Somewhere I can belong

Chapter 13

A Hope sought…A tragedy found

Disclaimer: Aside from a few small things, I own nothing of this story, enjoy and please share any and all comments with me.

In chapter 11 you know what Crystal was up to, this part of the chapter picks up with the rest of the group the night before and then things move on from there.

A tired elf with bags under his bloodshot eyes stumbled down the stairs towards what he hoped would be an open bar. Without fail every time Gamgee had begun to trance for the past hour, the thunderous explosion of Brangar's snoring would awake him immediately and to top it off someone was whistling. "Whoever is whistling stop it immediately and get me a bottle of Elven Wine." He howled as he continued towards the bar. Which was mysteriously devoid of all its normal inhabitants.

"Oh this is just great, all I want is a drink is that to much to ask before I go off and in all probability am killed while trying to save a town. The whistling had grown even more in intensity, "and where is that thrice blasted whistling coming from. I swear by that." His rant ended as Gamgee was thrown across the room by the force of an explosion. Currently what had been the bar was now a very large opening, and what had been Gamgee's stool the night before was now a very big rock with orcish insults carved into it.

"Oh this is great, just great. Fricken orcs, I'm going to kill everyone last one of your thrice blasted race."

"And I'm going to help!" Janet screamed with tears gushing from her eyes.

"Janet where in the 7 hells did you come from."

The monk raised a hand pointing at what had been the bar and in a confused voice stared, "My order has been trying to answer that questions since its founding over two millennium ago."

"No you drunken monk I meant where did you come from before the explosion?" the irate wizard bellowed.

While digging through the rubble and tossing aside broken flasks and casks Janet replied, "Oh that's simple Gamgee, I was up there." Pointing to the second floor and, "Then I came down through that." She said pointing to a jagged opening in the ceiling. "That's how I got here."

"You fell through a hole in the ceiling?"

"That's right Gamgee. Now if you will excuse I am going to take this poor survivor. " Janet offered while patting a small cask of wine she had recovered from the rubble. "It's in a state of shock over the loss of so many of its kin and I know I can help alleviate that guilt. So the two of us are going to the cellar before another rock falls on us"

"Mind if I tag along Janet?"

"I'll have to ask the survivor, wait one moment." Placing the cask to her ear and after a hushed conversation. "Oh of course not Gamgee, you're a good sport and you're really funny when you're drunk." Janet began chuckling at a fond memory, "Besides I want to know more about Llumeria. What was Crystal thinking when she posed for that statue?"

Gamgee weighed his options and after a moments hesitation realizes that even if Crystal did kill him, her blade would be far less painful than staying in the same room as Brangar, that and he knew for a fact that Janet could not whistle. "Lead the way Janet, and I will tell you tales that you will never forget." That said the two made their way down a set of stair at the other end of the room laughing without a care in their world.

At another inn similar to the one where the companions where staying, but not under bombardment, a figure was easily carrying another figure in full armor towards the brightly lit entryway. The crowds inside parted for him. They had seen what happened to a group of elves that had gone to far with him some days ago and they knew his story well enough, and they knew of the Rhetwani.

"What's the problem Thrack, another one of your friends get banged up out there?" Asked a dwarf with an apron proudly proclaiming 'Dwarves came first!' Just the other day he had carried a muscle bound half orc wrapped in bandages up those very same stairs. What startled them all was the fact this person was an elf. The barkeep was aghast with shock, so much so that he dropped a bottle. Not wishing to cause a scene and cause further damage to his bar, he hurried over to Thrack whispering in hushed tones as he helped carry the elf up the stairs much as he had done with the half orc, "You're not going soft are you Thrack?"

Nodding his thanks for help he answered in dwarven, "Gloin asked me to do a favor for him, and this is part of the favor."

"I see then. Well you'll be happy to know that your brother is getting better, I had to tie him to his bed to keep him out of the fight." Brumer added with a chuckle.

