K31 - Dear Diary...

This session continues on the dungeon delve involving all PCs deep into the 4th level. They left to find out more about the curse of the Balrog. They found it. The following is the narrative as recounted by the mysterious bride that just got rescued.

Dear Diary

I came back to life as if drawn from a dreamless sleep about two days ago. I was trapped inside a sarcophagus. I tried to pull myself out, then I panicked and started to scream and thrash. My vision was blurred and my speech slurred when the cover of the sarcophagus got removed. 

I remember two dwarves pulling me out unceremoniously. They ran, some screamed. I was soon lying in the dowery room, surrounded by a dozen warriors. There was this tall and handsome one named Gror. He was a hunk. When I asked to see my future husband, they all looked perplexed. The viceroy, an older dwarf, spoke up but no one was listening. Gror climbed up on a chest and silenced the audience. A younger one name Khazek stayed by my side throughout. I remembered then how he was the one who pulled me out of the sarcophagus. Although he was young, and at the leaner end of healthy.  Still, I was fond of him. 

I noticed in the far corner of the treasure room an elf. Her clothes were in tatter, which showed part of her hindquarter. She applied elf magic to some, maybe even to me. I grew impatient at this insolence. The voice of the Viceroy boomed in the hall and everyone shut up. The viceroy, a nice man, asked me if I could control the attraction that I have over the warriors. What a funny question. They should all bow before me and deal with it. 

Bain explained to me that Khazad-dum had fallen in the hands of orcs and a demon. That they were the descendents from the line of Durin on a quest to revive the mountainhome. When I heard that my kingdom was no more, I flew into a rage. I drew forces that I didn't really have and launched into a shaming monolog that sent the warrior staring at their boots. I headed for my dowery and grabbed a small throwing hammer from it. I pondered smashing the elf's skull, but I couldn't see her anymore. 

I walked to the exit of the dowery room with the hammer in hand. A handsome and burly warrior ran ahead of me while the other were trying to get me back to the litter. I held Thordar's hand as we climbed the stairs. We reentered the sarcophagus' room where we clashed with wraiths and a moving mass of black mud. The going was difficult, and I was on the verge of passing out again. Khazek held me tight and protected me from the attack of a wraith. He took a nearly mortal blow to himself to keep me safe. 

The scene got crowded and chaotic, Thordar ran to me to cover my back and cut a wraith to pieces with and Ithilnaur dagger. There was a flash which knocked life out of my body. I was listless, gone.

When I woke up, we were in another chamber. Thordar had almost perished saving me from the wraith and had been healed by the elf-witch. She had slipped on some of my own gowns which made her look like an underfed cow covered in royal regalia. Thordar had been hurt in the way here by a trap sprung by Khazek and Gror. The company was exhausted, unable to move anymore. Grown dwarves were crying in the dark. Some were muttering to themselves or rocking while whimpering.  The royal dwarves such as Bain, Khazek and Gror seemed to have a cooler head. Thordar was sleeping alongside of me, holding my hand. 

Hours passed. I kept on listening for signs but the muttering of one of the battleguard dwarf kept on interrupting my thoughts. He was mad, resentful. He was promising himself to "make things right". I turned my head, he had a crazed look in his eyes, a hatchet in his hand.