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Esgallhugwen · 05-20-2004, 10:00 PM

EDIT: I PLACED THIS WITH POST # 63 -- PIO

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Nerin Cloudfoot

Nerin was rather surprised he had not yet earned the nickname The mute dwarf or Master Tongueless . After all, his lack of conversation wasn't exactly helping him become aquinted with his fellow companions.

On the other hand he did share a few brief quiet conversations with Haenir, who seemed to take a liking to young Nerin. They shared many things in common despite their age difference.

That didn't help when the orcs came, Nerin's lack of experience in battle made him nervous and anxious. But despite his fear he tried to steady himself and cleave his way through to the others.

His heart nearly went up into his throat when he was cornered up against a large tree, he tried to cry out but he bit his tongue instead. Luckily for Nerin's sake, Bali came and disposed of the vile creatures that would have nearly turned him into a Dwarven pin cushion.

They frantically ran to catch up with the others cleaving off orc heads and limbs as they went. The distance to the camp seemed farther away now that they had orcs to deal with, but the two Dwarves made it safely enough, eventually clasping their hands to their knees to steady themselves as they huffed and panted trying to regain their lost breath.

Dwalin and Durin were still back there and Nerin could not help but feel a pang of guilt that he could not do more to help them. He sighed and straightened his back, it was then that Haenir spoke about going back now that they knew what they were up against.

Bali gave him a stern look and directed him over to a corner of their camp, he proceeded to tell something that Nerin could not overhear. It was decided that they would wait, Durin would lead them out to join the main group.

For three very tense hours, they waited fearing the worst but hoping for the best. Their hope prevailed and all exclaimed to see that Dwalin and Durin were unharmed, except for the rather nasty goose egg on Dwalin's head.
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After weeks of travelling; the Erebor company found themselves sitting around a fire with an Elf, a man and another Dwarf. Apparently all friendly so Nerin allowed himself the leisure to let down his gaurd, if only slightly.

The young Dwarf sat close to Haenir whom he had come to trust and look to for advice on the long road to Rhûn. Nerin couldn't help but look across the fire at the Elf, he had never met one of the Fair Folk before let alone sit down with one, so it was no surprise the situation was a more than a little odd.

Nerin cleared his throat speaking to all for the first time, "forgive my rudeness, but the three of you seem strange companions, what brings you out here?".

05-20-2004, 10:00 PM	#155
Esgallhugwen Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Jun 2003 Location: Where the Moon cries against the snow Posts: 526	Heres my post hope it does the trick! Put it where its needed. EDIT: I PLACED THIS WITH POST # 63 -- PIO ************************************************ *********** Nerin Cloudfoot** Nerin was rather surprised he had not yet earned the nickname The mute dwarf or Master Tongueless . After all, his lack of conversation wasn't exactly helping him become aquinted with his fellow companions. On the other hand he did share a few brief quiet conversations with Haenir, who seemed to take a liking to young Nerin. They shared many things in common despite their age difference. That didn't help when the orcs came, Nerin's lack of experience in battle made him nervous and anxious. But despite his fear he tried to steady himself and cleave his way through to the others. His heart nearly went up into his throat when he was cornered up against a large tree, he tried to cry out but he bit his tongue instead. Luckily for Nerin's sake, Bali came and disposed of the vile creatures that would have nearly turned him into a Dwarven pin cushion. They frantically ran to catch up with the others cleaving off orc heads and limbs as they went. The distance to the camp seemed farther away now that they had orcs to deal with, but the two Dwarves made it safely enough, eventually clasping their hands to their knees to steady themselves as they huffed and panted trying to regain their lost breath. Dwalin and Durin were still back there and Nerin could not help but feel a pang of guilt that he could not do more to help them. He sighed and straightened his back, it was then that Haenir spoke about going back now that they knew what they were up against. Bali gave him a stern look and directed him over to a corner of their camp, he proceeded to tell something that Nerin could not overhear. It was decided that they would wait, Durin would lead them out to join the main group. For three very tense hours, they waited fearing the worst but hoping for the best. Their hope prevailed and all exclaimed to see that Dwalin and Durin were unharmed, except for the rather nasty goose egg on Dwalin's head. __________________________________________________ ______________ After weeks of travelling; the Erebor company found themselves sitting around a fire with an Elf, a man and another Dwarf. Apparently all friendly so Nerin allowed himself the leisure to let down his gaurd, if only slightly. The young Dwarf sat close to Haenir whom he had come to trust and look to for advice on the long road to Rhûn. Nerin couldn't help but look across the fire at the Elf, he had never met one of the Fair Folk before let alone sit down with one, so it was no surprise the situation was a more than a little odd. Nerin cleared his throat speaking to all for the first time, "forgive my rudeness, but the three of you seem strange companions, what brings you out here?". Last edited by piosenniel; 05-21-2004 at 01:51 AM.