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piosenniel · 01-15-2004, 04:06 PM

Will Witfoot's post

Alrik was in his smithy, fixing a couple of broken links from his chainmail shirt. The armour had been partially penetrated by a sword blow of a goblin during the latest scrap with them near the shores of Esgaroth. Those creatures sure had seemed a lot tougher when he had been a lad.

He paused an lifted the shirt to eye-level. Satisfied with his own work he took off the leather appron he had worn to protect himself from the heat, hung his hammer beside the door and made for the hall where ale was served. It would taste fine after the days work he had done.

He had barely time to sip from his tankard when a messenger in the livery of King Dain strode over to him with a purposeful step. Bowing in the formal way of greeting, he handed him a letter from Lord Balin. So it read:

Honoured Alrik Stonebeard,

As the strength of our people has in the recent years grown many-fold from its once depleted might, I now wish to embark (with any willing company) on a journey which, if successful, will truly raise our people to our former glory. I ask you, as a loyal servant to King Dain, to aid me in the expedition with the purpose of freeing our once great hold, Moria.

Yours trusting,
Balin, son of Fundin

Alrik almost spat out his ale. The name of Moria, a name which haunted the minds of the dwarfs, had a powerfull effect on him. Long had he dreamed of this day.
He glanced at the letter again. It was written in a strong and beautifull handwriting, and quite unlike the formal letters passed between the high clansmen was short and to the point. He did not have to think twice about his decision.

He told the messenger to tell Balin that he could trust in his help, and made his way back to his forge. He had to make a few preparations.

01-15-2004, 04:06 PM	#4
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Will Witfoot's post Alrik was in his smithy, fixing a couple of broken links from his chainmail shirt. The armour had been partially penetrated by a sword blow of a goblin during the latest scrap with them near the shores of Esgaroth. Those creatures sure had seemed a lot tougher when he had been a lad. He paused an lifted the shirt to eye-level. Satisfied with his own work he took off the leather appron he had worn to protect himself from the heat, hung his hammer beside the door and made for the hall where ale was served. It would taste fine after the days work he had done. He had barely time to sip from his tankard when a messenger in the livery of King Dain strode over to him with a purposeful step. Bowing in the formal way of greeting, he handed him a letter from Lord Balin. So it read: Honoured Alrik Stonebeard, As the strength of our people has in the recent years grown many-fold from its once depleted might, I now wish to embark (with any willing company) on a journey which, if successful, will truly raise our people to our former glory. I ask you, as a loyal servant to King Dain, to aid me in the expedition with the purpose of freeing our once great hold, Moria. Yours trusting, Balin, son of Fundin Alrik almost spat out his ale. The name of Moria, a name which haunted the minds of the dwarfs, had a powerfull effect on him. Long had he dreamed of this day. He glanced at the letter again. It was written in a strong and beautifull handwriting, and quite unlike the formal letters passed between the high clansmen was short and to the point. He did not have to think twice about his decision. He told the messenger to tell Balin that he could trust in his help, and made his way back to his forge. He had to make a few preparations. __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.