landslide ~ fellowship group one

[legolas]

The sound of the collapse echoed off the cave walls even after the rocks stopped falling. Dust in the air didn't seem to want to settle, making it difficult to see even for Legolas where everyone was. There had been only a breif moment between the thumps of the earth that raised pebbles and the shattering of the stone pillars around them to give the warning for everyone to get out of the way, and he could tell that even now they were not all present on this side of the newly-formed rock wall. In fact, he only spotted three besides himself. He could not account for each of the hobbits, nor Gimli, Aragorn, or Ash, and though a part of him much desired to call over the barrier and inquire of their well being, he had not even the time to adress those closest to him before the sounds of the settling rocks were drowned out to his ears by a fresh breaking.

"We need to move!" he informed abruptly, "The whole room is going to come down!" The mines were a precarious system and though rock was study, a break in the structure the size of the one they were just caught between was surely bound to set off others. He glanced to the two tunnels nearest them. Though separating further from the fellowship was not something he believed any of them would desire and he knew not which tunnel, if either of them, would take them closer to the exit, staying would surely get them all killed on either side. He could hear the rocks agreeing with him and that was enough to have him making a choice between the paths. "This way!"

His eyes had since adjusted and he made sure that he ushered everyone who was there past him and inside. He looked back at the divider, unmoving. The falling rocks dared him to venture any closer. With a final hardened glance, he entered through the tunnel, and it was only a few moments more before the enterance was blocked made unusable. With the interior of the large room now demolished, the cave seemed to be settling. He, at least, did not feel threatened they would be crushed in another collapse. He was, however, painfully aware that they were not alone in this pass they were forced to take. They could not go back and they could not go forward in a way that might avoid the impending fight. Though they not yet appeared, they were approaching nearer. Eyes trailed man, hobbit, and wizard."Draw your weapons."

[frodo baggins]

As the rocks began to fall, Frodo couldn't help but think for a brief moment that maybe this was the end of the terrible venture. Then he started glancing around to figure out which way was best to avoid being crushed by the falling rock. As he glanced around, he noticed that with the change in the room, there was also a change in the number of those remaining. Frodo's stomach lurched as he thought about the possibility that the others might be....no he didn't want to think about that. If something had happened to the other hobbits, he would blame himself. It was because of him that they had all come on this quest. Now he wished he could find a way through that wall of rock to figure out if they were okay. He needed to know that they were at least still alive. But there was no way of knowing, and as he glanced at the others who were still with him, he knew there wasn't much longer that they could stay there. There was still rock falling around them, and he knew, even though his heart hurt at the thought of leaving the others, they had to get to safety.

Frodo listened to Legolas half in a daze. He could hardly believe this was happening. He didn't even know what caused this. How could everything just collapse? One moment there were nine of them, and now it was reduced to four. This just wasn't going well at all. Frodo glanced back in the direction of where the others had to be, before he turned and followed Legolas as fast as his legs could carry him. His heart pounded madly in his chest as he reached the relative point of safety. At least he was no longer risking being crushed. One small good thing in an endless amount of misfortune and misery. Frodo couldn't help but blame himself. Because of him and the journey he had to take, the others were forced to deal with so many problems. It was just one bad moment after another. Frodo couldn't help but wonder how the others tolerated it. They certainly didn't have to come this far. He was now greatly regretting the decision of entering the mines. But how was he to know what would happen? It had seemed like the only way at the time, but now he couldn't help but wonder if that were really true.

He squinted into the darkness, as if that would help him see any better what was on the path in front of them, but it didn't. He was practically blind in the dark. This was just terrible. Frodo trembled slightly in anticipation and fear as Legolas told the group to draw their weapons. Frodo didn't really know how to fight. He had never learned, and just because he carried the elven sword Sting didn't mean he knew how to wield it properly. He could only hope that the mithril shirt Bilbo gave him was as strong as he said it was. Frodo drew his sword, wishing that the elf was wrong about the fact that something was approaching, but Sting confirmed it with it's light blue glow that warned when orcs were near. He gripped the sword tightly in his right hand, hoping that he would be able to use the weapon. As he stood and waited for the inevitable battle, he hoped that the others were unharmed, and that he might see them again.

[boromir]

The rocks began to fall down in a deafening roar. Boromir didn't know if this was a trick of Saruman, Sauron, or something much worse. Perhaps it was just a coincidence. Surely even dwarves couldn't build structures that lasted forever. Whatever or whoever had done this, the best that Boromir could do right now was keep his head covered, using his shield to fend off the larger rocks that fell his way. When relative silence descended again, he couldn't see anything, not even his own hand in front of his face. He dared not call out loud, lest the slightest vibration from his voice set off another avalanche of falling rocks.

