((A small tale depicting many of the dwarves of Durin's folk and some of the elves of Loth-I-lonnath, who have had the greatest of fun defending ered luin together from what threatens their ancient homes!))
It was early spring as the dwarves of Duinn trudged over the icy paved roads, long laid out many generations ago by their ancestors. The sun shone a cold light in the misty vale of Thrain, as the echoes of their boots, trampling and cracking a last layer of fallen snow, could be heard.
There was a great silence among the ranks. Beards that weren't slid beneath thick armored belts, waved like tattered and wet rags, as did the dwarves their blue tabards, proudly displaying which dwarf of Durin's descendants was served. Gruff breathing sounded from behind some helmets with visors. Marching in the rear, Asudrom, his fair beard jingling wildly with jewellery and iron plates braided in it, stuffed his beneath his belt aswell, his helmet was taken from his head by a big hand, he slung it backward, it kept hanging behind his head, resting on the large pack he was carrying. He pierced from beneath his eyebrows with a grumpy-looking gaze at those around him, most dwarves mirrored his own expression as the weather hadn't been very kind when they set off. He could see those closest to his. There was Thorlaen, a calm dwarf with a bright orange beard, a veteran of war and showing much promise to one day be a great lord himself, with some little luck perhaps. Odsi, a young dwarf, shown due to his short coalblack beard, the dwarf had been swigging from his flask relentlessly and it was to be expected something else then water was to be found within. Asudrom looked to the other side of the column, Hanfur, a white beard mirroring that of Duin himself, keeping up with the younger dwarves with no apparant trouble, the epitome of dwarven endurance one may say, he was followed in line by Barkgrim, a dwarf who makes no secret of his displeasure with elves, his beard a fiery dark red, matching his temperament, carrying the largest axe of the company, which was to say something. Asudrom looked behind himself, for a moment he smiled beneath his beard, there walked Silfrun, followed by a watching Kveltrild, both had some more refined beards. Silfrun, a fine orange with some fair streaks in them, as if she had plucked parts from Asudrom's beard and had hung them there. Kveltrild mirrored more the comparison of jewellery, some surpassing beauty of his own. He looked in front again, they were still stepping onwards, then suddenly the voice of Thogen could be heard, the broadest dwarf carrying a very thick layer of armor compared to the others, his beard was dark, though is voice was clear and deep, "Company, halt!" The dwarves stomped a final time on the ground and halted, they all looked up, chests puffing up and hands were placed on the shafts of axes, swords, spears and thick bows in an idle gesture.
Ahead stood Byl, with his son Byli, both mirror images of eachother, aside the father having a few more lines in the eyes. They stood rooted on a small hill, behind lay a small dwarven outpost, not an outpost of timber, requiring replacement after fifty years of service no! This was a dwarven outpost, meaning blocks of granite carefully placed to become what men would rather call a sturdy barracks. They all looked up at Byl, his short orange beard dripped with water as if he had just came out from below a waterfall, Byli wasn't much better off. "Fall out and prepare to make camp!", Byl said with calm authority, "Ten volunteers to dig a grapple and place stakes, we'll have no place within Noglond itself!" Asudrom smiled at that order, while several dwarves stepped up with shovels and pickaxes. Some others grumbled either in confusion or because they knew why they wouldn't be sitting inside the building around a comfy fire.
"Elvish lord at your service!", Asudrom bowed and smiled. "How fare your kin at the havens?" Before the dwarf stood Curugirion, a serene and pleasant elf, his hair a grey adorned with a crown of pearls or twigs, he couldn't say. The elf bowed in return, respecting the dwarven costum, but he spoke not the befitting words, the dwarf took no offense. "We fare as good as any can be in these times, let us hope that it shall remain so for a while yet. Well then we have been here for an amount of time, a few days after the lord Alvhar has set forth upon Sarnûr. We should perhaps consider to take action with greatest of haste!" Asudrom lowered a brow, it wasn't common for elves to be so indirectly direct. What Curugirion means when speaking to Asudrom isn't known unless one has more knowledge of the past between the both of them, what he basically meant was. "It's good meeting you friend, but time is short, your kinsman Alhvar has already set forth upon the enemy with too few dwarves and I've been risking my own to make sure they are still breathing!" "Well then.. " Asudrom answered flat and direct himself..
