When Olin the dwarf slowly and unsteadily exited his tent, the sun had risen and noon was approaching. The young dwarf was an amusing sight; his beard was tousled and entwined the wrong way, his entire face covered with loose strands of dark brown hair. For that was how Olin always looked upon waking, his only thought being to reach the campfire without tripping and falling over. The dwarf had experienced the embarressment of doing so many times before, all slightly different versions of the same mishap.
Finally reaching a campfire, Olin snatched a nearby mug and filled it with steaming hot tea. Taking a deep drink, the dwarf ignored the scorching pain from the heat and allowed the marvelous property of the drink to fill him with new life. Looking down at the empty mug, he refilled it and drank again, this time emptying the cup in a single slurping gulp. Ah, tea; delicious and soothing. Now I can focus on the task at hand.
Returning to his tent, now moving quickly, Olin dressed properly and re-braided his beard. Next, he checked his weaponry and equipment. The dwarf was unsure of when he assistance would be needed, but he wanted to be ready either way. Now fully awake, with his personal chores out of the way, Olin decided to take a stroll over to lake Evendim.
Soon arriving at the bank of the wide body of water, Olin sat on a nearby log, watching a fish glide through the clear waters. Suddenly, a larger specimen appeared from a cove in the lake side, gobbling up its helpless prey. Olin studied the matter thoughtfully, bringing it into context with the matters at hand. The dwarf had listened intently to the various tales of the Hillmen; and to him it seemed as if they had the potential of becoming a formidible enemy. He turned again to look at the victorious predator, which darted back into its cave.
A trespasser will certainly get eaten by a larger foe. Hopefully, we can hold our own in these parts.
[ September 06, 2003: Message edited by: Himaran ]
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