The Other Ranger [ Lord Of The Rings x Silmarillion ]

Exploring the Mines

"Stop and think, Miril," she muttered to herself on the edge of the bridge. "Explore before you dive in."

Heeding her own advice to herself, Miril looked around and spotted something strange. What had seemed like a ledge along the wall before was now more clearly a rugged path, designed to be inconspicuous. She decided to follow that first before risking the open bridge.

It wasn't large by any stretch of the imagination. Miril had to slide along the edge, her feet barely able to remain fully placed on the stone. But the wall had been smoothed of large protruding outcrops, making it really not that difficult, all things considered, to use the path. As she turned a corner in the ledge, she came to something she realized she should've expected. After all, almost all fortresses had one.

Miril had come upon a postern door in the rocks. Postern doors, or gates, were small, inconspicuous exits used by defenders usually to flank an enemy or as a backup plan. No doubt this particular door would allow her to sneak around the bridge as it had once allowed the dwarves to do.

"Come on. There has to be a mechanism somewhere." Miril looked the door up and down before finally spotting a small lever hidden in the wall. "There you are."

She pulled it and the door opened silently. However the amount of dust that had built up sent Miril into a fit of coughs as it was released into the air. She covered her mouth and coughed as quietly as she could. When she had finished, Miril glanced around and didn't move an inch. She listened for any signs of life but nothing made a noise.

"Blasted door." She groaned quietly and moved on into the room.

The ceiling wasn't very high at all; she could've touched it if she'd stood on her toes. No doubt the dwarves felt no need to waste time on a secret back entrance. Still, it made her slightly claustrophobic. The darkness around her was thick.

After the ceiling, the first thing she noticed was the skeletons. Very old, they seemed. Covered in spider webs and caked in dust, some clutched axes and spears while others held onto shields. Likely this had been a line of defence for the dwarves.

"Balin's company, perhaps? Maybe there are still some alive further in?" She spoke her hopes aloud but in the darkness it sounded more like a child begging for a gift.

She tiptoed around the skeletons and loose bones that littered the stone floor. Remnants of a rug of some kind, mostly eaten away by the cruel passage of time, was also before her. She carefully avoided as much of it as she could, not wanting to throw any more dust into the air.

Miril looked on ahead and opened a door at the other end of the room. It opened onto a long passage that wove its way down for quite a ways.

"Down we go, I suppose."

It made sense though. Gollum was likely somewhere down lower in Moria, not in the higher levels. So she continued down the steps inside the passage cut out of stone. After about ten minutes of walking, she found it opened onto a ledge one way where a bridge went across the chasm, and the other way opened into a large room where it appeared that armor and weapons was stored.

Her innate curiosity very much peaked, Miril decided to explore the room first. She walked inside and took a look. Ancient weapons of dwarf make lined the walls. Miril also noted that they resembled elven blades too. She supposed this was a result of the relations between Celebrimbor's folk in Eregion, and the line of Durin that lived in Moria. These weapons were from a time before Durin's Bane had walked Moria's halls.

Durin's Bane. Miril and most, if not all, scholars did not know what had driven the dwarves from their ancestral home. Something very powerful it must've been to drive an entire people out of Khazad-dum. A dragon, maybe? That was Miril's rather amateur guess. Dwarven culture had not been her study. She had spent her time studying the history of the Eldar and the Numenoreans. Her history.

Miril ran her finger along the edge of a sword blade and yelped.

"Still sharp," she noted, squeezing the small cut on her finger until it stopped bleeding.

In vain hope, Miril glanced around the room for something very specific. Mithril. But alas, none was to be found. She wasn't surprised; despite the multitude of very elvish looking blades, the orcs had likely plundered this room already. In fact the swords were still here, most likely, because they resembled elvish artifacts. Orcs hated those with a burning passion and would often not approach a sword of elf make.

Miril turned to leave the room when she noticed something slightly off. A small pile of bones was hidden in the corner. Mostly leg and arm bones, they were pushed under a shelf that held weapons.

"Hello," Miril said quietly, kneeling down to take a closer look.

Clearly they had been gathered by something intelligent. But were they from recent kills, or too old to matter much. If they were recent, it might indicate Gollum had been there. Miril reached out and pulled the top bone off the pile. She realized immediately that it was not a dwarf bone. Much more likely that it had belonged to an orc or goblin. Also there was only a very thin layer of dust, and it did not crack upon being handled.

"Definitely recent, maybe a couple weeks old." Miril said to herself.

This was very promising indeed. Gollum probably wasn't the only thing that fed on orcs in Moria, but this seemed to line up with what she knew of his habits. Upon closer inspection of the room, Miril decided there was little else of importance. Any other trace of where Gollum had gone or been was no longer there.

She left the room, heading back to where the bridge spanned the fifty foot chasm. Somewhere far above her was the Bridge of Khazad-dum, but despite that being the more obvious choice for safety to stay above the lower levels, she was glad of her choice. Not only had she found signs of Gollum, but she had found this much more pleasant looking bridge. Four dwarves could've walked side by side and still had room to breathe. There was a guard that went up to about her knee on the edges. And it looked altogether safer.

She went across the very long bridge quickly, for despite the safer appearance, it was also in danger of being watched just as the Bridge of Khazad-dum had. Once on the other side, she walked through the arched gate and into a long passage with many side rooms and side hallways.

She decided to do things systematically. Starting on the right, which had the closest door, investigate each room. She thanked Eru for the more sensitive eyesight she had inherited from her elven ancestry. It meant she could see most things, albeit in much less detail, without having to light a fire. She had constructed several torches in Mirkwood and been given a few others from the Galadhrim, so if needed she could light them.

Miril walked into the first room and noted right away there were dozens of stone beds lining the walls. Immediately she realized where she was.

"Barracks. These must be living quarters for the soldiers," she said out loud.

Curious as to what she would find with a closer look, Miril decided it was indeed time to light a torch. Using her flint and a torch from the Galadhrim, she sparked a fire and it began to roar with flames. Shadows danced all around her now, the sudden light driving the darkness away immediately.

Miril was astounded at how many beds there were. Down the center of the room stood racks of weapons and armor, but to either side along the walls were stone beds. Miril wondered just how uncomfortable they must've been. But at the moment it looked somewhat inviting. Cozy even, with the warm glow of the torch. No skeletons were in this room, but based on the amount of dust in certain piles, and the helmets and armor around those piles, he guessed that there had been at some point several skeletons both orcish and dwarven.

Deciding to check across the hall next and wanting to maximize the use of her torch, Miril left the room. She went to the door to the left of the large hallway and walked inside. It was a mirror image of the other one, only one of the several armor racks had been knocked over in this room.

She continued searching the rooms and found them all go be barracks. In the final room she was going to search that day as her torch was dying, she brushed off a stone bed in the back corner and lay down with her pack as a pillow and cloak as a blanket. Her sword was in her hand. She stomped out what little light remained in the torch before allowing herself a little sleep.