[Formendacil]

“Every man that can ride a horse! At once! Lord Eodwine has need of riders!”

Náin looked up from his stonecarving. The Dwarf had been busy since before most of the Hall had risen, reinvigorated by his day of rest, and deep into further projects for the ornamentation of the Mead Hall. A stone lintel over one of the new fireplaces would be well-adorned with motifs of the Mark...

Looking up, Náin saw Thornden rushing to join the exodus of Men set on rescuing their apparently beleaguered lord.

"Are you not coming, Náin?" asked Thornden, slowing down before he left the room altogether, upon seeing that the Dwarf made no move to depart.

"I am a Dwarf, am I not?" said Náin, carefully setting aside his chisel, though making no other move to depart. "I am neither a Man nor a rider, and I shall not become either in the time needed to assist Lord Eodwine."

"Then ride with another," said Thornden. "Lord Eodwine's position is not far, and you could be carried so far with no trouble. You could fight from the ground once we arrived."

Náin laid his mallet aside, and glanced for one long moment at his barely-started project. He knew which task he would much prefer.

"I shall be in the stables momentarily," he said. "I will grab my battle-axe, helm, and mail."