could see the very feet of the mountains some ways ahead, but between us and them lay a broad, cloudy pool. It was inky black, as if it were polluted, and though I was tempted to dip my fingers in and see whether it was actually ink, resisting the temptation wasn't hard for I felt absolutely repulsed by the water. Just off to our right was the dam which had both created the black pool and choked the Sirannon from flowing in its bed down through Hollin. I am no engineer, but the dam looked to me not like anything built by Dwarves or any other sentient being. It didn't even look like the handiwork of goblins: it was little more than a mass of stones, boulders, uprooted trees and other dross which jammed the spillway. Each of us stood pondering how such a thing could have happened.

"I am unsure as to when this came about," said Gaelira in her puzzlement. "It certainly did not look like this the last time I was in Eregion, but that was many, many long years ago."

"At least we know we are in the right place," said Drodie. "I was beginning to have doubts when we found no sign of the river, but seeing this removes any question: the Doors of Durin must lie somewhere on the yonder shore -- if we can find them, for Dwarf-doors are notoriously difficult to locate when shut."

"I think that will be the least of our problems," said Gaelira as she pointed across the lake. "Perhaps your eyes do not see as well as mine, friend Drodie, for the Sun has not yet passed over the mountains to lend us Her light here in the West, but do you mark...?" The Dwarf (and the rest of us) leaned forward, straining our sight.

"I see! I see now!" said Drodie as he clapped his hands. "Gamut! There are the two holly-trees which mark the West-gate of Khazad-dum! They are large and mighty; many a Dwarf has carven their likenesses into beautiful works of iron, stone, and gold. According to every account among my people, the Doors lie between them."

"But how are we to get there?" I asked as I peered across the water. "I know I rarely go near water even in the best of circumstances, but I wouldn't touch this stuff for any money. What are we to do?"

"For once I agree with Padryc on the topic of water," said Nepyhn with distaste. "There is something unnatural about this pool."

"I think," said Gaelira slowly as she looked while shading her eyes with her hand, "That I can see a narrow pathway -- there, along the northern edge. It appears to circle back toward us, but the trail becomes lost among those rocks. Let us retrace our steps and see if we can find the beginnings of the path!"

Descending the stairs was far less difficult than climbing them, so we immediately began searching northward. It did not take long to locate the trail, and very soon we were winding our way up back toward the water. At one point we found ourselves in a little natural dell which proved an ideal spot to break for lunch. Shortly afterward, we emerged on the northern end of the black pool and began to work our way around the edges. By then, even I could clearly see the two holly-trees which were our destination, and they kept getting larger and larger as we drew near. I was in awe of them and their beauty, but all the while I kept sneaking glances over my shoulder at the lake. Everything around us was dead quiet, and it was starting to fray my nerves. I think the others may have felt something similar, for no one said a word until we reached the trees, and even then all speech was hushed.

"Well, here we are," I said in a quiet voice as I gazed unsteadily up at the two massive holly-trees. They looked to me as if they had stood there for hundreds and hundreds of years -- they were easily the largest trees I had ever seen in my life. Their branches spread wide, but between them lay a smooth, blank space of stone. The Sun was now roughly two hours past noon, and she was bathing everything around us so that each leaf of the trees shimmered gladly in her light, yet the surface of the pool remained sullen and unlovely.

"But now what?" whispered Nephyn as she voiced my own thoughts. She also stole a look over her shoulder at the water.

"Now," said Gaelira, "We trust to Minasse's memory of this land when it flowered and blossomed in happier days -- he gave to me the password which he used to enter Moria (with the Dwarves' leave, of course) back when he called Eregion his home." She raised her staff aloft and spoke in a clear and commanding voice:

"Mellon!"

An intricate carven design which appeared to be made of silver flashed briefly on the rock-wall, then it faded again. I tried to trace a copy of it in this journal, but it only appeared for a short time so I can't recall the finer details. Then there was a soft but distinct crack as a line appeared in the stone and two door-panels swung silently open until they laid back against the mountain. A heavy, musty smell flowed out to greet us while we beheld a set of quickly ascending stone steps. The Sun's light did not penetrate beyond that gateway for more than a few feet.

We were all very impressed with our uncovering of Moria's West-gate, but now the time had come for us to leave the world of light behind and willingly enter the darkness of the underworld. Without a word, we each began sorting through our packs to ensure we had everything we might need on such a venture. Gaelira seemed to think it important that we never have more than a single torch or lantern lit at any one time, since we had no idea how long we would have to search the depths of that place to find what we needed. I was just going over the food-stores in my pack when I heard a soft swish and a plop. I looked up to see small rings of water spreading out from near the center of the black pool, and then there came a quiet bubbling sound. Unable to tear my eyes from the lake, I tugged on Nephyn's tunic, as she was next to me.

"Neph!" I whispered, my eyes widening in terror. "I think there's something alive in there." The huntress froze and stared at the water with me.

"Yes," she said in a hoarse voice, "I do believe you're right."

The two of us silently urged the others to make haste inside the doorway, and this was quickly done. Lagodir protested (noiselessly), making signs to show he was unsure whether we would be able to open the doors again from the inside, but Gaelira and Drodie herded us through and closed the gate. The two panels met with only the slightest sound of grating stone: we had entered Moria.