But then Legolas' voice cut through the silence. Boromir stood there for a moment, straining his eyes as he tried to get them to adjust to the darkness but it wasn't working. He saw a smaller figure run by him; he had no doubt that it was Frodo because he could feel the unbearable power of the Ring calling to him. And it looked like Gandalf was with them as well, unless Aragorn had picked up the wizard's pointy hat and donned it and had grown a long beard in a matter of a few minutes. Boromir's eyes scanned the rest of their area futilely; he couldn't see nor sense anyone else. It was him, Legolas, Frodo, and Gandalf. The best that they could hope for was that the others would meet them on the outside of the mines.

He followed behind Frodo on the path, making his way just as cautiously and carefully down it as the hobbit was. They were lucky to have the elf with him for he could see better than any of them right now. And then they reached an impasse. That seemed to be the case whenever they decided to venture further into the mines. Legolas told them to draw their weapons, and Boromir promptly drew out his sword, more than ready for it to see some use. He glanced over at Sting and saw it glowing faintly. "Orcs," he said out loud, although he was sure everybody knew what they were dealing with by now.

[legolas]

And what, oh what, could be found in tunnel number one? Legolas could not help the feeling of error that swelled up inside of him at discovering he'd led the group into an band of orcs. He pushed it back only on the premise he could not change the past and right it only by leading the others out, something which he had no choice in being capable of doing, for he was the only one who could see. Gimli possibly might have had an explanation for this. The hobbits a bit of optomism. But they and Aragorn, who in all rights would have had a plan made and in action by now, were -hopefully- on the oposite side of the mines. Though he could not make out the details on the figures, he had a good guess as to what the approaching shapes were right away, and those guesses were only confirmed when a light emmited itself from Frodo's sword. He nodded tersely to Boromir's somewhat unnecissary comment, watching, waiting. But there was not time for that. 

The pass was narrow. Not to the point of being uncomfortable, but to the point the orcs served as a blockade they could not pass. The sheer number was concerning. Orcs did not travel in twos or threes. Instead they would outnumber them at a bear minimum of four to one. He could not see where their line stopped of the creature all armed and angry, some with bows, others blades and more crude objects of blunt force. An arrow whizzed past their heads, embedding itself in the stone somewhere above even the tip of Mithrandir's hat. Legolas took a step in front of the fellowship and with a precice concentration notched and fired an arrow of his own, harsh cry of the falling orc all he really needed to know he'd hit his mark. Though the aim of the orcs in the dark was faulty he knew that with enough fired at least one would meet its intended target, and they had not enough means to slay them all before they had the chance. 

They needed to do something, say something, otherwise stop the world from spinning in slow motion. The longer they tarried the more enemies would gather and the further behind they'd fall in attempt to find the others. He felt much as if he was obliged to step up and much as if it was never his place. "There are too many for us to wait for them. We can not afford to remain still." He vocalized his concerns, waiting not for the directions which would not come as he shot another orc down. He did not know if what he said was meant as a mere observation, the basis for a plan, or a direct order. Where they stood they had two walls to protect them. But they wouldnt protect them forever. They only thing he could think to do in their position would be to change in. Stay close, cover each other's backs, and attack. The facts orcs were coming from here said that this was not a dead end. If they did could not cross the path they ought make one of their own.

[frodo baggins]

The wait until the orcs approached was making everything worse for Frodo. His fear only grew, and he was sure he would fail his task. All these creatures had to do was kill them and then they could take the one ring, and by doing so, it would find it's way back to Sauron. If Frodo didn't find a way to defend himself and get out of this horrible mine, he knew that this would be what would happen. The fellowship would fail, and the world would be covered in darkness. Dread filled his heart, and he almost thought, why not just give up now? But then he remembered why he had decided to do this in the first place. Frodo had set out to save the Shire, and there was no way he would do that if he simply gave up because the situation was terrible. He had known that it would be dangerous, they had all known that. But somehow it all seemed worse with the separation of the fellowship. Without all of them together he felt as if the slight feeling of safety that he had had simply collapsed. Not that there was ever much of a safe feeling in the mines, but now he felt nothing but fear and dread. How would they get out of there alive? It didn't seem like there was much of a chance.

