discardia

A mountain is above me. I wish I could climb it and summit with pride.

Too bad I am underneath the mountain… with a spoon worn down to a nubbin, a cracked headlamp that only shines half the time, and enough rations to see me through to next week sometime. I have found some tools lying about, but nothing to really speed me along. And I am an adventuring party of one.

Oh, and did I mention the goblins?

I keep hearing them bark and snarl from not too far behind me.

But they are catching up.

The drums. The drums from the deep.

…

Shit, I have somehow stumbled into Moria. (A mine they call it. A mine!)

…

And here I thought it was only a job. I guess I will have to follow my nose.

That way smells less foul.