1.0 - The Marsh Bell

Inar moves slowly forwards and starts to inspect the door.

Gilly continues to look around for anything Mystical or Old or Historical.

The door is clearly a stout one -- as it's withheld quite a beating from... something. Perhaps whatever left all those bones up above. It is, in retrospect, somewhat amazing that the door has held up all this time. It's been reinforced with cleverly wrought metal that has withstood the dampness of the flooded rooms and held up to a determined assault.

Beyond that, it's pretty firmly shut. Perhaps barred from the inside.

Inar studies the door for a few moments before reaching up and knocking to see if he gets a response from the other side

"What sort o’ animal you think made those claw marks, cousin?" asks Frór, taking a closer look over Inar’s shoulder. While looking at the claw marks he joins Inar in his efforts to elicit a response from beyond the door, "Lord Balin, Open up! We’re here to help!"

Robin frowns, thankful for the presence of better warriors than he.

Fror is, alas, unable to glean any insight from the claw marks. About all he is certain is that whatever it is, it either can jump up rather high or it stands on two feet. Regardless, they have nasty claws. At Inar's knock and Fror's bellow, there's a scuffling behind the door -- as if something is being pulled from before it. Then the rasp of some locks being pulled and the door carefully opens inward.

In the torchlight the sunken face of a battered old Dwarf looks out at you. "By Durin's beard! Oin! We've been found by our kin!" The door opens wider and Balin gestures you inside. "Come in, come in.. quickly before they come investigating."

Inar waves the others in before he follows himself. "Lord Balin, It is good to see you"

Robin sighs with relief when it is the Dwarf on the other side of the door, and not some beast. He regards Balin warily, knowing full well that he is one of the troublemakers that took cousin Bilbo off from the safety of the Shire and had him acting all sorts of strange upon his return. Regardless, he cannot help but voice more pressing concerns for the time being, "Excuse me, but who do you mean by 'they?'"

With the door shut, Oin and Balin secure it again and point you to some heavy things to push in front of it just in case. You are in a wide room with a short ceiling supported by wide, stocky pillars -- it's clearly a wine cellar. Or it was, at least. There's nothing in the room beyond Balin and Oin and what they've piled against the door.

"I'm not entirely sure." Balin offers. "Some creatures that live down here. They look somewhat like drowned corpses that walk about. We were able to fend them off enough to get into this room and lock ourselves in. But it's been days and we've had naught to eat and drink -- there's simply no way we could fight our way out in this condition."

At these words, you do reflect that Balin and Oin look quite a bit the worse for wear. "We should get out of here as soon as possible." Oin adds.

Frór immediately hands over his water skin and rummages through his pack for some trail rations. "Here. Right you are,Oin! Have a bite, tighten your belts, and let’s make our move,"

Gilly stares with shining eyes, having quite the opposite reaction to her brother. Her awe and excitement keep her unusually silent, though she is quick to join Fror in finding rations to share.

Oin and Balin gather what belongings they have with them -- they are meager indeed. Although they heft their axes, they look far too tired to do anything but carry them. Each of you is quite certain that should it come to combat, they will be next to useless.

Gilly strings her bow and knocks an arrow, holding it ready but not drawn.

Robin looks quite hesitant, but readies his small blade as well.

Inar readies his sword and shield, moving to the front of the group. He’s about to say to one of the others to open the door when he remembers something. Reaching into his pack he pulls out a small wrapped bundle and offers it to Balin "We found this on our journey, I wanted to return it to your stewardship" he says as he hands the gift for the king of the eagles to the older dwarf.

Balin's eyes go wide and he nods his thanks. "Well done. Well done. I'm glad this is safe. But perhaps it will need to be delivered another way..."

With the material blocking the door and the locks pulled aside, you venture forth into the corridor once more. At the moment, the area remains silent and dim. The light is low, with the flickering of Fror's torch -- now in the hands of Oin -- casting moving shadows about the walls and floor around you.As you enter the main room, a small cluster of things turns towards you.



There appear to be about half a dozen of them -- and they do not appear friendly. Balin offers from the rear, "Thank Durin's Beard there aren't more of them!"

"Balin! Oin! hold the torch high! Stay behind us! Stay safe! We'll take care of these swampy boogy-men!" shouts Frór as he passes his fancy walking stick to Balin and hefts his huge mattock, then moves to the fore to defend his kin and engage the monsters.

Inar stays grimly silent as he moves forward, sword and shield held at the ready.

Gilly swings out to the side, to get a good shot at the creatures. She is careful not to move any closer, nor to put her back to a doorway.