But Frodo had to find a way to take that chance. It was his duty as the ringbearer to do that, no matter what it took. Perhaps it was this that helped make his decision for him, or perhaps it was simply the fact that they were being attacked and he had to do something about it. In any case, he would not let this separation break him. He would do his best to fight his way out of this mess and find the others. Frodo had to believe that they were still alive. And since he forced himself to believe it, he was determined to find a way to meet up with them again. And that meant breaking through the force of these orcs and getting out of the mines. Frodo would do his best to fight his way through. Then again, perhaps it was best to defeat all of them first, but he didn't think that was possible. While he couldn't see much, the light of his sword helped him recognize that there had to be a large group of orcs. Large enough to pose a problem that much was clear. Of course, he had never expected they would get through Moria without a bit of trouble, but he had simply hoped it wouldn't turn out as bad as it had. Things just couldn't get any worse.

Legolas shot and killed an orc before Frodo had even taken a step towards the orcs, which made him feel like he should do more to help. This time he would not be useless and injured, watching others fight around him, as it had happened on Weathertop. No, this time Frodo would fight, and he would do his best to help the remainder of the fellowship get through the mines. With his sword glowing, he had enough of a light to know where he needed to strike, and he figured that would be enough. The elf's words only made his fear grow, but he knew it was the only way. They had to fight, and they had to go towards the enemy, rather than wait for them to come. There was no other way out but forward. Frodo knew that the time for talking was over. Legolas had said what was important anyway. He didn't feel that there was anything he needed to add to that. Frodo would fight and try to bring the ring out of this horrible place with him. Frodo took a deep breath, before he moved towards the orcs, not wanting to think about the danger he was in, but being forced to all the same.

To keep himself from faltering, he thought about his friends, the hobbits who had chosen to come with him. Sam, Merry, Pippin...they had all come out of loyalty and friendship, and for that, Frodo had to stay strong. The hobbit muttered so softly that only he might hear, "For the Shire," his true motivation that had kept him going through this dark place. And then he ran at the orcs, forgetting about his fear and his despair to concentrate on the idea of getting out of those mines and finding the others. Before he knew it, the orcs were in front of him, and he started slashing and stabbing the ones nearest to him. He did not look back to where the others might be. Frodo had to believe that they were there, looking out for him and also doing their best to get them out of this situation. He fought the orcs, doing his best to avoid their own weapons trying to do the same thing to him as he was trying to do to them. All he could think was fight, fight, fight, until he could get away from there. He sincerely hoped his mithril shirt would keep him from dying.

[gandalf]

[img src="http://i252.photobucket.com/albums/hh25/KryoDragon/dragon%20chronicles/gandalf.png["]

The crashing sounds of the cave in had broken the thoughts that Gandalf had earlier. Thankfully Legolas had taken intuitive to guide them from being crushed by the rocks falling. He was grateful for being still alive of course, however that was going to be short lived if they died from being attacked by something. Hearing the call to arms Gandalf kept his staff at close guard so if the need arose he could use it to deflect off enemies. He could see the light emanating off of the sword Frodo held, it illuminated off the walls of the mine. The sword being of elvish make, detected when Orcs and that were around. The air seemed to tense around the old wizard as he could sense the danger growing closer. It felt almost overwhelming as he stood his ground, where most a man would try and flee for their livelihood.

Not Gandalf though. He was a wizard of inner strength. Though his outer appearance would portray to show weakness, his inner mind was wrought full of years of skill and experience. This was one saving grace that the old man had. Otherwise much of his fate was in the others hands as theirs was in his in return. Realizing that some of their group was not with them he hoped that they would find a safe passage out over being dead in the rubble behind them. He shifted an weary eye to the hobbit Frodo, it pained him to see Frodo so torn. Then his gaze traveled over the others that were with him, he worried for their safety as well and felt that maybe he should have stood by his first instinctual feelings about traveling the mines.

"Stand your ground everyone." he stated as he could feel the trouble drawing nearer. This made Gandalf grip the staff tightly making his hands turn a pale white as he stared into the abyss of what was in front of them. He wanted to sound reassuring thought that he himself by at least outward appearances was not someone frightened of there situation. He could not predict was was to become of them. Usually he was one to be more confident of such determinations. However, he did not want to show this to the group or all he believed would be lost. They needed to believe they would have a chance of escaping even if it seemed like there would be no hope and Gandalf was bound and determined to give that hope to them. "For the sake of the Fellowship hold strong everyone."

[boromir]

This was going to be their first real fight, and Boromir was looking forward to it. He was the soldier in this small group; it was the one thing he had always excelled at in his life. He knew the others didn't trust him, especially Gandalf and Aragorn, but this would be his chance to prove to at least one of them that he was a valuable member of the Fellowship--that just because the Ring was always calling to him it didn't mean he was going to betray them and use the chaos that battles always created to overpower and take the Ring from Frodo and then run off to find his own way out of the mines before anyone could stop him.