Thrack's eyes lit up and after a moment joined in the laugh as well, "That's my brother for you."

Within moments the two had made their way to Thrack's room and after a mutual heave ho, the duo had dumped the elf onto the bed, as they both panted for breath. Brumer wiped a hand across his sweat stained brow before adding, "That is one heavy elf, and I don't care what shape she's in I wouldn't want to pick a fight with her even if she didn't have any armor on."

"A dwarf scared of an elf, now I've heard of everything." Thrack replied.

"Oh, I'm not scared of her." Brumer answered puffing out his enormous beer gut, "Why in my prime I could have taken down an entire clan of elves in combat. But she's one of them weird Heronoius worshiping elves. Those elves know how to fight." Seeing the tension no longer hung between the two, the bartender dared to ask a questions that had long been on his mind. "If you don't mind me asking this Thrack, could you tell me why you and your brother have the same name? I just don't understand it?"

"I'm named in honor of him, he found me abandoned in the wild. I'll tell you more over a meal Brumer."

"Well come on then, dinner is ready and i'm not getting any younger." The dwarf latched onto Thrack's arm and proceeded to drag him downstairs. The bar was still busy, but one of Brumer's kin had taken over and then pair wre given a wide berth by those that remembered what happened to the elves the other night. A large meal and several cups later Thrack had related his tale to Brumer. The dwarf now understood everything there was to know about Thrack and then some. "Moradin take that elf that did that to you and use em for an anvil."

"I agree wholeheartedly Brumer, but not until I find them."

Back at the Blue Boar, Brangar continued to sleep blissfully unaware of the deluge of boulders raining, near, around, and sometime in the inn. He was content to snore loudly confident that it would cause the wizard some grief, unknown to him that same wizard was discussing the meaning of life with Janet and a cask of wine. Regardless of where they were, or whom they found themselves with, they all found some semblance of rest and in the hours leading up predawn each returned to the Blue Boar. Some under their own power, and others needing assistance. The throwing of the remnants of the doors of their hinges by a stout dwarf announced he presence of Gloin Ironbeard. Soot clung to him like a second skin, and what remained of his silver beard was singed, and in some cases still smoking.

"Good you're all here, now you have one chance at this."

Gamgee interrupted, "Excuse Commander Gloin. Were we not to meet you by the Gate of Moradin?"

"We don't have time, and I can't risk the chance of one of you getting hit by a flying boulder or arrow. This is our one chance and if it all goes to Hades we're done for." The commander retorted. "Now before I was so roudly interrupted, if it looks like the orcs are going to take the tunnel, I will not hesitate to blow the tunnel. You're some of the best we got up on the wall, but no one is worth that much." Glancing around at the group he saw that there was no shock on any of their faces, they knew their mission and would succeed or die trying, for that he was glad and he prayed to Moradin that his gamble would pay off and not lose any in this room. The city could not afford the losses. "My cousin will show you the way and he'll be at the kill switch at the exit, you got a while yet till dawn so if you need any fancy preparation to get yourself up to fighting you better get it done now. One more thing, good luck and come back alive." That said the Commander of the Gate of Moradin walked wearily out of the tavern back to the fighting.

The calm that had existed mere moments before vanished as each began to do what it would take to prepare for the coming trial. They would have surprise on their side, just a simple raid to destroy some catapults and trebuchets, but any number of things could go wrong. Peering up from his spell book, Gamgee idly commented, "You know if Quinn was here, he would say something about being a restrained optimist."

Crystal ended her prayer adding, "Then he would add, 'Gamgee please be certain to prepare to cast fireball in our combat today.'"

The bizarre sounds of bones cracking and cartildege popping ceased as Janet added in turn, "Then there would be something about him volunteering to go first or some idiotic chivalry thing like that."

"Remember when we all thought he was some paladin that couldn't afford a warhorse because he kept giving things away and refusing credit for his deeds? What did you tell him Crystal?"

