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Tumunzahar makes Menegroth look like a contract project. Which, the Dwarves assure her, it was. The stonework is astonishingly careful and beautiful, silky to the touch up close while from a distance it gives the impression of stretching on forever above, a sky of stone with crystals for stars. Vast natural cave systems are connected by dozens of perfectly smooth, gently sloped broad stone pathways from which the fall, if she fell, would be several miles down. There are handrails. "We use those to move materials carts," someone explains to her, "we're not going to be reckless."
There's an amphitheater, a place where a hundred of the stone walkways twine around to create space for a hundred thousand people to sit in close proximity, and someone is giving a lecture or a demonstration at the base of it, the seats closest to him filled with eager, tiny, bearded Dwarf-children.
And they spiral down, and down, and down, past waterfalls and egg-sized gemstones left half in the rock and halls of crystal. Everything grows gradually more ornate and more perfectly maintained and the clang of hammers fades behind them. "People say," her guide says, "that we only have a council instead of a single King because there were nine winners of the competition to design the throne so we couldn't just select one person to sit it." And they push open the doors to reveal, indeed, nine thrones so elaborate it would be hard to choose between them, and nine squat bearded people sitting them.
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purposeful_glory
Probably, she acknowledges. You're sure taking Vár was all he did? Didn't replace one of you, didn't plant an extra orc in the collection -?
Not sure. I can verify that now?
purposeful_glory
Please do. And she sends a summary to all the other guards too in case this particular guard was replaced.
A minute later, nervously, we don't have a system for this and I'd really really hate to accuse anyone falsely. But.
People are arguing. A couple people didn't answer questions that I'd have expected they'd know and then one accused the other of being an imposter and then everyone's panicked.
purposeful_glory
All right. Call a stop, I'm coming down, ask me whatever you like and I'll play Macalaurë's lie detection song.
He sounds relieved. Thank you.
And the guards gather around warily, some of them with weapons out.
purposeful_glory
"Anybody want to verify I'm me or should we skip ahead? Have we got a linguistics nerd in the troupe? Anybody want to be themselves turned into a bird, that'd be harder to fake."
Someone volunteers, though she looks terrified.
And with Loki's identity verified they can check everyone else.
"I serve the House of Fëanor," the first one says. "I serve Moringotto." The first rings true, the second false.
"I serve the House of Fëanor. I serve Moringotto." True, false.
"I serve the House of Fëanor. I serve Moringotto." True, false.
And then someone turns into a Balrog, and blasts away the people nearest her.
"I serve the House of Fëanor. I serve Moringotto." True, false.
"I serve the House of Fëanor. I serve Moringotto." True, false.
And then someone turns into a Balrog, and blasts away the people nearest her.
purposeful_glory
...Those things explode. "Get clear so I can fucking kill this thing," she tells everyone else, placing healing songs on everybody blasted, shaking Lævateinn out into a spear and charging the Balrog. She's already blue.
It races for the orcs.
purposeful_glory
"Get clear," she yells to them too, and she stabs the Balrog and does the spikes trick and yanks. Maybe with the oomph song she can haul it over her head and slam it on the ground to the other side of her.
Even with the oomph song she can't quite do that, but it stops its charge and turns around to lash at her, and the orcs clamber out of the way.
purposeful_glory
She yanks the barbed weapon out, jumps out of the way, blinds it, deafens it, gives it another jab - everybody out of the way yet?
They're still running, but they're farther away then she remembers the last fireball consuming, no one's going to be caught in an explosion but her -
purposeful_glory
- and she made it through the last one fine.
ICE TO THE FUCKING FACE.
ICE TO THE FUCKING FACE.
The fireball scorches ten yards of the ground, leaves a crater at the center, throws her backwards. No more Balrog.
purposeful_glory
She heals herself, rolls, kips up on her feet.
"Does anybody ELSE want to turn out to be a Balrog? I dueled THAURON yesterday and I'm in a REALLY BAD MOOD, BALROGS CAN LINE THE FUCK UP."
"Does anybody ELSE want to turn out to be a Balrog? I dueled THAURON yesterday and I'm in a REALLY BAD MOOD, BALROGS CAN LINE THE FUCK UP."