[b]"No!" [/b]

Leth, Murins Grandson, had held himself in the background, yet now he stepped forward. His hair was still in a deep red, and his eyes were young and filled with fire. Dwarfs lived far longer then men, almost as long as elves, and in the eyes of his uncles Leth might be barley considered an adult at all. Yet little did he cared for their opinion in that matter. He had been called out warden by his rangers, and Murin had accepted him in this Rank. 

[b]"I have been in this halls many times before! For my father lies not far from here! He died the same way, my beloved Grandfather Murin did! Killed by the wicked Goblins!"[/b]

He slowly stepped towards the grave, resting his hand on it, before turning back around, a flash of fury in his eyes, as he focused on Dourhorn. Taking another breath, he could feel how is palms shivered, as he knew that there was no going back. This was a final decision, and he had to live with the consequences that would follow. He had considered to simply remain a dutiful warden, and keep himself out of the conflict that seemed inevitable. But inside him was a desire for more, then just to content with what he had. He owned it to himself, and to this wife to strive for more! And he owned it to the valley, to save it from the clutches of an incapable cripple.  

[b]"My Grandmother called us a pack, so be it! Dourhorn, i call you the runt of it! The Clan of Longstrider will never bow to your will, Cripple!" [/b] 

Leth step were slow, yet he moved towards his oldest uncle, his eyes narrowed. [b]"For when my father died i descended into the darkness, swearing not to return until i had wiped out the beasts that had killed my father! And so i did..."[/b] He stepped closer and his face was only a few inches away of Dourhorn. Leth would not blink, nor flinch, as the next words were only whispered. His eyes had a sudden coldness, just as cold as the winter of the valley. [i]"So where is your armor, where is your shield and where is your axe? Or do you want to read goblins to death?"[/i]

Leth eyes moved towards Hornfel, and a displeased look moved into them. He hadnt expect him to declare himself so soon, but he would need to react to his declaration. [b]"I respect you, uncle! And i hold your words in high regard! But you are making a mistake! The Runt is not fit to lead! That you support him speaks for your honor, and your regard to our traditions of inheritance, yet..."[/b] Leth slowly stepped away from Dourhorn, yet kept him faced. [b]"...i will rather shave my beard, bury my axe and live with humans, then to have Dourhorn as our leader! For he will never achieve justice for my grandfather!"[/b]

With that said, he turned around, facing his uncle Agrim. From all the dwarfs in this room, he had the highest hopes for his support. Knowing him to be a warrior like himself, he also counted on his bound to his father. If there was one dwarf in his room, that Leth could see ruling the Valley, other then him, then it was his uncle.  [b]"The Clan of Longstrider, Warden of the Valley, declares its support for the second born of Murin, or his rightful heir! Uncle, who was the first to see the light of this world! You, or my father?"[/b]