The Mysterious Tomb

It is Harvonir, having found something of interest, who directs them through the northern arch of the massive hall, down a well-constructed corridor, towards a glimmer of light that seems to stream from windows high in the wall. Turning east, they are faced with a set of doors that appear new, a stark contrast with the rest of Moria. Pushing through, they find themselves in a chamber of considerable size. A beam of light falls squarely onto a rectangular slab in the chamber's centre, and the companions approach it without at first realising what their feet stumble up against ...

... corpses, lifeless and fleshless, the scene of vicious slaughter that took place a long while ago. Forvonir climbs up the stairs. ''Orcs and dwarves everywhere. There was a battle here. But what kind of creature could do this destruction?'' Toppled pillars, rubble and carnage, bloodstained shields, broken swords and cloven helms are everywhere. The eastern end of the chamber appears to have caved in utterly, making it hard to tell if there was ever another door into this chamber, another route out.

The walls that remain intact are lined with recessed spaces, some empty, others holding iron-bound chests of wood. They have come upon a place of storage, then, but whatever precious items were here hoarded, whether treasure, weapons, armour or unknown spoils, must now be lost to plunderers, or to time.

Forvonir steps closer to the marble stone. ''Dwarven runes. I can't read them.'' Minnwen runs her hand across the stone slab, feeling the inscription. The light from her crystal brings it sharply into focus, but she shakes her head. For now, whoever is buried in this place, and whatever befell its guardians, seems destined to remain a mystery to the company.

Fearing an ambush should they linger, they re-enter the corridor, continuing their journey north. Before long, the passageway opens to a well-lit crossroads (the Stone Hall) holding a strange and ingenious contraption ...

Shafts of sunlight from the surface have been directed underground to illumine the caverns of Moria, using a system of gigantic, angled mirrors.

To the southeast, dwarven guards have established another small outpost, Jazârgund. When Forvonir inquires of them, one of the guards looks nervously at the explorers. "Longshanks," he mutters. "Yer wanna beware. Orcs to the right, and Orcs to the left. But the western path will take you to higher ground, and the eastern — well, beyond the orcs is where the path goes deep and unknown." Harvonir casts his vote, sealing the unanimous decision. ''Dwarves are hard-headed folks, if they say that a path is dangerous, then maybe we should take their word for it.''

West along an impressive passageway that appears well preserved, an unbelievable sight materialises in the distance ...

Forvonir looks around. ''A garden under the mountain!''

It is verdant life coaxed from bare rock, a testimony to the inventiveness (who would have thought?) and hard work of the dwarves. They have arrived at Tharâkh-Bazân, and if the sky-less, star-less gloom of Khazad-dûm has begun to weigh on the Men's and Elf's hearts, the sight of waterfalls and trees is a welcome reminder that they have reached the upper levels of the kingdom. And yet, the inscriptions on the unknown tomb are now marked deep in their minds — will their fate in Moria be the same?

#TwentyFirstHall #BalinsTomb #ChamberofMazarbul #StoneHall #Jazârgund