"Oh I don't remember exactly Gamgee, something about that it is our divine mission to improve the world and to shut up and take the credit he was due. Then he goes and says eloquently as he can that, 'His god did not require that.' Then I went on about what type of paladin are you, no mount, and no decent armor. Then he goes, 'I'm not a paladin, I'm a follower of Ehlona…a druid. Whatever made you think I was a paladin?' He is without a doubt the most messed up druid that I have ever met, I spent a week trying to convert him to being a paladin but he would hear none of it.

"He thought you were trying to brainwash him or hold some sort of exorcism!" Janet yelled out between a fit of laughter.

"I was not trying to brainwash him. I was merely trying to objectively show him how he would better serve the world as a paladin in the service of Heronious."

"Crystal you were going to tie him to a chair before we got attacked by those little thingys." The barbarian stated while doting yellow paint on his faces and arms.

"You mean that goblin tribe Brangar?"

"Yeah, those little things. Thanks Janet."

"Anytime big guy."

"Well if you're all done with your trot down memory lane, its time to go." Bellowed a dwarf with just a few tuffs of hair growing off his chain, amiss a sea of blisters and scarred tissue. "And for the record little miss high and mighty, my beard is growing back just fine." That said the jovial settings was abandoned as they made ready to leave the broken shell of an inn, then they saw Thrack.

They all looked at him with a mixture of shock and awe, while they were chatting about their missing friend he had made himself busy with his own tasks. His face, armor, and sword were covered with a bizarre series of dark blue tattoos. Some were simple swirls while others were far more elaborate, often looping back and forth several times. All of the lines lead to a massive knot centered above his heart. In contrast to Brangar's simple broken line tattoos, they were aghast at the artwork till their dwarven guide broke the silence. "It you're done staring we got orcs to kill." No one else spoke a word while their guide lead them through debris strewn streets and collapsed buildings. They each realized that the city would not be able to survive much longer. Finally, they reached a building with a sign proudly proclaiming, The Fat Happy Halflings Bakery Emporium.

"Oh you got to be kidding me." Gamgee began.

"Move it book boy or I'll use you as a shield when the next barrage begins." Their guide retorted. The building was quite large, easily two stories and every inch of space had piles of dirt, piled upon it. Brangar was idly kicking large clumps of dirt and stone to amuse himself, until one stone he kicked collided with a large pile that suddenly began to swear in garbled dwarven, and shake wildly flinging dirt in all directions.

Brangar cried out in shock, "The dirt is screaming." And he frantically began to draw his bardiche to strike the supposed living pile of ground. Gamgee was shouting out something about an earth elemental and that his spells were ready for large scale destruction and nothing like banishing Several moments later and few pounds of thrown dirt later a very dirty dwarf was revealed surrounded by a nervous group of adventurers some with weapons drawn.

"Bout time you got here, the tunnel is as done as its going to get and the charges are all set, just pull the string as the exit and you'll have about 20 seconds before the explosions begin, and every 20 seconds latter another goes off. Now if you excuse…." He began, noticing the number of drawn weapons facing him. Casually he pushed Brangar's drawn bardiche aside, "Put that away before you hurt yourself. The tunnels done Olaf and the charges have been set. I'm going to have a mug of ale, a chunk of beef, and go kill some orcs." That said the pile of dirt that was a dwarf as he exited the building not caring about the barrage of rocks falling from the skies.

"I wasn't going to hurt myself. I wasn't. You believe me right Gamgee""

"I know you wouldn't, but that dwarf doesn't know you like I do. Let's just let it go for now Brangar."

After their encounter with the very dirty dwarf the group moved in silence being lead by Olaf further and further down passageways until they finally they found themselves in the basement after traveling down a broad set of stairs that had groaned under the collective weight of armor and arms. Several of the steps actually had broken under the weight of Crystals scale mail and several bad jokes about her weight were quickly ended by her glare of death. Until at last a dark tunnel loomed before them beckoning them onward. Suddenly, another dwarf wearing goggles and little else save dirt thrust a pair of glowing longswords into the hands of Crystal and Gamgee.