Outside Korgard was digging for all his worth, sweating despite the cold, his beard (about as black as Odsi's, though not being close relatives) besmudged with muck, grumbled a little, looking up at the elves that have come closer and looked at him with some slight amusement and wonder. "If you have come to laugh at honest work, then I suggest you go do it some place else elven masters!", he stuck his shovel in the hard ground, leaning against it for a short while.. behind him, Floringski and Kerdrin were still shovelling at great speed. "Do not be offended fine dwarf!", Aearandir was the elf speaking, though they didn't knew eachothers' names at the time, "We were merely marvelling at the ability of dwarves to bury themselves in as quick as moles, though dwarves have the tendency to forget the roof!" The others behind him giggled a little. Korgard pinched an eye shut and pointed a stubby finger, "Elves must know many things, watching upon another's work, like old owls that appear in the woods every night, casting their eyes on the business of others while hooting." The elves spoke no more, though their smiles didn't fade either way. They brushed their silver hauberks and spoke to eachother in hushed tones as Korgard continued his work.
Meanwhile near the only door of the outpost, Thogen stood watch, unmoving like a boulder that had decided to halt right there and then after a long tumble. Hanfur and Alfnar approached him, "Here have something to warm the bones. Hanfur offered Thogen a bowl of soup, the broad dwarf took it with a bow of his head, then opened his mouth and let it all pour in. Alfnar's eyes went wide and holding the spoon he was about to give in his hand. "Many thanks Hanfur, just what I required, I shall be glad to be back home with a pipe in hand aswell." Hanfur took the bowl again, he quitely nodded his head up at the door. "Discussions are still ongoing?" Thogen nodded in turn. Alfnar came to it and knocked it several times, "Well I assume that if they don't open they'll still be talking." From the now placed tents Barkgrim could be heard, "Elves and their friends eh!" The others didn't respond, they were very neutral so far on their alliance with the elves.
It wasn't untill a few hours later they had left the room, the elves went inside for rest, the dwarves made camp, far away the sounds of goblins screaming could be heard, mixed with the voices of angry dwarves. Thorlaen stood watching near the newly dug pit, face in the mountain's direction, Rofi and Brawnae stood with him. "Tis going to be tomorrow isn't it?", Brawnae said softly. Thorlaen nodded, Rofi just silently watched, his thumb stuck between his teeth. "Wonder what we'll find there.", Brawnae continued, "They speak of horrid beasts lurking in the deeps there and there's also us fighting dwarves, I'm not sure if I could lift my axe up against one." Thorlaen didn't let his gaze falter, he simply responded, "Remember that they chose to side with goblins, they have threatened the Longbeards and they have took it upon themselves to defile Kheledul and Sarnûr, stealing what they could from traders and merchants." They all fell silent.
--
The next morning there was a great commotion in the vale of Thrain, facing in the direction of the stairs leading to Sarnûr there the dwarven host assembled, ranks upon ranks of dwarves, klad in fine mail and some plated armor, covered with blue hauberks. Broad blades, axes and spearpoints reflected the light towards the tops of the mountains and every single of the dwarves that could had their beards stuck under their armored belts as was costum for the Longbeards. In the center of the line Byl positioned himself as leading officer, his son not too far behind him. Asudrom calmy inspected the company of the elderbeards, (a term used for the more battle-grizzled dwarves) gazing at every single dwarf to make sure their equipment was in perfect order. A bit further Thorlaen did so with the broadbeards, (those that would have seen a fair share of battle) and Khlosi, protectively making sure the unexperienced were ready, despite it not being his task to do so! Byl gazed to his right and left.. To the flanks elves of the Flower had positioned themselves, all armed with long oval shields and javelins. They had been used to deadly effect before.Then he raised his axe, a broad arm raised out of the mass of helmed heads, "Khazâd!", he roared with a deep voice! "Ai-menûuuu!", dozens of voices from all sides replied. Curugirion nodded to one of his companions and there one took up a horn, letting out a highpitched musical sound. Then they started marching!
