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Arasiniel
Upon awakening one morning, Arasiniel and the others noticed rather quickly that their supplies and gear were gone, vanished. They were stuck rather frighteningly in the entrails of a dilemna.
Hiking onward, they fought trough feelings of despair. Wave after wave of doubt crept in. They hadn't reached the sea yet, they didn't know if this was really the jungle of Rhûn they had been searching for, and the local fauna didn't help much either.
Stepping on a snake, Aras barely saved himself from getting a bite on his leg. Cursing inwardly for letting himself be so careless, he glanced up at the others. They weren't faring that well either. It seemed obvious that no one particularly cared for the jungle.
Struggling on, they all stumbled for several miles. Dissension was beginning to grow rampant. Mutiny seemed imminent. Several dwarves, and even Aras, had some choice words for their seeming misadventure.
"It doesn't seem to be quite the picnic, nut-gathering outing you had planned, eh, Bali? Nothing ever turns out quite like we want," said Aras slowly, trying to stem the frustration and annoyance that was flooding his mind by bringing up the subject.
"I didn't think it would be easy. No one did," was Bali's curt, slightly spiteful reply. Aras didn't mind, he was expecting some reply like it, and looked forward to many more anger-filled comments on everyone's part.
Turning to Erulon, he asked, "So, we have traveled far now. I never got to ask you though, where do you come from? Arnor? Gondor, maybe?"
Glancing around while Erulon gathered some breath to use for words instead of the steady plodding that continued even in their dreams. He noted several angry faces, and many of the company were practically outright enraged and furious. He hoped that they would not act without reason or sense until the discovery of the sea perhaps, or some treasure. Yes, perhaps they could check their sweeping emotions 'til then.
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