"We couldn't risk torches what with the explosives and the chance of gas, these will serve you far better, and if you bring them back covered in orc blood why I'll let you keep them for free. Now don't worry if a bit of the ceiling falls down on top of you while you're moving that just means the catapults are hitting outside of the city. Which is good for the city but bad for you, Ah Moradin take my blasted tongue I can't say anything inspirational to save my hide." The dwarf babbled. "Don't die, that's the best I can do. Good luck to ya. I'll be waiting her by this end till you get back, my no good thrice cheating brother won the toss and he get to go kill orcs on the wall, while I'm stuck here babysitting a tunnel."

"And a fine tunnel it is. Why I bet it's the finest tunnel that's ever been built in such a day and a half." Olaf boasted slapping him on the back. The cloud of dust blinded everyone for a moment, but through the cloud they heard other dwarven voices.

"Aye, we're good." A Dwarven voice roared.

"Yes, yes we are." A second called back. As the dust, cleared piles of dirt were quickly being shaken off to reveal exhausted dwarven miners, their beards caked in grime, who were congratulating one another on such a well built tunnel. Suddenly a bottle was being passed around and then another followed by another until it seemed as though every pile of dirt was holding onto a bottle and singing out ballads to the Dwarven gods. Janet was inching away from the group and was about to lunge for a bottle until Crystal grabbed her from behind and carried the struggling monk back to the tunnel where the rest of the group awaited them.

"Well Crystal I would go first but as the age old saying goes, 'Heavily armed and armored ladies and barbarians first, fireball throwing mages third."

"Har har Gamgee. I just hope your aim is better than it was up there."

"I'll have you know my aim was impeccable."

"Then why did you blow up the cow?"

"To prevent the orcs from taking it. Scorched earth policy."

Can we just get in the creepy tunnel lined with explosives now!" Brangar roared.

With Gloin's nephew Olaf in the lead, followed by Crystal, Thrack, Brangar, Gamgee, and Janet taking up the rear, the group slowly made their way through the hastily constructed tunnel. The sound of the jubilant dwarves soon vanished as they marched further and further away until there was only silence. After almost ten minutes spent trudging on in silence Janet broke the silence, "Crystal, why is your sculpture called the warrior maiden of the endless hair' Gamgee was pretty drunk when he told the story to me last night and I couldn't make it all out." Gamgee subsequently gulped as beads of sweat quickly became rivers.

Crystal only offered a short answer in reply, "Gamgee you and I are going to have another one of our talks after we get back from this little excursion." Her voice dropped several octaves, "A very long talk about things that should not be spoken of."

"I'm never getting drunk with you again Janet!"

"Oh don't be such a fraidy cat Gamgee. Besides I'll protect you from the big bad scary elf paladin."

Amidst the banter and death threats Thrack finally spoke, but it uttered so softly that none heard it, "Fricken fracking elves!"

Olaf stopped at the tunnel ended in front of him with a small barrel with a short fuse leading away from it. Suddenly vibrations began to shake the tunnel and a shower of dirt began to fall upon them. "All right stow it all of you, we're here at the end. Now to alarm you but I'm going to use a small barrel of explosive to blast us through to the surface."

Gamgee commented idly, "Let me get this straight, you're going to use explosives in a tunnel lined with explosives to punch through to the surface?"

"Pretty much so, do you have a problem with that book boy?" Olaf snarled back.

Shrinking back several steps Gamgee replied, "I'm all right if everyone else is all right with it. What do you think everyone?" A chorus of okays, some half hearted some genuine soon followed.

"Good because I already lit the fuse. I suggest everyone duck behind their shields and cover their ears, because it's going to be loud very soon."

