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[bilbo_baggins]

Almost no time passed between when he was accosted by this noble khazad, than when he hapened to be joined also by this fair Eldar. Surely the Vala were taking a hand in arranging this, he thought to himself before answering.

"Certainly, Khazad, you may share this fire with me, and you may also have your portion of meat when it is done, though I have no seasoning or spice for it. It will have to be only slightly scorched, I'm afraid. And to you, person of the Eldar, company is appreciated, although this khazad will almost certainly have something to say to that. Please sit both of you, and talk with me; but if either of you try any arguing, I shall not open my camp to nor share of my hunt, nor shall I stay with you in this journey we obviously were all called to partake in. Is that clear?"

It seemed reasonbly clear to the both of them, so Aras gave in and let them join him in his repast.

"Now that we have eaten, I propose we tell each other why we came here; as it is obvious we did not do so by chance..."

[Will Witfoot]

Gortek studied his new-found company with his one good eye. The man had the look of one of the ancient people of Númenor, and the other one was a tall, blonde elf. Gortek was'nt bothered with the ancient and inbred hatred for the Firstborns which nearly every dwarf shared. His early separation from society had left him without proper foundations for such national animosities, and during his travels he had had both good and bad experiences so he knew not to judge rashly.

He gave them both a small, polite bow, and smilled showing yellowed teeth.
"Nah, I've no qualms if the elf joins us. Allways a pleasure meeting new people, as I allways says. Me I'm called Gortek the 'Mad-Eye'." He gave a maniacal cackle at this, perhaps causing some disscomfort in his companions.
Gratefully he dug in to the meat which the man offered him and the elf. Deciding that it would be impolite to not to return the favour, he produced some black bread and ,more importantly, a small flask of ale from his bag. He took a hefty pull from the bottle of beverage, and offered it to the man.

After the meal, Gortek tamped some 'Green Hill' into his pipe and lit it with a kinder taken from the fire. He had just got it burning properly when the man suggested they tell eachother of their exploits.

"I had a small venture in Umbar, in the City of Corsairs. Got a few friend's there who says they needed some help, so I went. After that I crossed the Brown Lands and followed this 'ere river" he indicated Celduin with a wave of his hand "to the junction. I thought I'd spend a couple o' days 'ere, fishing, hunting, taking it easy."

[Elentarimir]

Raendin smiled. "I have no problems sharing a campsite with a dwarf. Company is company." Raendin sat down on the grass, and listened politely as the ranger told him not to argue. Nodding his agreement, Raendin studied the dwarf. He was unlike any he'd ever seen before. After hearing Gortek's tale, Raendin spoke up:

"I was in Ithilien not long ago, but this is my favorite time to be here." He indicated the rivers flowing around them. "I journeyed long to come here. After that, I simply saw the smoke from this campfire rising above the line of trees." He shrugged. "Like I said before, I wanted company. My name's Raendin."

Raendin turned his eyes to the ranger that was slowly cooking a slab of meat on the fire. "What of you? Why are you here?" he asked.

[bilbo_baggins]

After both the Dwarf and the Elf had told their stories, the Elf asked Arasiniel, "What of you? Why are you here?"

"That is a hard question to answer Raendin. Ah, forgive me. My name is Arasiniel, but you may call me Aras. As to why I am here with the both of you, I do not rightly know. I felt a strange longing for this place, a place I had never been before. My thoughts guided me here, beyond the Misty Mountains and the Forest, south of the Lonely Mountain, and then I followed the Celduin - or, the River Running - to here. I do not know why I was brought here, but I fortell strange matters afoot and certain for some, though I do not know who. That is all I can tell."

The others sat for awhile, taking this in. He had some things to think over too, such as the Dwarf's adventure in Umbar, and the Elf's travels from Ithilien. He had interesting companions.

After they had mused on the new information brought to light for all of them, it began to grow dark. "I propose we hold exploring and any further disscussions til the dawn light," said Aras, "as we all do not know why we are."

The others agreed, and while some slept that night, others did not.

