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“I, Nyri, reported on this part of the journey of the Krusaders, and I hope I was up to the task.

We left the halls of Erebor before the first light broke on November 6th, 2989, accompanied by a crowd of proud fathers and emotional mothers. At the gate, we were approached by Dwalin, brother of Balin. He entrusted us with an old key carved with the number ‘17’. It might open a door or a trunk in Khazad-dum. He also showed all his brotherly love and asked us to keep Balin safe. Our quest seems to be more important than I initially thought.

We crossed the forest to the west. The many trees filtered the light better than the rocks of the lonely mountain. We walked for days led by Lothar Long-Axe without finding any game to eat. The wood was silent, but we had the impression we were never alone. Maybe the hunger made us paranoid, or maybe we were really being followed.

We reached the river and kept walking south till we reached a fork where we met humans: traders and soldiers. Sturgi, Balin’s bannerman, managed to get an audience with their leader. We were very successful in obtaining free passage for us and the rest of Balin’s expedition. Furthermore, we took a tour of their beehives and breweries and that night we enjoyed their mead made from honey and their food. I do not have many memories to report, for the sweet mead intoxicated me and dragged me to a deep sleep, but my companions said humans eat way too many greens.

In the morning we said farewell to our new friends and continued in a south-west direction towards the misty mountains. The folks of the fork warned us about orcs and goblins being more active in the area lately, and we were just about to witness that ourselves. On that night, our camp was visited by a pack of smelly worgs and uglily-laughing goblins. Our response was swift and effective: Sturgi rallied us, Onan and Lothar slayed multiple foes, Bruni pushed the rest of them into the forest, and I survived my first battle.

The day after we arrived at the base of the mountains. We reached the Dale and approached the legendary Mirrormere. The entrance of our ancestral home Khazad-dûm, was silent and dark. We scouted the area, bones hanging from a cage, blood stains on the gate. We crouched to spot movements. The gate opened, and a pack of orcs left the mountain, entering the wood.

We decided not to approach further but to find a side entrance to avoid having to face possible guardians at the gate. We walked north, in the direction of the old fortress of Barazinbar. There, sentinel towers are still standing, and we might find a way into the mountain from there.

We tried to stay out of sight, but something followed our movements: black birds circling our heads, moving back and forth from the mountain to the forest, too far to be taken down with arrows, too close to be ignoring us.

Balin one week behind us, the mountain closed in front of us, black birds over our heads. Might Durin assist us.”

-Nyri, Khazad-dûm Krusaders