The Voice in the Wind

Gathering supplies in Rivendell, I made sure to pack various essentials into my storage, food, and water as much as I could carry. As I was placing a couple of cooked meats into my storage, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"Ellehish," Elrond called, as I turned to face him. He approached with a solemn expression, carrying two weapons wrapped in fine cloth.

"Lord Elrond," I acknowledged, wiping my hands on my tunic as I walked over to him.

He placed the two wrapped weapons on the table as he motioned for me to come closer. He unwrapped the cloth to reveal a beautifully crafted spear and a short elven blade. "I understand you lost your weapons in your journey here," he said, extending them toward me. "These are for you."

Taking the weapons, I felt a surge of energy as soon as my hands touched them. An information tab appeared in front of my eyes.

**Spear Of Rivendell**

*Type:* Spear 

*Weight:* 12 

*Value:* 3000 

*Description:* A finely crafted spear from Rivendell, known for its sharp blade and sturdy shaft.

**Effects:** 10 percent more damage against orcs

- **Base Damage:** 16

- **Reach:** 1.4

- **Durability:** 500

- **Enchantment Slot:** Empty

---

**Elven Short Blade**

*Type:* Short Blade 

*Weight:* 6 

*Value:* 2000 

*Description:* An elegant short blade, lightweight.

**Effects:** 10 percent more damage against goblins

 **Durability:** 400

**Enchantment Slot:** Empty

I blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sudden influx of information. Elrond, noting my reaction, gave a slight smile. "I see you find them to your liking?"

I nodded. "Yes! thank you. These will be perfect." I said as I tightened the sword pelt around my hip.

Elrond's expression turned serious. "You embark on a dangerous journey. I hope these gifts are useful to you."

As I finished securing the weapons, Elrond continued. "The fellowship is being formed as we speak. You should meet with the others in the main hall when you're ready."

I nodded, feeling somewhat excited, these would help me gain the experience that I needed. "Thank you, Lord Elrond. I'll be there shortly."

As Elrond walked away, I finished packing my supplies. The courtyard buzzed with activity, elves preparing for the fellowship's departure.

Heading towards the main hall, I encountered various members of the fellowship. The hobbits were together, their faces a mix of excitement and worry. Aragorn was checking his gear, his expression as stoic as ever. Legolas stood silently, his sharp eyes watching everything, while Gimli looked around with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity, clearly uncomfortable in the elven realm.

Inside the hall, Gandalf was speaking with Elrond and Boromir. As I approached, Gandalf turned to me with a warm smile. "Ellehish, I see you are ready."

I nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Elrond addressed the group, his voice carrying the gravity of the moment. "You are the Fellowship of the Ring," he said. "Each of you I wish you a safe journey." These kind words where ultimately false since I knew what was to come.

Gandalf nodded in agreement. "We face a perilous journey. The path to Mordor is fraught with danger, but together, we can succeed."

I nodded and left, heading to check up on Aragorn, who was adjusting his gear. "Ready for this?" he asked.

"yeah this isn't my first quest to stop a massive evil force," I replied, in a joking manner. "Besides I've got some new toys to play with," I added with a smirk, patting the spear and short blade at my side.

Aragorn chuckled. "Good to hear you should tell me about it someday. And remember, we rely on each other out there. No lone heroics."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said, giving him a nod.

As the fellowship gathered, Elrond gave us a final nod of encouragement as we set out from Rivendell, our destination clear but the path uncertain, I waved to Arwen and she waved us off.

As we made our way through the gates and into the wild, I glanced back at Rivendell one last time. I should ask for some blueprints when this is all over for future use.

As we journeyed through the vast and varied landscapes of Middle-earth, I couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and familiarity, It was the feeling I got when I had watched the movies, an odd feeling of home but even in my mind I know this was not the cause. Yet, being here in person, it all felt more real, more immediate.

One evening, as we made camp, Boromir took it upon himself to start teaching Merry and Pippin how to handle a sword. The hobbits, though eager, were clumsy and inexperienced. I had been watching them and I couldn't help but chuckle. Their laughter and Boromir's good-natured teasing brought a sense of normalcy.

"Two points!" Boromir declared as he disarmed Pippin with a swift move, sending the hobbit tumbling into the snow.

"Well, at least you got that part right," I commented with a smirk, leaning against a tree as I watched the impromptu lesson.