As the orcs moved closer and closer, Boromir steeled himself for the fight to come. He placed his shield in front of his body to ward off the arrows flying in his general direction. He didn't think Gandalf needed to say the words that he did. Legolas was already standing his ground and, from the looks of it, Frodo was going to do exactly the same thing; for a halfling, Frodo had a lot of courage. And, of course, Boromir wasn't about to run away. He was looking forward to his sword finally seeing some real action.

The orcs were now on top of them. Boromir's sword came alive as he found himself stabbing and slashing with one hand, while his other hand deftly moved his shield around, protecting him from the orcs that his blade currently wasn't paying attention to. Every now and then he caught glimpses of Frodo fighting for his life. He stayed as near Frodo as he could. His mind told him it was because he wanted to protect the halfling at all costs; his heart told him that it was because he didn't want to lose sight of the ringbearer among the melee going on. The Ring being in the halfling's hands was band enough; Boromir couldn't imagine what would happen if it fell into the orcs' hands instead.

[legolas]

He listened as Gandalf told them to stand their ground; to hold strong for the sake of the fellowship. The people in it and the cause that it represented. Legolas did not know why this battle had him more unnerved than any other. Possibly it was all that rested on their mission, which could afford no untimely demise. Possibly it was that they had with them those who did not ask to or were not meant to fight. Who did not deserve to be in this situation and who could loose their lives solving a mistake that was made before they were even born. He felt it was largely the offset that came of their splitting that made things seem without hope, and the fact that as much as he wished he could tell Frodo and the others that he knew there was hope for those on the other side, he had not the ability to convince himself they all made it through the cave in. He could only hope, with what hope there was left, for those that did they faced not what they encountered on this end of the tunnels. And he could rid the matter from his mind for long enough to battle.

The orcs were not his main concern. Though he was unsure if he was thankful for it or disgused by it, hed killed so many of the creatures it was much a second nature. He lingered behind the others as Boromir and Frodo charged in so that he could make the most of the distance and shoot down those who appeared most versitle or in the way. Frodo being the first to charge had surprised Legolas, but as he thought about his quiet call, he understood well. It wasn't just to take back what had been lost, but to preserve what they still had. The fellowship's goal in tangible form manifested itself in the Shire, and in Gondor. And in the people who stood around him and fought. Who would be preserved. The hobbit had the advantage of his size to get him the furthest in the throng; Boromir, though Legolas had not a great amount of respect for the man, was a great warrior; and Gandalf capable of holding his own as well.

He had to make the descision rather quickly to pull one of his knives out instead of notch another arrow as the orcs got close enough to strike and so that he may join the others in progressing forward. As long as the orcs were out of the way, it mattered not if the job was complete. The others appeared to be fairing well enough; for the situation, remarkably. Still there were more of the foul creatures than there were of them. Legolas kept a vague count in his head how many fell by him as he went through the general dance of slashing and shooting and avoiding being slashed, crushed, or something equally as unpleasant. He attempted to look beyond their battle and to where they might make their next break though he could not make much out of the dark tunnels. He dodged a particularly wild swinging orc's weapon and came down on it's head with his, anything but pleased with the blood that burst and splattered all around. It seemed their surplus of freshly arriving enemies had now come to a half, but he knew it only took one that remained surrounding them to change the course of the whole fight.

[frodo baggins]

Frodo was too numb to recognize his fear anymore. He was too far into this now, and while he was still scared out of his mind, he did what he had to, and blocked the fear out. For if he allowed it in, he would just be lost to the terror that was surrounding the remainder of the fellowship. Frodo would cave to the fear, and in doing so, all would be lost. No, he had to fight, and he had to continue to be numb to the fear, to the grief that threatened to overwhelm him as he worried about the others of the fellowship. There was no way they could have survived...or was there? Frodo really couldn't tell, but he couldn't allow himself to hope. For now, he just had to focus on making his way through these cursed mines and to...well anywhere else. Frodo wasn't entirely sure where they would go after that. If there was an after that. But he didn't want to think of the likelihood that they would all die. That would only make him lose all hope and end up in despair. Which would destroy the sole purpose of the mission. Frodo ran toward the orcs, because that was the only solution he had. And maybe his charge was brave, but it was also foolish. There was no way he could battle his way through all of them. For a moment, Frodo wondered if he should just stop and hope that the others would come to help him, before he realized just how foolish that was. As much as he would rather not be forced to fight, the battle was upon him, and he had to fight as best as he could.

