The time to leave Moria draws near

Looking back I was so naive, so keen for adventure, so blind to the harsh reality of the Mines of Moria. It feels like years since I've felt the warmth of the sun on my skin. The inspiring light of day and the dark blanket of night have been replaced by the constant burning of torches and fires. The never ending threat of goblins and orcs is never far away.

The Iron Garrison guards and miners have been my companions in this place, proud and fearless, their courage knows no bounds. I've lost count of the number of orcs we've slain side by side. After days of endless skirmishes the danger has been repelled, at least for now, and I'm making ready to leave for Lothlórien and seek aid from the elves.

During my time in Moria my skills have improved ten-fold and I have the bitterness of a hardened veteran warrior to go with it. As a reward for my aid the dwarves have bestowed upon me enchanted swords and armour to aid me on my way. I've become especially skilled with a great two-handed sword, it's much more efficient at cutting downs swathes of beasts when they bunch together like mindless rabble.

However, I am looking forward to the feel of a shield in my off-hand again, although I will need some practise after so long. The good thing is, you can always count on another orc to put it's neck in the way of your sword...

Khazad-dûm - Durin's Threshold

Here at Durin’s Threshold, the westernmost edge of Moria, the new colonists of Khazad-dûm store supplies brought in from Eregion and bound for outposts deep within the Dwarf-city. Here, at the foot of the grand stairs, where new stables have been raised and old forges have been lit, great new sagas begin beneath the mountains.

Dwarves labor to revitalize their ancient home by unpacking their gear, exploring the darkest regions, patrolling the nearer ones, and stoking the fires of their hostel furnaces. A Stable-master waits to greet newcomers. Weary yet eager Dwarves seek out brave souls and strong arms to share the burdens of exploration and defense in these early new days beneath the mountain. Here, at least, haggard adventurers from Eriador can take a breath before braving the many perils to come.

Durin’s Threshold is comprised of three halls, with the grand entryway in the center and wings of furnaces to the north and south. Each is handsomely crafted in the manner of the Dwarves but modest compared to many of the older halls beyond. The masons of Moria designed these halls to whet a visitor’s appetite before he feasts on the visions within.

Hollin Gate

At the Stair Falls, it led over a small cliff, and then down a shallow valley running eastward, and led towards a wall of immense, unclimbable cliffs: the Walls of Moria.

Arriving at Hollins Gate I met up with an expedition of dwarves known as the Iron Garrison, lead by Brogur and Bosi. We made ourselves busy clearing rocks and trees from the gate. The air was heavy and dank and everyone could sense evil lurking close by. I'd heard tales of a demon living in the Black Pool for many years.

In the middle of the Second Age, the War of the Elves and Sauron saw Eregion laid waste, and the West-gate was shut. By the craft of its makers, the doorway blended into the Walls of Moria, and could only be opened again by one who knew the password.

Eregion

Arriving at Gwingris I decided to rest up for a week or so and enjoy the hospitality of the handful of elves that call this place home.

I've been adventuring hard in the past months and it was starting to take it's toll. My armour and weapons were in need of repair, as was my aching shield arm.

The days were growing ever shorter but I was thankful for the last few days of summer sunshine. I knew the road ahead lay under the mountains and who knows when I would feel the warmth of the sun on my skin again. I would need to be at my best for the journey to the Hollin Gate and then on into Khazad-dûm, the Mines of Moria.

Eregion or Hollin in the tongue of Men was a kingdom of the Noldorin Elves in Eriador during the Second Age, located near the West Gate of Khazad-dûm under the shadow of the Misty Mountains. The Elves of Eregion lived in harmony with a Dwarven civilization, trading freely with the Dwarven kingdom of Khazad-dûm, or Hadhodrond in the Elven tongue.

In the Third Age, Eregion now is a pleasant but unpopulated land, and contains many of the ruins of the Elven civilization that once thrived there. It is famous for its holly trees, whence the name in both (translated) Westron and Sindarin came from. Cooks will also find a bounty of abundant produce growing wild in the region.

Kauppa-kohta - Forochel

Forochel is a new frontier for the Free Peoples in the war against the Shadow in the North, accessible via the road north from Ost Forod in Evendim.

Even here, on the edge of Middle-earth, where the waters of the Great Sea are cold enough to kill and the memory of ancient evil lingers like a chill in the bones, the race of Man endures. Since the days of the First Age, a rare breed of Men has eked out a separate survival against the elements and without the influence of the nearby Enemy in Angmar.

Misty Mountains

The range’s history is as long and foggy as the mountain chain itself. Much of its lore is lost or forgotten, and even more is shrouded in the mists of legend. What is certain is that these steadfast peaks stood as an ancient witness to the epics, ancient and new, of both Eriador in the west and Rhovanion in the east. The first of the Seven Fathers of the Dwarves, Durin the Deathless, wandered these mountains in the early days of the earliest age of Middle-earth. His descendants delved mines and built halls throughout the range for thousands of years, and your own tale brings you here now.

Strange creatures dwell in the chill and fog of the Misty Mountains, where relics from older times linger in ice and snow. Yet amid these mountains, giants, and mammoths, even the smallest folk may change the fate of Middle-earth.

Rivendell

The hidden refuge of Elrond Halfelven, founded by Elrond in the Second Age against the assaults of Sauron in Eriador. It lay in a deep valley in the western foothills of the Misty Mountains, and endured, under the protection of Elrond's Ring Vilya, until the War of the Ring and beyond. After the War, the Ring's power ended and Elrond passed over the Sea, but Rivendell itself remained, at least for a time, in the keeping of Elrond's sons Elladan and Elrohir.

In the protected Valley of Rivendell, near the western slopes of the Misty Mountains stands the legendary House of Elrond, home to generations of noble Elves and a refuge for certain weary travelers in these dark days. Often called "The Last Homely House", this large and beautiful dwelling has been a tranquil yet well-protected and strongly-guarded refuge for as long as most memories can recall.