Aragorn sat nearby, sharpening his sword. "You could show them a thing or two," he suggested, glancing up at me.

"Maybe later," I replied, my eyes scanning the surrounding trees. "For now, I'm more concerned about our next move." well that and I didn't want to embarrass myself.

Gandalf joined us, his pipe in hand. "We must decide our path," he said, looking towards the distant mountains. "The Pass of Caradhras lies ahead. It will be a difficult journey, but it is our best option."

I frowned, remembering the struggle from the movies. "That's a waste of time," I said bluntly. "We're going to get stuck in a snowstorm. We should head for the mines of Moria. It'll be tough, but at least we won't freeze."

Gimli, who had been silent until now, nodded in agreement. "I say we take the mines. My cousin Balin would give us a royal welcome."

Aragorn looked skeptical. "The mines are dangerous. We don't know what we'll find down there."

"And we don't know what we'll find up there," I countered, pointing to the looming mountains. "I say we avoid the snow and take our chances underground."

Gandalf puffed thoughtfully on his pipe. "The decision must be made soon. The longer we stay out in the open, the greater the danger."

Our debate was interrupted by a sudden change in the air. Legolas, his eyes sharp, scanned the sky. "Crebain from Dunland!" he called out urgently.

"Hide!" Aragorn ordered, his voice low but firm.

We scattered, seeking cover under rocks and bushes. I pressed myself against the trunk of a large tree, my heart pounding as the dark shapes of the crows swooped overhead. Their harsh cries echoed through the valley, a stark reminder of the dangers that pursued us.

As the crows passed and the tension eased, we regrouped. Gandalf's expression was grim. "We must move quickly. They will report our position to Saruman."

And so we quickly packed our things and sadly went up the mountain. The journey up Caradhras began, the cold wind biting at our faces as we ascended the steep path. Snow-covered peaks loomed above us, their icy grandeur was beautiful. The snow crunched under our boots, except for Legolas, who moved lightly over the surface, his steps leaving barely a trace.

I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at how effortlessly he navigated the treacherous terrain. "Must be nice to float over the snow like that," I muttered to no one in particular, my breath visible in the frigid air.

Legolas, overhearing, glanced back with a small smile. "It does have its advantages."

"Show off," I grumbled under my breath, though I couldn't help but smile back. The snow, despite its challenges, reminded me of home. Skyrim's winters were much worse than this, and I found a strange comfort in the cold.

The path grew steeper, the wind more fierce as we climbed higher. The hobbits struggled, their small bodies not built for things like this. Boromir, Aragorn, and I took turns helping them.

"How much further?" Pippin asked, his voice trembling with cold and fatigue.

"Not far," Aragorn assured him, though his eyes betrayed his concern. The snow was getting deeper, and the wind showed no signs of letting up.

Gandalf led the way, his staff guiding us through the blinding white. "We must press on," he urged. "The mountain will not defeat us."

As we continued, the snowstorm intensified, the wind howling like a living creature. The snow piled up around us, making each step more laborious than the last. Moments like these I was glad I had the stamina of a werewolf.

We huddled together during a brief rest, trying to shield ourselves from the biting wind. Legolas stood apart, his keen eyes scanning the path ahead. Gimli, huddled next to me, muttered curses under his breath.

"This is fucking stupid," I said, my voice barely audible over the wind. "We're going to get buried up here."

Gimli nodded in agreement, his beard encrusted with ice. "Aye, this is no place for Dwarves... or anyone else, for that matter."

The wind howled around us, carrying with it a voice that seemed to mock our efforts. It was Saruman, using his magic to bring down the mountain upon us. Rocks and snow cascaded down, threatening to bury us alive.

"We must turn back!" I shouted, trying to make myself heard over the din.

"No!" Gandalf countered, raising his staff. "We make for the Redhorn Gate!"

The wind continued to howl around us as we descended, carrying with it the malevolent whispers of Saruman. His voice seemed to taunt us, growing louder and more insistent with each step we up the mountain. "You will not succeed."

But it was clear we couldn't continue. The path was too dangerous, and the avalanche had made it impassable.

We couldn't keep following this path we could all die. "There is no way through. Turn back, turn back!" And as I picked up Frodo and Sam the others had no choice but to follow me.

And as we walked slowly back I turned to look back as the snow storm fluttered my hair everywhere.

