5

There was a flash of a light from behind me, so bright even the reflection from the stone nearly blinded me. Sound disappeared entirely, as if the world had forgotten it existed, and then the buildings I had been running between shattered. They didn't crumble, that would have been safe-- no, they split into 10-pound fragments that struck me from all sides, smashing my axe from my hands. I felt like I was being crushed in a massive fist, squeezed into a shapeless mass of flesh and bone and metal, and when it stopped I found myself trapped in a mound of rocks. I could barely even turn my head.

I groaned softly, and even that hurt. I knew I had to escape or I would be quickly slain, but I couldn't even see anything around me. All I could do was hear, and I heard the thrumming, now sounding exultant. The ground quivered slightly, and the beast stood over me-- I could feel its huge form towering above me, the strength of its will casting a shadow over my mind.

I braced myself, and then the rocks around me shuddered and shifted. The Balrog was digging down, I realized, and I found I could turn my head now. I looked back, and the rock right behind my head tumbled away to reveal the enormous cloven foot of my enemy. I shoved myself backwards and did a reverse somersault, barely avoiding the hand reaching down towards me.

My graceful roll had a most undignified ending with my back slamming against an especially large rock. Stars dancing before my eyes, I staggered upright and did some very fast thinking. The Balrog, having missed me, was turning around; I had perhaps two seconds to run. But I had no weapon, and I could see my axe's head protruding from the hollow that had held my body. I gauged the distance and ran straight for it, right between the Demon's legs.

I threw out one hand to catch myself against one of the rocks, snatched the thankfully-unbroken axe from its trap, and spun. The Balrog was still turning, and I got a severely annoyed mindspeech stroke. I smiled grimly, and turned to run, but...

I knew it wasn't the wisest decision, to attack when I should be devoting all my energy to getting back to the Temple. But I was fed up with continuously running, and I had a mind to make my foe hurt for what he had done-- I pulled the axe back for a mighty blow and brought it down on the nearest foot with enough force to split stone.

There was that screech of metal on stone, and a shower of sparks. The Balrog bellowed in fury and smote at me with its fist; I ducked under the blow and hewed the leg again. Then the other foot came up unexpectedly; I tried to dodge, but it caught me right at my waist and sent me flying through the air. I sailed some 30 feet before landing painfully on my back, with my heavy plate armor dented into my stomach.

Fortunately I did not smack my head into anything, and the Demon had kicked me towards the Temple. I scrambled up, wincing, and hobbled towards the steps.

Behind me I heard, once again, the sound of Power, and a backwards glance showed the bow in the Demon's hands. Another burst of Power later and it was aiming an arrow at me, an arrow I had no cover to protect against.

I had one chance. Thinking quickly I caught up one of my throwing axes and hurled it directly towards the arrow, just before its release. The axe head met the fire bolt and the two exploded together in mid-air; with a moment's regret for the lost axe I turned and hobbled faster.

An almost admiring mindspeech attempt hit me, and then the sound of Power again. Tricks only work once, and I decided to drop to the ground this time.

Bad timing. I dropped too soon, and the Demon re-aimed and fired right into my back. The arrow hit me like an enormous fist driven into my back, sending me sliding forward with a cry-- fortunately it was a poor angle, and the arrow ricocheted rather than penetrating. My armor held, barely, but now it burned me and felt like it had been twisted in to stick deep into my back. I scrambled up and made a last dash to the Temple-- in my condition, that meant fast walking speed. It was near enough now that I managed to get behind a column before the Demon could pull out a third arrow, and I staggered towards the statue of Mahal and the interconnected strings of lightning fuse. Next to them I had left a ready flint and a small bit of slow-burning fuel; I lit the fuel and waited.

Sure enough, the Balrog arrived quickly and stood before the Temple. But the Demon-glow pouring in past the columns was not followed by the Demon itself. Why not? What was it thinking?

Another mindspeech attempt. This one was amused, with a sense of comprehension that made my heart lurch. My foe knew my plan, it would not enter.

