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Elleraden soon spotted a friend. "Aravir, I didn't know you were here."
"Hail, Elleraden. Glad to see you," Aravir said as they clasped hands.
"I thought you were heading up north," Elleraden said.
"I was in sight of the Ered Mithrin, but I was found by an Elven messanger from Elrond. And...here I am," Aravir replied. "I'll just have to put my journey on hold. The Heir of Isildur calls."
"I'm sorry to stop you from looking for your father. I know you were looking forward to that journey," Elleraden said.
"No matter. It'll just wait," Aravir said with a smile. "Oh, who's the leader of this company?"
"Islist," Elleraden replied. He turned and pointed. "He's off in that direction. It would probably be good to report to him."
"You read my mind, friend. After that, you know where to find me...by the malt beer, dwarf malt beer if my nose serves me rightly."
"Ha, you were always one to follow your nose, Aravir," laughed Elleraden. The two headed off as Aravir went to find Islist.
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Later, he talked with Islist over a cup of fiery dwarven spirits; a special favorite (and an occasional addiction) of his.
Aravir then returned holding up his empty glass. "Might a friend be able to fill my empty pint?"
Elleraden chuckled and obliged. "I think that we'd all better finish packing. After we finish our drinks."
It was then Aravir's turn to chuckle. "Of course."
[ May 28, 2003: Message edited by: Himaran ]