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Old 12-01-2008, 08:25 PM   #22
Himaran
Ash of Orodruin
 
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Join Date: Jan 2003
Location: Thangorodrim
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"Ghaah!"

Dalin winced in pain, letting his hammer clatter to the stone floor. Grimacing, the dwarf tugged off his thick leather gloves and tossed them aside before examining his sore thumb. The damage appeared minor, though shades of deep purple blue and significant swelling had already begun to set in. He shook it furiously, sucked on it briefly, then shook it some more, silently cursing his misfortune. It had been simply ages since his last mishap in the forge; and while crafting something as simple as a pickaxe for one of the miners! Dalin couldn't decide if he was more perturbed by his lack of concentration or the pain itself.

The pain, however, soon faded, leaving the dwarf to brood on his error alone. It seemed as if he had been distracted all day; not even in the forge, a sanctuary of sorts to Dalin, was he left unaffected. Picking up the culprit hammer, he gripped the handle tightly, raised it up, let it hang for a fleeting second, and brought it crashing down against the searing red metal. Again, and again, he swung his craftman's tool in a gleaming arc. He oft likened the path of the hammer to that of his own life; it had a purpose, a mission, a point of conception and a destination. Again, and again, and -- a dull splintering noise jerked Dalin back to reality, a reality in which he had not only missed his target again but succeeded in shattering the base of his hammer in two.

This time, Dalin broke into a loud and profane rant.

Hurling the remnants of his hammer against the forge wall, the dwarf let out a bellow of frustration and collapsed to ground in defeat. What was wrong with him? All day he had struggled to concentrate on his work, let alone socialize with his brethren. What bothered the skilled craftsman even more was the gradual realization that he knew exactly what was bothering him: the dwarf was homesick. Moria seemed darker and gloomier than in past days; a strange sense of staleness had infected its massive halls and chambers. Far too often for his liking, Dalin had begun to catch himself daydreaming of the sunny slopes of Erebor. Rumors of growing orc numbers in and around the region did little to ease his discomfort. Perhaps it was time for a change.

Standing slowly, Dalin glanced around the room to make sure no one was there to witness his outburst. Thankfully, the forge was otherwise deserted. Strange that he was the only one...

... the Celebration!

Last edited by Himaran; 12-02-2008 at 09:03 AM.
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