But no, the mindspeech now gave a sense of 'playing along'. The Balrog strode forward between the columns, and with a satisfying effectiveness the two mines planted there went off simultaneously in flashes of orange and yellow-- the Balrog stumbled forward with a growl, and the columns wavered then fell into one another. When the dust settled, the exit was choked with the broken columns, and the Balrog was snarling as it sought me. Mahal seemed to be cloaking me once again, and I grinned to myself as I watched the beast looking into the corners and around the columns.

I was peering around the nearest column, the burning fuel in one hand and the lightning fuse waiting in the other. The Demon had not yet entered the fatal hexagon, though, and I began to become impatient.

Finally the Balrog stepped between the six columns and I brought the fuel to the fuse. It ignited with a violent hiss and the flame raced towards the mines. The Balrog froze, then, just before the mines went off, I saw it try to turn and hurl itself from the trap. But it failed.

The mines exploded as one, and the smoke and dust obscured all within. Only the tops of the columns showed, and I saw them quiver, then crack down from the ceiling one after another. With sounds as of the hammer of the underworld itself, the columns smashed into the floor then fell in slow-motion inwards. When the stone had finished crashing down and the smoke had begun to clear, I started towards the mound.

It shifted angrily, and I saw one massive column shiver then roll off the pile. It revealed the back of the Demon's head, and with a victorious cry I charged it. Even as it turned the burning eyes on me, I reached it and struck a blow.

And what a blow. It was a blow for all Dwarves, for those murdered by the beast and those I could save. It was a blow for our scarred home, for all the crimes this creature had committed, and I put every remaining spark of energy into it.

The axe blade clove deep into the Demon's head, just above the eye. But rather than striking down to the brain, it turned aside and sheared through the outer skin. The roar the beast responded with almost knocked me back by itself, and left my ears ringing-- furious at the failure, I pulled the axe back and prepared another blow.

"For Father," I snarled, then swung the axe. But the Balrog had gotten one arm free, and warded off this blow; that cost it a finger, hewn off at the base, but protected the head. Then I sensed that current of Power flowing in towards the heap, and knew I had only seconds.

I tried for one last blow, but that hand lashed out and knocked my axe from my hands and me onto my back. I rolled over to go for the axe, but it was too late: the Power stopped flowing, and then came the explosion. The entire mound vanished in a blaze of light bright as an exploding star, and I was sent tumbling and rolling across the floor to slam into the base of Mahal's statue.

I knew immediately my back was broken-- the rock that had caught me was too heavy for the already-strained armor. I groaned and looked for my axe, but could not move. The Demon stood there, the burning blood dripping from its head and hand, and stared at me. I cowered back, and then watched in horror as it held up its undamaged hand. Power flowed in again, but this time it gathered around the hand and formed a thick glow; the Balrog wrapped this hand around its other hand for a minute, then moved it to the head wound. I gaped in horror to see the missing finger replaced, and then closed my eyes, praying to Mahal to bring the end swiftly.

What of my people? I could only hope they swiftly determined I was dead, without waiting for the Demon's attack to flee. Perhaps they would be able to escape without more death. I, though, had failed. Now it was for me to go to seek my father and my ancestors before me, and I felt the fear and adrenaline drain from me. My life was at its end, and I was at peace.

I opened my eyes to see the Demon still regarding me. It struck at me with mindspeech, and I wearily dropped my defenses. I wanted to know what my foe wished to say, it didn't matter any more.

[A worthy foe, but a foolish one. None can prevail against the Valaraukar.] It took one step towards me, closing the gap, and reached down a hand. Almost gently, it wrapped the hand around me; with a final groan, I felt my armor begin to warp in the heat, my hair shriveled and burst into flame, my skin began crackling. I knew no more.

-Author's Note-

Well, here it is-- my own take on how, exactly, the Balrog did in King Nain. All Tolkien said was that Durin VI and Nain were both killed by the Balrog, so I decided to flesh out the story somewhat. I hope the ending is not disappointing... but, of course, you know I didn't really have a choice as to how to end the story. Oh well...