Meanwhile, several feet above them an orc was arguing with three goblins about their tasks. The orc grew so enraged by the questioning of his orders he roared out, "Grumush rip me apart if I am wrong." Seconds later the goblins were witness to in what was in their eyes was a divine miracle as their fat overseer dissolved before their very eyes in a blast of fire and light.

"That's right book boy and you might want to duck because I just set it." The dwarf commented idly. Seconds later a tremendous flash of light appeared for a brief moment followed by a horrific noise and then daylight streamed through a large opening and a group of startled goblins who were dancing around cheering for some reason. The catapults were in front of them ripe for the exploding as the work crews mostly goblins scattered to find weapons. Gamgee quickly began to evoke a fireball and everything was going to go perfect, or so they thought. None of them had an inkling as to what was going to happen next

On top of the battle scared and scorched Gate of Moradin Gloin stood defiantly refusing to take cover behind the parapets. His eyes were scanning the Orc positions for some hint of success a wisp of smoke or the carcass of an orc flying through the air, something meaning that the gambit was working. The signal that they had breeched the surface had taken place what seemed like a life time ago, but in all reality had only been a few minutes ago. Several more moments of worrying and then came the explosions. "It worked I knew it would. I'll give each of those sorry bastards a metal for this." Then he saw the ground above the tunnel begin sag and drop down several feet forming a trench. As the minutes passed by the trench slowly spread from the siege line to the wall. "What in the name of the Soulforger is going on down there." Batting aside his soldiers he sprinted the distance from the gate to the tunnel, regardless of whom he barreled over he did not cease his run till he was again at, The Fat Happy Halflings Bakery Emporium. Emerging from the battered storefront were 5 of the six that had gone through the tunnel. None had emerged unscathed as they were all bleeding from multiple wounds and caked with dirt. After a moment of tense silence one finally spoke in elven accented common, the statement carried more weight then a mithril coated battering ram, "They have tunnels running under the wall, that's where they got the dirt for that barricade. They'll be done soon and when they are they'll come in right underneath the walls."

Lines of worry had formed in Gloin's face as he began, "What about…"

The same voice answered again, "Didn't make it. Fool set off the charges after a break formed in the line. Orcs were a hairs breath behind us, durn fool died saving us all." The tense situation was broken by the sound of renewed combat as the orcs again began to attack. Gloin's attention was drawn back to the group when the same voice asking, "Permission to rejoin the line Commander."

Gloin was aghast at what he had just heard, they had gone through hell and still were willing to go back to the line. "As long as the walls stand there is hope. I'll do what I can to prepare barricades and what not, you did what you could and that was all that you could do. Moradin's blessings go with all of ya." That said the weary group made their way back to the wall to defend it to their last, their thoughts however drifted to the missing member who had sacrificed their life to save theirs. "Nephew I need you to run to the other commanders and to the citadel and apprise them of the situation." The younger Ironbeard merely nodded and set off for the other gates.

Well beyond the orcish siege lines to the southwest a lone scout was reporting to a lady covered from head to toe in a dark fabric of some kind, all that was visible of her were bright yellow eyes that darted back and forth among her subordinates as she issued her commands. There was no questioning of her orders, she knew that her soldiers would follow her every whim. Such was the power she wielded over them, her failure to apprehend the heir had cost her much and only his return, whole and unharmed would allow here to reclaim her lost position and nothing would stand in her way. Camp was broken and the three score riders set off for the besieged city. Very few would have recognized their banner save for Clovis and those that had seen a cartouche that hung around Quinn's neck.

Ramblings from Rohan part II:

Wow a really long chapter, and in such a short time. Kind of makes me feel like riverdancing. I apologize, but I have Boondock Saints on my mind and it is influencing me in ways I do not even notice. I hope you enjoyed this and are looking forward to the next installment. I thought about putting the battle in, but I thought a recap from the characters perspective would be a better choice for it. Please review and let me know if my poor attempt at writing is keeping you entertained.