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piosenniel · 10-14-2005, 09:16 PM

It was one of the Ironfoots who was chosen to lead the expedition – thirty Dwarven warriors to escort the one hundred Elves Celeborn had brought with him. Rori Ironfoot, it was, . . . two years older than Riv and one of the Dwarves who had originally made contact with Lord Elrond’s troops. ‘Not a half-bad fellow,’ he’d told Riv as they’d headed out of the West gate with the Elven troop. ‘Not like Master Nose-in-the-air back there,’ Rori had said, nodding his head back toward where Celeborn led his troops.

There had been little conversation between the Dwarves and the Elven warriors; save for the firm statements Rori had made about who was leading this mission. ‘We know where Lord Elrond and his men be,’ Rori had stated plainly. ‘And either you let us take you to him in our own way or you wander about in these Orc infested hills while they pick you off one by one.’

As it was, it had taken four long days to reach the Lindon camp, with only one small encounter with three unfortunate Orcs who’d been left as look-outs at the southern reaches of Sauron’s campaign. All the Dwarves and Elves had come through unscathed and now intermingled with the Lindon troops. Or rather, the Lorinand were mingling; The Dwarves stood to one side, resting on their axes.

Rori’s eyes glittered at the sight of so many girded for war. He called his men to him, saying that he’d spoke with Lord Elrond, and they would be more than welcome to join in the fight with the Elves against Sauron’s troops. There were a number of Dwarves, the younger ones especially who were eager to do so. Their blood and spirits had been set afire with thoughts of battle and the killing of Orcs.

Riv motioned for Skald and Bror to gather near him, a little ways off. ‘Brothers,’ he began, ‘I’m going back with the others. I’ve no taste for joining in the Elven ranks.’ He looked at Bror and Skald, unable to read what each had decided. ‘Will you greet our Father on your return with me?’ he asked. ‘Or shall I tell him you’ve lent your axes to the aid of Lord Elrond?’

10-14-2005, 09:16 PM	#5
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	It was one of the Ironfoots who was chosen to lead the expedition – thirty Dwarven warriors to escort the one hundred Elves Celeborn had brought with him. Rori Ironfoot, it was, . . . two years older than Riv and one of the Dwarves who had originally made contact with Lord Elrond’s troops. ‘Not a half-bad fellow,’ he’d told Riv as they’d headed out of the West gate with the Elven troop. ‘Not like Master Nose-in-the-air back there,’ Rori had said, nodding his head back toward where Celeborn led his troops. There had been little conversation between the Dwarves and the Elven warriors; save for the firm statements Rori had made about who was leading this mission. ‘We know where Lord Elrond and his men be,’ Rori had stated plainly. ‘And either you let us take you to him in our own way or you wander about in these Orc infested hills while they pick you off one by one.’ As it was, it had taken four long days to reach the Lindon camp, with only one small encounter with three unfortunate Orcs who’d been left as look-outs at the southern reaches of Sauron’s campaign. All the Dwarves and Elves had come through unscathed and now intermingled with the Lindon troops. Or rather, the Lorinand were mingling; The Dwarves stood to one side, resting on their axes. Rori’s eyes glittered at the sight of so many girded for war. He called his men to him, saying that he’d spoke with Lord Elrond, and they would be more than welcome to join in the fight with the Elves against Sauron’s troops. There were a number of Dwarves, the younger ones especially who were eager to do so. Their blood and spirits had been set afire with thoughts of battle and the killing of Orcs. Riv motioned for Skald and Bror to gather near him, a little ways off. ‘Brothers,’ he began, ‘I’m going back with the others. I’ve no taste for joining in the Elven ranks.’ He looked at Bror and Skald, unable to read what each had decided. ‘Will you greet our Father on your return with me?’ he asked. ‘Or shall I tell him you’ve lent your axes to the aid of Lord Elrond?’ Last edited by piosenniel; 10-15-2005 at 11:30 AM.