hen
the world was young and the kingdoms
of
Men were still finding their place, Durin,
father of the Dwarves, made his home
at
the centre of the Misty Mountains. Beneath
the peaks of Zirak-zigil, Barazinbar,
and
Bundushathûr, Durin’s folk
carved out a vast kingdom forged from
Dwarven skill and the wealth of the mountains.
Driven by their lust for Mithril, successive
generations of Dwarves delved ever deeper
into the roots of the mountains, until
their industry proved their undoing.
In
a dark and dismal place, where the only
sound was the fall of hammers and picks
and the only light came from torches
and
candles, the Dwarves awoke their doom:
a Balrog of Morgoth, a deadly creature
of shadow and flame, which rose from
the
depths and unleashed its fury. |
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n
a series of devastating battles that
consumed
the lower levels in fire, the Balrog
slew Durin, the King of Khazad-dûm,
and brought ruin to his armies.
Since the sack of Khazad-dûm, the
halls of Dwarrowdelf have fallen into
the hands of Goblins. Now it is called
Moria — the "Black Pit." No more
does the air ring to the sound of hammer
on
anvil or the crash of picks against rock.
The halls no longer echo the rich music
of Dwarf songs. Now there is only the
skittering of claws on stone and the
laughter
of Goblin voices echoing through the
broken halls. Cobwebs and debris fill
the passageways
and halls, and the once-fine stonework
is cracked and defiled. |
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n
the years since the fall of Khazad-dûm,
the survivors of Durin’s line
have become scattered across Middle-earth.
Some few of the Dwarf holds remain from
the ancient days, and new ones have
been
founded. Of these, Erebor is the most
worthy successor to Khazad-dûm.
The Lonely Mountain, as Erebor is
often
known, is ruled by the wise king Dáin,
a fierce and noble leader who embodies
the might of the kings of Khazad-dûm
that was.
Now, Durin’s folk long for the
time when they have gathered sufficient
strength
to storm Khazad-dûm, slay the evil
that lurks there, and wrest their ancestral
home from the clutches of the Goblins
who pollute it. Until now, any attempt
to do so has failed at terrible cost,
for even Dwarvish courage is no match
for that ancient menace. Yet the Dwarves
do not lose hope. They wait with grim
determination for a time when the Balrog
might be vanquished and the axes of
the
Dwarves might taste vengeance. |
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