Entry Two
Dear diary,
As of right now we are briefly resting at the secret doorway of Moria, and Gandalf is proud of the success we've had. But he warns us our luck might change once we arrive in Mordor, or even past the entryway.
I have just been yanked off my feet by a large octopus. Aragorn and the others came to my rescue, fortunately. My writIng might be getting sloppier as I'm running. Before the octopus could get inside the doorway, Boromir and Aragorn slammed it shut. Right now, there is a glowing heat and momentum of fire in here, but a calm yet wild heart of evil brewing around. Gandalf has told us to get into a circle, with me in the middle to be protected.
Now I am frightened as ever. Gandalf says he can tell Orcs and Uruks are around. Whether they are working for Saruman to capture me and take me to Isengard, or if they are for the Dark Lord to kill me and take the Ring, I do not know. Before I draw Sting and put this diary and my hobbit-pencil away, I want to note one last thing: things here are no longer safe. Once we are past Khazad-dûm, things will be no safer than they are in Mordor. Though we hobbit-folk of the Shire know little of what happens in the land of evil or Moria or Mordor, I know legend of a dark terror roaming in Khazad-dûm. He is black but glows with evil flames, has a glowing white whip of cruelty and malice, and a flaming red sword. Balrogs the Elves called them. In other words, demons of terror.
On a last note, I don't know if he works for Sauron or not. I would doubt it much. But a Balrog is evil, and probably does know a lot of Sauron or the Ring.
It was now that I put my diary away, along with my hobbit-pencil, and drew Sting. The Elvish blade was now glowing bluer than ever. In fact, it silently pulled out of its leather sheath with a blue fire blazing on its edges.
Sam, Merry and Pippin had their swords out from Aragorn, who had his Ranger sword out. Gandalf clenched Glamdring tightly. Boromir had his sword and steel-plated titanium shield of Gondor. Legolas had an arrow set to his bowstring; and Gimli cried out.
We all turned to look at him in surprise. But he ran off. "Gimli!" Gandalf called. Gimli kept running, his axe tight in his broad hands. Then he reached a room that glowed blue. A tomb was set in the middle. He bent and wept.
We followed him in. All of a sudden, Orcs poured into the room.