His hope to succeed wasn't for himself, but for the Shire. That was all that he wanted, was to keep his home safe for the next generations of hobbits to come. Maybe Frodo would not survive this journey, but if so, Frodo would die knowing that he had tried his best to save his kin, and the place that mattered most to him in Middle Earth. Nothing else mattered but for him to be able to save the Shire from destruction. The chance was very small, but it was still the small hope that the Free Peoples of Middle Earth had. As the bearer of that hope, Frodo was determined to see this through to the end. He slashed and stabbed many orcs, trying to keep moving and to avoid being surrounded by any of them. If he stopped moving he would undoubtedly be trapped and who knew what would happen to him then. The hobbit continued forward, his sword Sting slashing at all the orcs he came across. He tried his best to block all the swords that came at him as well, but of course he couldn't defend himself against them all. Frodo was fighting three or four orcs at a time, when one managed past his slashing, which probably wasn't the best defense, and tried to slash at the hobbit's chest. But this didn't stop him, because thankfully the mithril did a good job in keeping him from harm. He would have a bruise there, but that would be all. Frodo struck that orc down, when another came at him. The hobbit blocked and moved away to try to turn and face the new attacker when he felt a sharp pain in his left leg.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh" Frodo cried out in pain as he did his best to keep his balance and defend himself with the onslaught of attackers and avoid slipping in the pools of blood that were the orcs and now his own running into the mix. There was no time for him to wrap something around his bleeding leg. There was no time for anything but to defend himself from his attackers, and try to find a way out of the mines. He was pushing forward slower than before, trying not to limp because it would only cause him more problems, despite the pain he felt from the cut in his leg. He knew that if he didn't do something he would lose a tremendous amount of blood, but the hobbit did not know what he could do to avoid that. Frodo chose to do what he could, and therefore his attack on the orcs became more ferocious than before, although he felt weaker, and the weight of the ring seemed to weigh on his chest heavier than it had only moments before. Perhaps the ring knew that this was a crucial moment that could bring it back to the hands of it's master. Frodo couldn't let that happen. He let out another yell, but this one to startle the orcs as he ran toward another group of them, wincing and trying not to groan or show any outward signs of weakness from his injury.

[gandalf]

[img src="http://i252.photobucket.com/albums/hh25/KryoDragon/dragon%20chronicles/gandalf.png["]

As the grouping of orcs forced towards them, Gandalf had made himself ready for the brunt onslaught that was to follow them. He gripped his staff like a lifeline and had bared his weight just right for the attack. It wasn't the first battle he had ever seen nore would it be the last for the days to come. He knew that the battles would be closer and closer together for them all. The hairs on his arms bristled with the adreniline, excitement, and fear that overwhelmed him. But as the orcs finally had gotten to the point of being almost on top of him he dropped that fear to the back of his mind like pebble. It wasn't easy for him to do but he did it anyway, he had to for the sake of his survival and of the others.

Once they were clearly in Gandalf's range he did what he instinctual knew how to do and also trained to do, he brought his staff down and into a side arc swing that soared through the air with a audible swoosh, cracking right into the ribcage of the first orc it made contact with. He the brought it back and swung the other end to hit another orc in the lower abs, making it keel over in a grunt. Like a lion he swung with precision speed and like a snake he struck with venom and force. Each blow he made whether it was high or low it was with determination and intent. He knew the group was capable of protecting themselves but he felt highly responsible for them all.

Gandalf also kept a heavy hawk eye on Frodo. If he didn't all would be lost to the shadow and the old wizard was not about to let that happen to anyone. They needed to get that ring destroyed, he just wished it didn't have to be frodo's job to be the one to destroy it. Then again the most amazing surprises come from those who are not the usual, and most particularly small. Gandalf found that out a long time ago with Bilbo on the travels to find his sword that was being held captive by a dragon. The other reason was because he cared about the Baggins family. He didn't want to see anything happen to Frodo, that was the last thing Gandalf wanted to ever witness. He would rather die that see that.

"Watch your backs!" he called as he hit a few that were trying to seek up on some of the others from behind and then muttered as he turned to hit a few more trying to seek up on him, "Fools."

Now whether he was calling some of the group fools or if he was calling the orcs fools no one would know. Maybe it was both of them that he was getting after over the matter. Either way he still went back to fighting. Each orc he smacked he felt a certain satisfaction against Sauron. Even if it was no laughing matter. He was going to get them out of there if it were to be the last hting he ever did. He tried to draw closer to Frodo, but the onslaught of orcs was making getting anywhere near him almost nearly impossible. Gandalf had to try though, it was the best he could do in the heat of battling the monsters before them. If he couldn't get them out he hoped one of the others would, like Legolas.