As you speak your oath to Nienna, pledging yourself to She who is Compassion, you see her smile with a sadness you do not yet understand. She takes your disembodied essence in her hand, soothing it with her song. She says : « I accept your oath and your service. Redempton needs more advocates in this world and only those ho have travelled the darkest road can truly lead others into the light. Painful will be your journey, full of hardships and obstacles for every soul that walk under me share in my mourning. Nevertheless you will be granted a new form to be the symbol of your rebirth. Anorestel I name you : Fire of Hope for if you can redeem yourself, perhaps my brother will at the end. »
Her song breaks around you leading your naked spirit to its home in the caverns of Moria. You do not regain your body for the Song of Nienna changes it as it changes you. You tower still over the throngs of the livings, being twice the height of the tallest Men. Basalt and obsidian is your skin, black now not like unnatural darkness but like the men of Morenor. Like a dark bird are your wings. Sweet and lambent are your flames, burning bright as the moon in heavens. As a great king of many men is your face, scarred and charred by wounds but possessed of a sad majesty.
Your mind has changed also. Now in place of dark dreams, you see glimpse of machines and gears. Great edifices carrying water to cities, fire that burns even on water, crops that wil abols famine, flame that burns disease. All that and more you remember having heard in the song of Aulë and Melkor at the beginning of time ere the Discord was a thing.
The main changement is the most drastic. Before you were nailed to your body as if he was not a fana, a flesh vestment, but an hroa a body of flesh like the Children of Illiuvatar. Now while still you cannot rejct it like mortal do their clothes, you can alternate between your accustomed form and that of a bearded man clad in violet robes, back bent by the burdens of the road, bones aching with the woes of the world, crying not for himself but for others, a staff like a cypress branch in hand.
While you ponder your new abilities, you hear the rumours of conflict. You dimly remember that Azog, the Boldog-spawn that declared himself « King » over these dead halls gave offense to the dwarves, beheading a visitor and warning his companion to his presence. In retrospect that was quite the foolish move as the dwarves made war on the Orcs, slaughterng them in great numbers. Completely awake you think upon your next move.
[] Let the battle play out.
[] Go to the East-Gate and decide on what you should do.