Muck and snow flew in all directions as broad armored boots stomped over the hard ground. From an elven point of view it may have been almost comical to see the short figures swaying their shoulders left and right with each step, particulary compared to their own more refined movement, though surprisingly they had more difficulty to keep up then initially expected. The elves were no less protected then their dwarven allies, though in their own way, a true fearsome image they made, tall silver helmets with thin visors, perfectly placed layers of steel over steel with another layer of chainmail below, their own symbol adorning their gear where it was possible. They swayed in the sidelines as waves of the sea, bending forward and backward as the terrain threatened to divide them from eachother, their javelins raised constantly with practiced ease. So the army of both elf and dwarf marched onwards. Though perhaps the elves wouldn't admit it themselves, but the speed of the dwarven folk caught them offguard for the merest moment as Byl raised his arm once more in the marching company, "Fast march!" The final sprint before the clash had started, ahead lay the ruined stairs carved in the mountain, panicking goblins rushing upwards away from the arriving threat, throwing whatever they could in the way to make their escape.
Asudrom looked up at what lay ahead, he seemed as pleased as possible under the circumstances, for the earlier battles with goblins in the woodlands paid off, before them lay but a small horde of the vile creatures and they wouldn't prove to be a great challenge after all.
"Sigin!", Byl yelled! With his axe raised, the younger dwarves answered with a carefull but spirited Tarâg!" Suddenly from all over the ranks the warcry was mirrored! "Draw weapons! Draw weapons!", more voices roared. It was at that time the full splendour of the dwarven troop came to show, sturdy steel was drawn, a small forest of long-axes and large clubs suddenly erupted where before there were only a few to see. So did the dwarves sprinted up the small stairs, barricades were easily torn away by mighty hews and so far no goblin had dared to raise a sword just yet! The dwarves were enthusiastic, already believing that they'd carry the day, though among the elves the wiser ones were cautious, some sharing worried glances before looking around them. They filed in as they went up the stairs behind the last dwarves, helmets waving left and right anxious for the goblin's hammer to fall.
It wasn't until they had reached the very door of Sarnûr, a large goblin, or rather, larger then his kin screamed madly at the dwarves in it's own tongue with a mob behind him. The dwarves halted and reformed! The large gate to the mountainhall was open! A better chance they couldn't get! Curugirion looked up, hoping to understand what he may from the leader's babbling, though he didn't get much of a chance, without uttering a single word, so did Khlosi grab his bow and arrow, landing a shaft in the leader's head. With a cheer and laughter the dwarves rushed in, shields raised and trampling over the goblins without having to bloody any of their weapons. Though it died out pretty quick upon entering, the large halls of Sarnur lay before them, dozens of dwarves with evil faces and ill-cared for beards stared at them silently, they were taken by surprise for most weren't full armed, but nonetheless most were still well equipped. Then one of them stepped forward, large hammer in his arms and greeted Durin's folk.
"Kinfolk!", he said, "Glumir son of Glugir, at your service!", he bowed and continued his features old and mischievous, though a warmth could be seen in the dwarf's eyes as if he was genuinely happy to see the armed host enter, "Why the brandished blades?! Are we not dwarves also? Perhaps it's common among Durin's folk these days to walk in the halls of their brethren with hostility. Is it perhaps your allegiance with elves that has misguided your capable hands and raise blades to those you should embrace as brothers!?"
For a moment a spark of doubt erupted among some of the dwarves, after all it wasn't untill recently that they befriended the elves they suddenly were told to strike fellow dwarves, perhaps it was all a scheme? Perhaps Duinn son of Munin had lost his way? The elves remained quiet while listening, some already looking with slight dismay at the suspicious glances they were getting from the younger dwarves.
Asudrom raised his voice in answer, "We've come bearing arms against the enemies of Durin's folk! We could not help but notice that orcs lurked in the stairs to Sarnûr for too long, despite dwarves living near them and doing nothing even after the countless roberries on the road!"
"Yes! Yes ofcourse and we commend you for your skill in vanquishing these creatures, but can the master be blamed if the dog bites those that step too close to the front door? Espescially if those nearing it have not been invited nor expected?!"
"A dog usually is learned by it's master and more fool the master would be to keep a dog that can not be trusted, for sooner or later those bitten would come display their protest!"
Glumir's face showed a hint of hesitation for a moment his brow creasing to find a good reply, he eventually rubbed his beard as if in question, "But you've vanquished the evil from the doorstep and with that done, should you now not be content enough, Asudrom second son of Hjontind?", then he continued with a menacing tone underneath his deep voice, "After all I know who you are and what you have done. Convince your companions to leave, or they shall hear of your exploits!"
