[Theoric Windcaller]

Theoric seemed surprise. The inn was not full of only Hobbits, but Elves were seen among the crowd as well.

This boded well for the tired Dwarf, more adventurous kind to talk to. After having his seat taken by the Hobbit, he trudged over to the bar and sat down, his boots trailing in mud from the fields of the Shire. The bar was just his size, not to large like the other inns he had stopped by in his journey here, but, the Hobbits were small folk, and the Dwarf didn’t regret his decision to come here.

His brown curly beard waved as his hazel eyes darted from corner to corner, investigating the room.

"What will you have tonight, Dwarf?"

A small, feminine came from behind the bar. A maiden she was. From Rohan, Theoric thought, as he stared deep into her eyes.

He had spent a good deal of his time on his journeys in Rohan with his brother and companion, and because of that, he was able to decipher where she was from. “Ah, thank M’lady. I’ll have a pint of mead, if its not too much trouble,” replied the Dwarf, sinking in his seat at the bartender’s beauty.

“Aye, you’ll have it in a minute," scuttling off to accomodate the Dwarf.

Theoric chuckled. “From Rohan,” he laughed, “I knew it!” Theoric waited for a moment and soon, a pint of mead was put before him. The bartender darted off before he could ask her for her name, much less say, “Thank you.”

Theoric grabbed the mug’s handle and brought the rim to his dried lips. As soon as the mead touched his lips, flowed down his throat and into his stomach, he was relaxed. He sighed as his weariness fluttered away like a group of crows in a forest.

As he brought his mug down, he felt a small tap on his shoulder. He turned to see a familiar face, un-hooded and a smile upon his face. “Brother!” he shouted as he recognized his hazel eyes. He jumped from his seat and wrapped his arms around his brother.

“Hail, Theoric. It has been long, I almost forget what ye looked like!” chuckled the Dwarf brother, returning the hug to Theoric.

Theoric looked surprise. It had been five years since they last saw each other. It was a mid-summer’s eve, the sun slowly descended behind the mountains and the brigade of Dwarf adventurers wanted to press on further towards the Misty Mountains.

It was then that a great storm broke the brigade apart later that night, and the brothers never saw each other until this night. The brothers were the only survivors out of the brigade, and the brigade was made up mostly and the Dwarf brothers’ companions. A tragedy it was.

Theoric slowly reflected back on that night in the Misty Mountains where the storm tore the two brothers apart. “I thought you were dead with the rest of our brigade,” said Theoric. “Nay, I knew you were alive. Our family has always been strong, I knew our companions died, but for some reason I knew you were alive,” replied the Dwarf brother.

“How did you find me, how did the rest of the brigade die, Tallon?” asked Theoric.

Tallon Windcaller, that was the brother’s name. He was a good older brother, much like Theoric, but headstrong. Yes, he was stubborn, but still very friendly, like Theoric.

“Well, the rest of the brigade didn’t die. I was wrong. There was one survivor,” replied Tallon, anxious to show Theoric his surprise. Tallon stepped aside to reveal another Dwarf standing behind him. “Hail, friend of old!” shouted Baylin.

Baylin was a companion of the Windcaller brothers for the longest time. He was a smart one; he always knew what road to take and how to win the fight. The Windcaller brothers both were surprised that he was not a lord in the Dwarven army.

“Baylin! I thought you had died!” Theoric darted and hugged the old Dwarf. Baylin, with his scraggly, long white beard and his dark walnut-brown eyes accepted Theoric’s hug with a smile. “I assure you, I have not. For I stand before you here. I knew you would be here; the Shire is one of the few places we haven’t explored. It was just a matter of when you would be here. My estimations were correct, as you can plainly see,” chuckled the intelligent Dwarf.

Tallon walked to the bar and ordered two pints of ale. Tallon’s brother and companion joined him. Theoric told the two of his adventure coming here, and they told him of their adventures since the night five years ago when they lost each other.

Theoric was overjoyed at this newfound mercy. He knew that his adventures would be better now, better than ever.

“A merry place this is,” said Tallon, slowly studying the crowd of Elves, Men and Hobbits.

Theoric chuckled and replied, “Aye, this mead is wonderful.”

There was short silence soon after that between the three Dwarves. Theoric knew there was something on the other Dwarves’ minds, and he wanted to find out.

“Tallon, what’s going on?” asked Theoric, eagerly awaiting an answer.

He knew not what to expect, but he knew that whether the news was ill or good, he wanted to know what it is. Ever since he was a young Dwarf-lad, he hated being kept out of secrets, and to this day, he would go to desperate measures to find out what was being held from him.

“Theoric, look at this.” Baylin took a folded piece of parchment from his cloak’s pocket and slid it around the wooden bar to Theoric. He studied the inanimate object for quite sometime before unfolding it. He looked at the two Dwarves. Tallon motioned him to look at it. Tallon took another sip of his ale.

Theoric looked nervous, maybe he didn’t want to find this secret out after all.

Theoric slowly unfolded the paper. He seemed relieved when he recognized what it was. “A map? Are you thinking about another adventure?” “Nay, not another adventure. An Elven friend gave this to us to give to you. It might be someone you knew from one of your adventures,” replied Baylin.

Theoric didn’t recognize the map at all; it was a land he had never seen before. “Look, we have to take leave. We will take the map if you don’t want it—.” “Nay, I’ll keep it,” said Theoric. “I’ve never heard of any of these places, so this map is nothing to me,” the Dwarf added.

He walked to the fireplace and tossed it in the fire. The embers flew up into the air. “Enough of that. Foolish to waist time with things I don’t understand,” said the Dwarf.

Baylin thought differently, but then he remembered one of the many sayings he went by: “A person’s choice is their choice to make.” It was Theoric’s choice to burn this mystery map.

“Alright, dear friend, your brother and I have business to attend to in Rohan, we will see ye another day,” smiled Baylin. “Aye, we must take leave. Goodbye, dear brother. I have a feeling we will see each other again,” he said with an accent.

“Goodbye,” Theoric said as he sipped his mead and watched them disappear into the darkness of the night.

[ June 07, 2003: Message edited by: Theoric Windcaller ]