"We need to find another way," I said, brushing snow from my hair. "The mines of Moria. It's our best chance."

Aragorn nodded, though his expression was grim. "It seems we have little choice."

Gimli's eyes lit up with a mixture of hope and determination. "Aye, the mines. We'll find safety there."

But the decision wasn't ours to make alone. Frodo, who I was carrying his face pale from the cold spoke up. "We will go through the mines," he said, his voice steady despite the tremble in his limbs. "Gandalf, I need your guidance."

Gandalf, with a deep sigh, nodded. "So be it. The road to Moria it is."

After hours of trudging through the snow, we finally reached the base of the mountain and began making our way toward a hidden path into the mines. The landscape changed gradually, the snow giving way to rocky terrain. The air grew warmer, though the chill of the mountain lingered.

A few day later, we approached the entrance, and a sense of unease settled over the group. We reached the great rock door, its surface glowing faintly in the dim light. Gandalf approached it, studying the runes etched into the stone. "Speak, friend, and enter," he read aloud, his voice reverberating in the still air.

The rest of us stood back, watching anxiously as Gandalf tried to decipher the riddle. I was messing with a new sitting I had found in my system, the crown I was wearing allowed me to choose the language I could speak but it was set to translate everything currently. Clicking through it until I found the language I needed. "Mellon!" I shouted as the doors opened and Pipin was about to toss a stone into the lake. "Everyone inside and Pippin, don't, just don't." I returned the setting back to normal.

As we entered the Mines of Moria, the atmosphere shifted palpably. The air grew cooler and stale. The entrance closed behind us with a dull thud, enveloping us in darkness, punctuated only by the soft glow of Gandalf's staff. The silence of the mines was profound, almost suffocating, as if the weight of the mountain pressed down upon us.

I felt a bit of relief as we ventured deeper into the labyrinthine tunnels. The walls were lined with ancient Dwarvish runes, and the echoes of our footsteps seemed to stir whispers from the shadows. Gimli took the lead, his earlier enthusiasm dampened by the somber reality of the place.

"This is the work of my people," he said, his voice reverberating off the stone. "My cousin Balin would have welcomed us, but I fear we are far from any welcome now."

As we progressed, the dim light from Gandalf's staff was hardly sufficient to light our way adequately. I decided it was time to use some of my own magic to aid our passage. Concentrating, I summoned a Mage Light spell, a glowing orb of light that floated just above my head, casting a gentle illumination around us.

**Spell Cost: Mage Light - 5 MP every 20 mins**

**Current MP: 480 - 5 = 475**

The orb flickered to life, casting long shadows behind the columns and across the dusty floors. The fellowship paused momentarily, their faces bathed in the soft light, each shadow seeming to tell a story of ages long past.

"Your talents are most useful, Ellehish," Gandalf noted with a nod of appreciation. "This light will guide us well."

Legolas, who had been quietly surveying the corridors, suddenly halted. "There are old powers at work in this mine," he whispered. "I can feel them."

I felt it too, a subtle thrumming through the stone, an echo of the deep magic that once breathed life into the mines. We continued in silence, each lost in thought, the only sound of our footsteps and the distant, occasional drip of water from the ceiling.

As we reached a crossroads, Gandalf paused, his brow furrowed in concentration. The paths before us stretched into darkness, each as foreboding as the last. He looked from one tunnel to the other, his expression one of uncertainty.

"Left or right, Gandalf?" Aragorn asked, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

The wizard's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the dark corridors. "I have no memory of this place," he admitted softly.

A chill ran down my spine at his words. Gandalf's uncertainty meant that we were truly in uncharted territory. The fellowship looked to one another, the weight of our situation settling in. And I didn't remember this part of the movie since it was so long ago.

 The light from my Mage Light spell cast eerie patterns on the walls, the ancient stone whispering secrets of a forgotten era.

"We should take a moment to rest," Gandalf finally said, his voice echoing slightly in the vast chamber. "We will decide our path after a short reprieve."

The fellowship settled into a guarded rest, weapons close at hand, eyes wary. As the light from my spell flickered, casting soft illumination around us, I slide down the cave wall as I sat. I was tired fuck climbing a mountain for a while.

As we rested, I kept the Mage Light active, its presence a small comfort in the enveloping darkness of Moria. My thoughts drifted to my companions, to the paths we had chosen, and to the uncertain road ahead.

**Current MP: 460**