The dwarves looked curiously, Asudrom himself not in the least, he answered, "Your tongue waggles like a dying serpent! Wriggling and curling in every direction to buy what time yet may remain before the end Glumir son of Glugir! I shall not have myself questioned by an orc-friend!"
That remark straightened most dwarves out of their doubt, casting eager eyes upon the Dourhands. Blaming them for even making doubt their lords at all!
Glumir stepped back, but menace could be seen on his face clear as day now, "Orc-friend?! High words of the mighty Asudrom, befriending elves and slaying fellow dwarves! Why you have outstayed your welcome, aswell do your friends here if they side with you! Begone before I shall make sure you do so wether on your accord or not!" Then did the old dwarf grab a horn and let out a long blast on it before vanishing in the ranks of his troops, in the back repulsive roaring could be heard and loud breathing followed by footsteps that echoed in the underground hall.
For the first time Istuir raised his voice, "Ai! Betrayal they have trolls!" Asudrom grumbled, "They've fooled us as if we were a bunch of newborns." Byl spoke up again, "Prepare for battle, shields raised, fire at will!" Within the blink of an eye the dwarves who had any, raised their shields, the entire first line and a good portion of the second looked like a solid wall of steel with weapons sticking out of it, the elves already stood prepared, javelins raised over their shoulders.
"I shall give master Alhvar your regards, folk of Durin! While you exercise, he shall be waiting upon your arrival in our humble hospitality!" As the old dwarf finished his speech, he barked an order, the groups of dwarves and goblins that had chained the trolls now broke or released the chains, a dozen of the mighty snowtrolls of yore! Old horrors from the days when Arnor, the fallen realm of men still bloomed. They roared and screamed, breathing madly and swinging a few of their masters into the air untill they were bullied forwards by jagged spears and cruel whips, the monsters pounded their heavy feet, the marbled floor rumbled as if a writhing beast. Some of the dwarves eyed the oncoming beasts, having fear in their hearts, though not for their lives. Asudrom heard the call of an order in elven, in less then a heartbeat arrows flew through the hall, trollflesh was pierced , but only one of the beasts fell as it's eye got pierced, it screamed in a panic, not understanding what was happening to it. The other beasts were a stonethrow away now, more arrows flew over dwarven heads. Khlosi raised his hand without much words, he drew his bow and as he did, so did several others, thick shafts flew, another two beasts fell, but then it was too late for another volley.
With gruesome and sickening strength the beasts tore into the dwarven ranks, behind the onslaught the moving horde of dourhands and goblins came forward. Skarri blinked momentarily as one of his companions was swept off by a trollish club, bravely he fell in line and chopped with quiet persistance at the thing's legs, expecting any moment to be hurled skywards himself, then before he knew, the beast was felled, a great spear was still stuck in it's throat, he smiled and raised up his axe, breathing deeply at the excitement of it all!
Not much further away did brave Byl jump forth from the line with Byli right behind him, their dwarven brothers calling out to them to come back in line, but with no thought of self-preservation they threw themselves at two beasts, Byl ran and jumped between the legs of the trolls who wildly bashed and clubbed in all directions, Byli yelped as he got grabbed, kicking and struggling to get free.. Alfnar looked up, his knees somewhat shaky, he had never felt much for fighting, let alone against these things, and now he was to fall in line and die heroically on top of it! Not if he had anything to do with it, so did he pick up a javelin that fell before him earlier, he took it up and stuck it in the armpit of the troll that held Byli up, he grinned in victory as suddenly Byli fell on top of him..
Eventually after a few horrible minutes that never seemed to end the last troll was felled by mighty dwarven arms and a few well aimed javelins and arrows. Though there was no cheering just yet, with barely a moment to breathe, Byl rose from the troll he had slain and aimed his axe at the dourhands and goblins who were still marching steadily and reluctantly. "Fight! Dwarves of Durin! Take no prisoners!", he yelled! And the echo of the trampling feet and roaring of the terrible clash that followed would be remembered by the survivors untill the end of their days. Evading their fallen and wounded brethren both armies bore the brunt of their strength upon eachother, now the line was fully deployed and the elves, not quite as eager to charge in wildly, followed the signals send by the horn given nonetheless.
