Dwarves for Marta.
It was a meticulous affair—naturally, for they were Dwarves. All filed orderly over the bridge, through the last halls, becoming a patient throng above Kheled-zâram. And as rank upon rank joined their fellows, they turned their faces West, and waited.
Finally, with the last of his guard and the much diminished company of those valiant wrights who had sealed their foe within, Thráin appeared at the gates. Thereupon, Dúrin's Heir spoke: "Weep not! The ends of the earth are our destiny, but Khazad-dûm our heart. We leave the way open for return."
Unbowed, they began the long march East.