Chapter 6

I believe that first impressions are vitally important. The beginning dictates the feeling that lingers throughout an entire visit. These are my first impressions of Moria: It's dark, and it smells bad.

While Gandalf fumbled with his glorified stick, we wandered heedlessly into the abyss. I have a strong suspicion that this is not going to be in the least bit fun.

As the light flickered on and poked into the hidden corners, my second impression was thus: Dwarf corpses – very dead, very… decomposed dwarf corpses. About the only promise this was living up to was the alcohol: I'm very certain I was smelling the beer that had probably soaked the fronts of every beard that surrounded us. What a lovely thought.

My third impression was; who was responsible for ridding the world of so many dwarves? Aside from the smell – and the mess – whoever it was should be given a medal.

The reek and fear are making me callous. I am saddened to see so much wasted life…Really. Honestly. I am!

I recovered from the shock of surrounding-death first. Then something caught my eye – a mangy arrow protruding from the chest of the nearest dwarf corpse. In a moment of true masculinity, I deftly ripped the projectile out of its home, examined it, hurled the disgustingly dirty thing away from me, then whipped out my bow and notched an arrow with a snarled, "Goblins!"

In case you are wondering, Goblins are a particularly nasty breed of Orc. They are small, live underground in enormous colonies and are basically the Orcish Spider-Ant. Not pleasant, not nice, and that's what was responsible for all the carnage. Considering the rate of decomposition, they had more than likely infested all of Moria by this time.

Oh, goody.

I come for the drunken dwarf orgies, but I stay for the homicidal Goblin hordes.

The many charms of Moria.

Everyone over five feet had taken my exclamation to heart. In the second most masculine moment that cave has probably ever seen, the men and dwarf drew their weapons and glared into the darkness. Boromir, fulfilling his roll of Captain-Point-Out-The-Obvious, yelled,

"We should never have come here! We must leave! Make for the Gap of Rohan!"

Thank you for telling me exactly what I've known all along!

Frodo now looked as though he might be sick. It was the realization that he had gotten us into this potentially disastrous situation kicking in that was the cause…Or the huge, slimy tentacle that had grabbed him and preceded to drag him towards the water.

Yeah, I'm going with that one.

O.K. so maybe Aragorn had a good reason to bite Merry's head off about the rocks.

The experienced warriors among us (myself most particularly included) charged after him and the other hobbits – all of whom had been closer to him and were already at the water's edge doing some sort of ritualistic scared-shitless dance.

The humans bounded into the water, swords blazing. Gimli tramped in too, but as he could only go in about three feet, he wasn't much help. He bellowed ferociously, though. If the thing had had ears, it might have quivered with fear…Or flattened him with one blow. Which ever.

Gandalf looked concerned, but did nothing to assist us – aren't we the hero.

I took up doing what I do best; shooting icky things with astonishing accuracy. (Well, second best. I do…something else, best.)

Valar! I need help! Snap out of it Legolas! Pay attention to what's going on!

Frodo dangled a good fifty feet in the air, suspended by his ankle. The giant, ugly monster heaved its ugly head out of the water. It opened it's gaping, fanged mouth to drop the tiny morsel – and the One-Ring – into it. The men were hacking through tree trunk-sized tentacles, but the beast was unfazed! That is, until I shot it squarely in the eye. The thing with a never-ending supply of arms dropped Frodo and retreated under the water.

Oh! Who's good?! Who's the prince?!

Captain Heroic-But-Not-As-Much-As-Aragorn caught the little fellow as he flew through the air. Point for Mirror-Man. I'm a good sport, after all.

I did not get proper time to savor my greatness as the creature chose to come at us yet again, this time with full force. Dozens of massive tentacles burst out of the water at us. There was only one thing to do.

We tucked tail and ran for the mines as fast as we could! How courageous! How noble! How incredibly stupid…

Being too big to get in after us, the slimy thing settled for pulling all the rocks around the entrance down on top of the door.

It was pitch black. And we were stuck.

Shit.

No! Ugly monster come back! Kill me, maul me, but don't leave me in here with these idiots! Nooooooooooo!

I would have mentally lamented longer, had an unseen hand not grabbed my ass.

What the HELL?!

The Valar hate me! I am trapped in a dank, black, putrid hole, with five morons, legions of bloodthirsty Goblins, decomposing Dwarf bodies, and on top of all that I'm being groped by a perv. And I don't know which one it is!

Gandalf readjusted his crystal-light-producing-thing and we were graced with faint illumination. I quickly peered around to see who was near by. I will discover the pervert!

No one was close enough to have done it…Uh-oh…

I am not crazy! I've been violated by an invisible pervert!

Gandalf gave us all a deep and indiscernible look. "We have but one choice now," he said. "We must journey into the mines of Moria." And he marched purposefully ahead of us into the darkness.

No, we have another option! Why not dig our way out?! Our chances of survival are better than traipsing around in the dark, playing hide-and-seek with Goblin hordes! That beast of many slimy, hobbit-grabbing arms isn't going to sit on the shore for hours just waiting for us! Come on!

Nobody listens to me!

Why?! I have good ideas!

I wanted to keep going over the mountain! Freezing would be a kinder death than being eaten alive by monster-midgets! OH! And who saw the bird-minions?! Who's been risking his perfect body left, right and center to save all you retarded mortals?!

ME!

AHHHHHHHH!

Sniff. I'm not pouting.

We are creeping through Moria. Though I am still reluctant about it, this is not overly difficult for me. I make no sound when I move. Everyone else however, is finding remaining silent difficult. It is quite amusing to watch burly, hyper-masculine men like Aragorn and Boromir tip-toe, clutching their weapons so that they don't clank. Sam is very funny too; he looks like he's trying to walk whilst doing yoga. He shouldn't have brought so many pots. Gimli is having a hard time of it as well – the idea of him doing anything stealthily is absurd! Merry and Pippin might explode at any minute; they haven't said a word in over two hours. It must be some kind of record. Ha.

I'm walking in the back, as I can see best in the dark. Being an Elf has so many advantages…

Wait a second! What was that?!

I could have sworn I heard something…

Nothing… It's all these corpses and the dark. Anyone would freak out a bit. Especially under all the pressure. Nothing…

HOLY SHIT! Something touched my ass! Damn it, is this Valar forsaken place haunted by pervy, elf-molesting Dwarf ghosts?!

I am not going to say anything. They'll think I'm crazy and Gimli will say, "See, I told you he was a fruit!" That won't do. No, not at all.

"Pretty elfy…Yeeesss preciousss. We likes his shiny hair…Yeesss"

What. The. Fuck?!

Alright. You can handle this, Legolas. Just ignore it. It will go away!

Frodo is staring at me. His abnormally large eyes are even wider than usual. Does he hear it too?

"You hear it?" He whispers, clutching at the Ring. I nod.

"Gold hair. Gold, just like our preciousss…Pretty. Yes, my sweet."

Oh my Valar! I know that creepy, nasally voice! And it's not making me feel better to know it's not in my head!

I've got to tell Gandalf! Frodo, uh – stay! Good hobbit!

Gandalf!

I sprint to the head of the line. He gives me his what-are-you-doing-abandoning-your-post look. The whole group doesn't need to know a mutant, schizophrenic hobbit-thing, is groping me! So, I tell him, Gollum's following us. He's here! He wants to take – the Ring.

Sure, that sounds convincing. The Ring, yeah…

He wants to take something else by the sound of it, but that's neither here nor there.

Sorry Gropy! No elf ass for you!

Valar grant me strength! I'm in hell!