Goblins tore and hacked desperately trying to get out of their predicament as their kind behind pushed them into the reach of dwarven weaponry, Alfiriel an elvish lady struck a dourhand in the neck, feeling a great pity and already wondering perhaps if this dwarf really wasn't just misguided by his masters, her elven brothers and sisters around her stabbed and struck with a quiet mechanical persistance, some likey pondering the same thoughts, then the initial press of the bodies upon the line came and there was no time for thinking anymore as she hid behind her shield..
Asudrom quietly held his shield raised, unwavering in his grip, half-distracted by the actual battle two ranks in front of him. He glanced at the situation around, he turned his looks over his shoulder once more, for a moment his gruff expression softened as he saw Silfrun, being very young and very much impressed by the battle awaiting nervously for when the time to strike would come, Kveltrild behind stood over Silfrun protectively, giving a reassuring wink at Asurom. He nodded back and turned his attention on the battle again..
Curugirion quietly (and perhaps a little smug) regarded the fight as disgusting in it's nature, but nonetheless a little tentalising, or so he admitted to himself he found it as much. He had seen his fair share and this time it was no different then any other, Nothing is half as melancholy as a battle won, then a battle lost. He let out a weary sigh, his guard around him awaiting an order to go forward, twitched at the gesture, edged on by the danger in waiting. "It seems the left flank has already begun, give the signal and drive away the darkness!", with another highpitched horn so did the lord of Loth-I-Lonnath charge off into battle!
----
As the battle proceded so did the line falter and push back forth, Aearandir an elf excelling in bravery over most of his kin, encouraged his comrades. He looked onwards, certain that he would make his lord proud as always has been one of his priorities in his long life! Not far from him he could see the dwarves fighting one another, he knew of dwarven strength and their stuborness was one of the traits they all shared, though truly catastrophic it was to behold, bellowing the vilest of curses at eachother as they hacked and tore wildly. He looked back in front of him, right in time to evade a poisoned goblin's knife, he stabbed forward at the screeching little monster, "Fight on!", he yelled reassuringly.
Not too far from the elves, Thogen hammered his way through the foe's ranks, with destructive blows he pierced armor and shield and even the Dourhands facing him were swept off their feet as he went through them, ahead he could see Asudrom, standing over a fallen dwarf, he was easy enough to recognise as he wielded both Barkâl ukhdaf, the axe in his left hand and Laegrist, a long elven blade in his right. The dwarf at his feet crawled weakly behind the dwarven general as he swung the elven sword forward while blocking and hooking incoming blades with the axe, cursing while trying to keep the large number he was facing on his own away. Thogen rushed to aid him, knowing that Asudrom's death would be a grievous blow to morale, pushing away what stood in his path he arrived in time to headbut a goblin that snuck for Asudrom's back, on the other side a dwarf named Bullbeard by his friends had seen the situation aswell, they stood a small island in a river of chaos all around them for a long while as the battle lasted.
The elves Istuir and Hwetlenn systematically stabbed forward with their spears where they could, the experienced Istuir being covered by his younger squire at every moment, arrows of goblins flew overhead and so far he had felt the thud of seeking needles perhaps four or five times already on his shield and helmet. He was not to pleased to see the shield of his companion, her courage was evident, but so was her luck in case she didn't yet notice the shaft sticking loosely in her shoulderguard. Several more Dourhands made attempt on their lives, with a wild jump back to give himself some space to stab he fought on.
In the back Lyndri and Khlosi fired thick dwarven arrow after another, where before the dwarves merely shot barely aimed volley after volley the time had come for the more experienced archers to pick off targets, Lyndri released a shot, a large goblinleader fell back to be trampled by the mass of kin pushing on from behind it. Khlosi wiped some sweat from his brow with his arm, he shut one eye and his arrow flew straight and true, a Dourhand roaring with anger and fear as a shaft was stuck in his belly sank to his knees.
Karlaug and Hanfur, fought side by side in the line of the dwarven infantry, Karlaug grunted as he cleaved forward to keep a distance between him and his foes, his helmet was gone and his matted black hair was stuck in a red bleeding gash in his forehead, he leaned his head to the side as the blood and sweat threatened to run in his eyes, next to him Hanfur hacked and kicked with great vigour and power for one his age, he sliced a goblin's ear off before batting it with the fist of his other hand in the cheeck, it collapsed while clutching it's face!
