[piosenniel]

Saraphim’s post

Early in the morning, Narin awoke to the sound of a knock on the door of his home. Narin pulled himself out of bed, grumbling at his intruder, despite the fact that it was nearly time for him to wake anyway. He grumbled his way over to the door and pulled it open. In front of him stood a young Dwarf, with barely an inch of a beard.

“Yes? What is it?” Narin said with a tangible air of annoyance.

“Well, Sir,” stuttered the youth, “I was asked by the Lord Balin, sir, to deliver this message to you, sir.“ He held out a letter, which Narin took.

“Thank you, young one. But for the love of stone and mortar, next time, deliver your messages later in the morning.” Narin said, examining the envelope.

The boy bowed nervously and ran off. Narin shook his head after him and closed the door. Back in his home, He set the letter, unopened, on his table, then proceeded to wash and dress for the day. He then sat down, and over a cup of tea, read the letter.


Dear Narin,
I, Balin invite you to partake in an expedition of honor, glory, and riches. I only ask you to visit me with a band of other Dwarves near King Dain's hall. There is some travel involved, and quite a bit of fighting, and... possibly injuries on one level or another... but the reward fully compensates the trials you face. And then some! If you would please visit me at mid-day, I would be much obliged.
Cordially yours, Balin son of Fundin.

Hmmm, Thought Narin. Perhaps it is time to take a short leave from this Mountain.

The thought of riches and rewards further stimulated Narin’s thought, and before he had finished his tea, he had decided to accompany Balin on whatever hair-brained plot he might have.

Mid-day, however, was tantalizingly far away. So, to occupy his time, Narin set off to his forge, which lay deeper into the mountain. Few others were out and about, none of which Narin knew, or cared to know. He reached his forge and began to clean the place, canceling all the orders that had been made and generally preparing for a long trip.

Lastly, Narin took his axes from the wall. One was his, and one had been his brother’s.

He hooked his onto his belt, but looked at the runes of the other, which spelled out his brother’s name.

“Whatever mischief Balin gets me into, You’ll be in it with me, Ranir.” He said, hooking it onto his belt as well.