Aeonian [Legolas]

11

Viridis doubted he could fall asleep even if all gods condemned it. There was just something... off in the night breeze that drifted into the cave; something unforgiving. And it kept him on edge. Even Bofur who usually hadn't the troublesome experiences of finding comfort in off places was on edge, shifting irregularly in hopes of taming something that could never be tamed.

The Mori Twins that lay idle side by side, carefully arranged in close proximity took on a shade of blue, their glow warning of unknown dangers that were soon to be known. Viridis' head snapped up, eyes locking with the leader of the company but Thorin was already awake, gaze already on him.

No words needed to be said.

Orcs.

Thorin was on his feet in an instant. "Wake up! Wake up!" He cried out, gaze fixed soundly on something entirely different now. Viridis followed it, brows furrowing in alarm as he noted the way the sand splitting the cave down the middle seemed to sink inwards on itself; collapsing into an area that should have been impossible given sturdy ground.

Only barely did he manage to get a feeble hold on his blades before the ground he was on was giving way, caving in just like the sand and taking him with it.

There was not even a moment for a single profanity to leak from any of their mouths.

Down and down they all went, free-falling for a time only to come crashing into uneven surfaces and thrown back out once more. It was too fast a fall to survey any surroundings but the air had shifted; had become thicker, resembling something more akin to an indoor market than the cool cave they had been resting in just moments prior.

Their landing was nothing short of bruise-inducing. Even Viridis who prided himself on landing on his feet, felt his knees buckle and hands grasp the unknown railing of their new surroundings when he ceased falling.

The rest of the company, once more, hadn't been so lucky and they all groaned upon impact; disgruntled with the sudden acute wake-up call.

Before any of them so much had the time to voice the one congruent syllable resembling something along the lines of 'what the hell', they were ambushed. It seemed a true night's rest was nothing more than a figment in their imaginations now.

Goblins. Dozens of them, in all their glory and wickedness, rushed at the company. Hands outreached, they growled when the Dwarves tried to fight back. Their attempts, however, seemed to be painfully in vain. They were simply too outnumbered to fight them all off and after falling hundreds of feet through the air, they hadn't enough wits about themselves to get a good grip on any of their weapons.

Viridis too was handled with little regard for safety and was jostled around, pushed forward, and, if he didn't move, pulled.

Soon enough, he found it was just easier to walk forward of his own will and find out what was waiting at the other end of whatever underground cave these Goblins had made their home.

They were pushed along a long expanse of bridge, each step holding firm with each step Viridis expected a board of wood to simply splinter beneath his footing and fall down-- wherever 'down' was.

The whole area seemed to be resting on some kind of island, and where the water was... it was too dark and too far to tell.

When they came to a stop, it was to the not-so-kind ransacking and violation of Viridis' figure as Goblins stripped him of his twin blades and added them to the growing pile front and center. Viridis felt almost bare without them. Twice this journey already he had found himself in this position, once with Trolls, and now with Goblins.

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" A voice said, this one depicting words that were more than just grunts and growls. But the thing it belonged to, well, it was slowly replacing that tightened feeling in Viridis' chest and turning it into something more similar to annoyance.