Finally though it seemed that the dwarves of Duinn were to break through, foes in the backlines started to waver and break ranks, it was not untill Thorlaen commanded the reserve of dwarves to go forward that a full panic broke out, along with Barkgrim both the dwarves took up their axes and cleaved with impressive hews, many a foe in front of them lost atleast one part of his anatomy, in that final gruesome display of battleprowess, as these two with the reserve of dwarves (and the elves still able to pursue the foe) mowed down anything before them that tried to flee and eventually cast a great number of them into the deep chasms below, the first battle of Sarnûr was done!
It is not with much happiness that both sides would remember the battle, for many friends were lost for both dwarf and elf. None that did not participate in the battle from the start were unharmed as a result and many healers rushed over the field to aid those they could. Aearandir and Istuir both came to Curugirion, they looked as tall and splendid beacons of pride as their leader smiled upon them. For a while they stood there, gasping for breath and smiling despite their many sores, it was not untill they looked upon their dwarven allies their smiles dropped.
Asudrom stood over the broken remains of his shield, completely crimson, healers surrounded him on all sides as many dwarves came to their general in desperate aid and fierce loyalty during the battle. He sheathed both his elven blade and his axe, he helped a dwarf up and handed him over to Skarrin, who seemed sturdy on his feet still.
"Show them.", Asudrom said gruffly and wheezing. It was not soon after a column of Dourhands were brought before him, at a quick count it must have been about forty or more all put on their knees, glaring at their captors. Then he spoke; "You have all waged crimes on the Free peoples of Ered Luin, from theft, to murder! Sided yourselves with orcs and trolls! You have forsaken the dwarven fathers! What have you to say for yourselves?!" For a moment nothing could be heard aside the complaining of the wounded over the field, then some of the Dourhands looked up.. "We have but been loyal to our lord and our kin!" "We are not the traitors who deal with elven kind!" "We but defend what we own!" So the responses were. Asudrom looked at them all, some merely looked to the ground, others remained defiant and a few were fighting back tears from the looks of it. He breathed deeply and the weariness was lifted from his voice,"I brand you all orc-friends! Bandits on the roads! Cutthroats! And kintraitors! May the Maker have mercy upon you all!"
The elves sighed with some relief, or atleast a few did, for a mere moment they had expected an order to be given to execute the dwarves were they knelt. A few of the elves already stepped forth to intervene if this was to be the case, for nothing aside orcish captives were treated as such. Then their eyes widened and some let out wails of dismay and horror!
"You have been dealt with in mercy, Dourhands!", so did Hanfur speak. Then Asudrom nodded to a grim Thogen and a pleased Barkgrim. The Dourhands spoke no longer and now most were looking at the floor or openly weeping, no defiant look remained. Then the elven wails could be heard, as all the dwarves of Duinn's company around the captives hewed off heads or stabbed into chests. The deaths were quick and painless, but the bodies were left alone once the deed was done. Barkgrim and Thogen patted eachother being rather pleased with the sight.
The brutal antics left Curugirion a little off guard, Asudrom approached him, he bowed deeply and with the kindness of his own he had always shown the elves. "The first battle is done! Let's see to the wounded and the dead and think of our next move once we have erected an encampment, our reserve of dwarves is still able for the task and we shall send some to aid your kin if required!" The elven lord bowed graciously in return, not openly daring to ask what the executions were about among so many that may take offense. "We shall first see to our comrades and then find a place to set our tents under the advice of your officers."
Many songs sounded that night and it was a while yet before they would venture deeper into those halls, barricades were put up and a small train of goods were brought in from Noglond and Thorin's hall into the large warcamp. The dwarves were in the best of spirits even though most still avoided the elves. The elves themselves though were pleased by the victory, but somehow taken aback by the aftermath. The figures sat quietly around a flaming brazier that was given to them by Odsi and Silfrun, two of the more younger and more gentle-hearted of the dwarven troops.
They accepted the kind gesture politely even though they were not cold and without uttering a word it may well as have been yelled by seeing their expressions. "What are we dealing with here?" And it was not all that sure they meant the many horrors lurking deeper beneath Sarnûr's dark places.
