[Ithaeliel]

As the cool evening began to settle onto the town, Angalos walked on, hauling his axe in one hand and his travelling gear in the other. Rounding a corner, he saw an old sign swinging in the light of two torches. It read, "The Rusty Hilt," and there was a motif of an old sword above the words. He smiled satisfactorily, striding to the door, and as he entered the darkened tavern, he saw three familiar faces there: Jadae, Anuion, and Arethin. There were few others besides him, but there was a dwarf sitting at a table who eyed Jadae and Arethin curiously. He seemed interested in what they were saying, and when the word 'book' was heard, he gave a gasp and coughed a bit. Angalos was sure he knew about it.

Angalos lingered back as he watched Jack, the one most skeptical of the existance of the Wanaparma, arrive downstairs dressed to travel. "I have got all I need now and am ready for the off," he said, startling Jadae. The trader was more than mildly surprised; he would never have thought that Jack would agree to make the journey, especially on his own account and will. Well, when the lost annals of a race are at hand, it can make a man unpredictable, thought Angalos. As he stepped out from the shadow of the doorframe and the four realized his presence, Jadae gave a small smile. "Greetings, Angalos Stormaxe."

Setting his things down on the table, Angalos removed his hood and bowed. "I'm glad I was able to make it in time. I managed to stop by my home on the way, so I am already prepared to leave, save a few provisions; for I was planning to make a trip to the market this very evening due to the barrenness of my larders," he said with a laugh.

"I have plenty of lembas for all of us to share, if provisions are short," said Anuion. "We will be able to make do with what we have."

"I am glad you decided to come," said Jadae with a smile.

"May my axe (and possibly wits) serve you well, Miss Jadae Starfire."

Arethin spoke up hesitantly. "Well, if there are no others, I suppose we ought to be leaving soon."

"Oh, no you don't!" cried a gruff voice from the back of the room. Angalos spun around to see the dwarf near the hearth stand up suddenly and stride toward the group. "I've heard all about this book you're talking of; I must say I hold an interest in finding it. This is quite a bold expedition you lot are embarking upon."

Anuion glanced coldly at the dwarf. He was one of the Silvan elves who had little love for dwarf-kind, especially those of Erebor (as it appeared this one was). "And what is your name, Master Dwarf?" he asked.

[ February 06, 2003: Message edited by: Ithaeliel ]