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RigorMortis 19
“There are darker things than Orcs in the woods. But darker still are the Dwarves that hunt them.”
Three set out from Erebor. Not for council, nor coin — but for duty. The woods had grown restless again. Tracks found. Shadows moving. Whispers of Gollum. And worse.
Gimli, bold and quick to anger, went for honor.
Thalin, quiet and watchful, went without a word.
Dáin Ironfoot, King under the Mountain, went because no other dared lead.
They took the forest path when others turned back. Through spider-haunted glades, down ruined roads, into the mouths of caves where no light reached.
They did not ask permission. They did not wait for allies. They brought only iron — and the will to use it.
Where they passed, the dark grew thin. Where they struck, the wild grew still. They left no songs behind them. Only silence.