After two days of trudging through what seemed like and endless nightmare of destroyed passages and rough hewn caves, Xanderian and Cyndwin finally come to more intact, habitable areas and what seemed to be the ruins of an ancient library, stacked high with the sad remains of books and papers, now dark with mildew and blood. The forgotten testimonies were scattered through the wreckage of a once richly decorated chamber, the stonework still showing the skill and artistic flair of the Dwarven masons long ago.
After a brief but gruesome battle with a small tribe of Caveclaws and a loathsome insect the size of a pony that Xanderian explained to the young Shieldmaiden was called a "Spitter", the Elleth sat on a pile of ancient tomes as Cyndwin eagerly examined the delicate designs etched into the stone walls and benches, as always entranced by the beauty of the past.
As Cyndwin explored, Xanderian looked up at the vaulted ceiling and spoke. "Welcome to the Chamber of Wisdom my love..one of the three great scholarly libraries of the Great Delving. This used to be the repository of all mining and ore records for every shaft, pit and dank hole of Moria. Therefore I am sure you can imagine how busy and important this chamber once was...now, it is simply yet another breeding ground for filth. However we should be able to spend the night here in relative comfort and privacy, and make the Dolven View in the morning."
Cyndwin looked up and smiled, at not only the prospect of rest, but also comfort and privacy. It seemed every time she turned around a dwarven face was staring up at her from waist level, demanding she go do some other loathsome task. Goat Droppings? Seriously? What next?
As the two prepared their bedding and something to eat, a great clatter arose from outside the chamber and a young dwarf tumbled into the library followed by a goblin assuming it had found an easy kill once he ran it down. The goblin was wrong. Instead it was soon sent on its way with a swing of the blonde's halberd, much to the gratitude of the exhausted dwarf who introduced himself (in somewhat broken common speech) as Bern, Son or Berin as he bowed with great formality, much to Cyndwin's amusement and awkward giggles.
After some awkward chit chat (discussing the weather in Moria is always a bit complex) the young Dwarf kept having his eye drawn helplessly to Heartbreaker, the bow glowing across Xanderian's back...and after working up some courage, he finally managed to blurt out "You be the Khala Zander who bears it? May Bern see the H'rath Karcum?"
After giving it some thought, the huntress slowly slipped the massive bow off her back and held it out to the dwarf who suddenly seemed more than a little reluctant to touch it, instead simply studying the glowing blue shapes tracing endlessly along it's curved length, the indigo fire dancing like blood pumping. After making several impressed noises, and growing more and more nervous the longer he gazed at the bow, the young Dwarf finally bowed and took his formal leave of "Zander and her Aza, Limula Khazush" as he said before bowing at least a dozen times, walking out of the library backwards and clattering away with quite a story to tell his clan mates, apparently.
Once that distraction was gone, Cyndwin returned to poking through the piles of records as Xanderian stoked up the fire again.
However the ruined records of the past did not hold the girl's attention for long and finally turning back to watch the elf, she smiled slowly.."I used to worry that to you, to all the elves and dwarves really, we Rohirrim must seem like children...making up tales and riding off to our little wars, barely out of our cradles! But now...you my Rian still fill me with wonder but I trust that...I feel that I am your Aza as you said and if that is true the rest matters not a whit! But now, I have learned that you are a legend!"
Xanderian shook her head, smiling but her eyes far away. "No my love...I am of little matter, yet I am entrusted with a legend. Heartbreaker. They call her H'rath Karcum...DeathSlayer, though she calls herself Lilta yet I have never heard another creature call her so and I certainly would not dare. During my second time in Moria I was in service to my kindred at Gwathrendath, an encampment created by the Lady Galadriel deep in the heart of Moria, the place called in the Common speech The Foundations. A place of fetid darkness and endless horror. There are things that abide in the Foundations that are older then time, horrible nameless things that the mind can barely admit are real let alone understand."
Cyndwin stared, her hand touching Xanderian's shoulder by instinct as she continued, the Elleth's eyes farther away still and voice hollow..."They move along the Endless Stair and the hidden chambers where only shadow dwells like death itself, or worse than death, serving Lords older and darker then our Foe could dream of being. These were the creatures I did battle with to defend my Masters and those few brave dwarves who struggle still to explore those halls, these were what awaited, smiling in anticipation, when I went into the fetid heart of Dar Narbugud and slew the horrid Blind One and The Mistress of Pestilence, though evil such as that can not truly die and ever returns. Even now there are things that happened there, deeds I did there, sights that I saw there...that I will not remember. I simply will not. Once I emerged from that stinking, crawling hell, soaked in blood of both friend and foe I was near insensible for days. When I came back to myself again, I learned that those few dwarves who had survived with me had given Heartbreaker a new name in their own speech and the legend of H'rath Karcum has grown still larger amongst them since."
The huntress swallowed hard as if putting the memories behind her again with effort. "To the Iron Garrison I am Khala Zander, Zander the Elf for that is how they pronounce Xanderian, and I wield H'rath Karcum in the service of the light. And you are now called by the youth of the Iron Garrison Limula Khazush, "Golden Sister", my Aza."
The two fell silent after that. They ate while holding hands but without speaking, each lost in their own thoughts or memories. The only sound was Heartbreaker, singing softly to the darkness.