It was utterly dark at first, but Drodie lit a small flame in one of our lanterns. There wasn't much to see at first: behind us were the stairs which climbed up toward who-knew-where while in front of us was the door. Lagodir laid his hands upon it and spoke in the softest voice possible.

"Let us at least try the gate once," he said, "So that we know whether we will be able to escape Moria through the way by which we entered it."

Carefully but firmly, the Gondorian set his shoulder against the stone and pushed. The gate yielded silently to his strength as a stream of daylight penetrated through. We all peered out at the lake, but its surface was once again smooth as polished onyx. Satisfied that we were not trapped, Lagodir closed the gate and Drodie held up his lantern.

"Thus begins our journey in the darkened kingdom of the Dwarves," he said grimly. "May Fate be kinder to us here than it was to the former masters of these halls."

"What was that in the water, do you think?" I asked. I was still whispering, but it was because the hard stone echoed every tiny sound many times over, and all of us knew that Moria itself was still a place of great danger.

"I do not know," said Gaelira, "But whatever it was, I think it was asleep. Or perhaps it did not care to expose itself to the Sun's light. Either way, our arrival at the West-gate in the early afternoon may have been fortuitous, but here beneath the stone it is evernight."

"Thank goodness we came well-supplied," I said. "But, now that we're here, does anyone have any idea where we should start looking for the gondath? And what about Orcs and all that? The stories I've heard said this place was simply teeming with them, but I can't hear a sound in here that isn't coming from ourselves, at least for the moment."

"The Orcs will be a threat, of that you may be sure," said Drodie as he prodded around looking at the walls and their carvings. "They are known to have completely overrun Moria after Durin's Folk were driven from its halls. However, if the histories of my people are anything by which to judge, it was always said they were more numerous on the eastern side -- the side on which Old Moria was built and the Battle of Azanulbizar was fought."

"I see," I said, actually feeling a little relieved. "And will our search be taking us into Old Moria?"

"I doubt anyone could answer that with certainty," Gaelira replied, "Which brings us to your first question: where can we find the gondath? I am afraid I cannot say, assuming any of the gems are here in Moria at all. Perhaps Drodie would have a better idea of where to begin our search." We all looked at the Dwarf, his bearded face illuminated by the flicker of his lamp-light, but he merely grunted and shrugged his shoulders at us.

"I have been thinking about this," said Nephyn. "These shadow-stones were rumoured to be items of great value and power, yes? If that is so and this was indeed the greatest and most advanced of all the Dwarf-kingdoms in the world at one time, then perhaps there would be a record of them somewhere? Is that a possibility, Master Dwarf?"

"By my beard, I do believe the lass could be onto something," said Drodie, and his eyes sparkled with their own inner flame. "The Word-hoard of Durin! Why, anything of any importance -- great or small -- was said to be stored within it. What's more, while the Orcs have no doubt plundered much of my ancestors' home, there's a chance that less valuable things such as scrolls and tomes may have escaped their grasping claws. If these stones ever passed within the walls of Moria I'd say there's a decent chance we will find record of it in that library."

"Brilliant!" I said. "And where do we find it?"

"Haven't the foggiest," Drodie replied, still smiling, "But at least now we know what we're looking for, don't we? Come! Let's be about it -- despite the danger my heart yearns to behold the halls of my forefathers."

"Hold just one moment longer, friend," said Gaelira as she grasped his shoulder. "We should use every precaution: Drodie, you lead the way with your lantern followed by Nephyn, then Padryc. Next I would ask Lagodir to follow the hobbit. We all know the strength of our Gondorian's heart, but we must remember he is also not yet fully recovered. I will bring up the rear."

"As you wish," said Nephyn, "Though it appears I shall have to trust to my sword-arm: it is far too dark and close in here for archery."

We climbed the stairs (two hundred of them -- I counted!) and eventually emerged into what felt like a large chamber. The path we were on was flagged with stone tiles and ran straight, but it was caked with dust and debris of all sorts. We came to a meeting of four ways, but the two side-passages didn't appear to lead anywhere useful, so we continued on the eastward road. That path began to descend and to wind a great deal such that I quickly became confused as to which direction we were facing. It was always difficult to see much, and we often found ourselves doubling back out of dead-ends in order to keep moving forward. There seemed to be nothing around us but open stone-pits and piles of rubble, as if we were in a mine or quarry; it struck me as being a far cry from the grandeur with which Drodie had always spoke of Moria.

After what must have been several hours, we finally came to a point where the path rose steadily. Following this, we discovered ourselves on a broad landing which was surrounded by many carven pillars of stone. By this time, we were all quite tired and even Drodie, who had more cause for excitement than the rest of us, agreed to a rest. It was, of course, impossible to know what time of the day or night it might have been, but by the rumblings of my stomach I suspected it was high time for supper.

Our meal was cold, quiet, and uneventful. No one spoke a word for fear of betraying our presence, but we were still able to communicate through signs and writing. In this way, we agreed to a halt and to sleep while Gaelira would keep the watch. We all bundled up very nearly on top of each other in order to keep within the lantern's tiny circle of light, but I must admit it did make me feel a little safer, too. When everyone was settled in we doused the lantern and total darkness swallowed us. I lay awake for quite some time yet as every drip of water, crack of stone, and rattle of debris made my heart skip. Eventually, however, the constant and rhythmic breathing of my companions lulled me to sleep.