Limani of Middle-Earth
Chapter I: Moria and the awakening.
Limani's Point of View.
Many years must have passed since she had fallen asleep. She could no longer hear the sounds of life from the caverns above. Not a sound, only the ageless smell of death. Moving quickly across the stone floor towards the gaping cavern door, she swept through it quietly. Stopping briefly to see the skeletal bodies of the once friendly dwarves of Moria, all dressed for battle, making her wonder what had happened.
Suddenly a loud cry alerted her to the group moving swiftly through the great cavernous hall. Edging towards the group, keeping to the shadows, she crept closer, the sight that greeted her was that of an old friend, now an elderly man all in grey with a long gnarled walking stick, he stood holding a thick yellowing book covered in a thick layer of dust, reading aloud to the rest of the group standing around listening quietly to his words, their eyes darting around for enemies, she took note of where each of them stood.
The closest of whom was a man with dark hair greying slightly in parts he was dressed in dark colours to blend better with his surroundings reminding her of the rangers of old, for a brief moment she thought she recognised him but quickly shook the feeling off.
Another man stood near him, they were discussing something in hushed tones, this man was dressed in clothes that were once fine but travel had worn them down; a fine chain-mail piece beneath a leather overcoat and a red velvet under-shirt were all proof of his nobility, his blonde hair wild and hanging down into his eyes.
The next being she took note of was kneeling next to the tomb in the centre of the room, a dwarf grieving for his lost kin, he was dressed similarly to the man, with a shirt of chain-mail and leather overcoat with two belts coming across his chest, his beard was long and red with clan beads plaited into it, his hair was matted and covered by a helm.
The next group she was curious about, they looked like children, only a little rounder and had faces of grown men, two had dirty-blonde hair, another had light brown, and the last had dark brown. Three stood together and the fourth, the smallest with dirty-blonde hair, was standing near a crumbling well staring at a skeleton with a bucket, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Slinking quietly up to the old man pulling out a long, sharp silver hair pin, she grabbed him from behind, placing the silver pin against the point the artery passes through.
"It's been awhile Istar you've got sloppy in your old age." She said quietly, startling the others around them, the elf moving swiftly notched an arrow on his bow and had it pointing at her, the men and the little folk had their hands on the pommel of the blades, the dwarf had a throwing axe ready. "Tell them to stand down Istar, you don't want them getting hurt now, do you?" a grunt of disbelief came from the direction of the dwarf, Istar however motioned for their weapons to be put away.
"They would not be drawn to such measures… if you did not enjoy surprising an old friend…" She dropped her hands to her side as Istar turned to face her chuckling "Limani."