[Arestevana]

Maulká stayed close to the wall as if keeping to the shadows, though no shadow could be darker than the pitch black of the sloping corridor. There was only one topic of conversation throughout the colony. Everyone was speaking of the catch, and wild rumors began to spread. Sighing in exasperation, Maulká reflected that the fact of the catch itself was likely the only rumor with an ounce of truth.

A soft noise sounded from further up the hallway, and Maulká drew her knife. A man appeared through a doorway several yards from her position. He was a messenger, she saw, recently come from the jungle. She grimaced, recognizing the man. He was easily intimidated, a weakness she despised. Sheathing her knife, Maulká hissed at the messenger. He twisted around, startled.

“Where is the catch kept?” Maulká demanded. The messenger winced, but tried to answer with a semblance of calm.
“In the cell at the end of the left hall. Bestialán will be there by now, and Kínadhen is on guard,” he muttered. Maulká nodded and hastened up the corridor, dismissing the messenger from mind. She reflected momentarily on the two names. Kínadhen… foolish, but strong. She tolerated his existence, but spared the man no thought. Bestialán was another matter, one of the few people she respected and treated in a civil manner. The respect was born of fear, though Maulká was loath to admit it. She knew Bestialán could best her without trouble in a fight in the jungle. Cursed sun-eyes…

Reaching the cell the messenger had directed her to, Maulká found Kínadhen standing at the entrance. Bestialán was not there, she noted irritably. It made no difference, but she disliked being mislead.

“Kínadhen! What is to be done with it?” she called. The guard shrugged. Maulká sighed, thinking, He probably has orders to let no one near. It’s not worth killing over, I must be patient. She moved to a small alcove across the hallway and sat down, watching the cell door, wondering who else would come to see the catch.

[Carlas]

“Aye, and that we won’t do standing about here in idle talk.” The dwarf next to Durin answered quietly, almost as if speaking to himself. Durin nodded his agreement as he looked about the room at the gathering of dwarves, who for the most part stood silently immersed in their own thoughts. Durin thought it strange that the group would be so quiet when they were about to take out on such an amazing journey. It was not often that one would get the chance to visit the great land of Ruhn, which had been little more than a legend for many ages.

Durin thought back to his last journey a few years back, to help save their homeland. The entire trip they had all been tormented by the thought that they would not make it on time, and they would return to a ruined city. Tormented by the thought that they would not be able to help the land and people they loved.

This time though, it was different. This was no great race to save their family, no immense battle they had to win, it was a journey to a strange new land filled with riches beyond anyone’s greatest dreams. Durin couldn’t imagine a greater honor than to be one of the few who would be able to prove that the great legend of Ruhn was no legend, but a real place filled with much wealth and beauty.

After the silence had gone on for some time, Durin finally decided that enough was enough. “Than what are we waiting for? If you say the route is simple and safe, then there is not much else worth discussing, we are all here and ready. Let us take our leave and begin the journey south before our beards grow so long we must tie them around our waists!” He said impatiently as he looked up at Balin.

[Saraphim]

The darkness of the lower corridors hid Nephil's wide, mischevious grin. He had caught up with his cousin, who knew everything that had happened. How Corith had known, however, remained a mystery. Nephil had long since stopped attending to the minor gossip his kinsman flaunted, but now he was grateful to the socially-bred, sensitive ears Corith had.

Nephil turned a corner and was faced with a few of his peple outdide a heavily barricaded door. One, upon closer inspection, was a woman, sitting sourly in an alcove. Nephil did not recognize her. The other, a man, he did know, by association only, stood at the door, obviously refusing admittance to anyone.

Hence the sour woman. Nephil nodded politely at her. She stared at him as if he was a particularly putrid piece of feces that had just insulted her and everyone she knew. Nephil turned to Kinadhen.

"Alright, so I'm assuming the rumors are true. Meat doesn't often get a gaurd. It's a catch." He said, "And I don't suppose I can see it, correct?"

Kinadhen was a man of few words. He shook his head.

Nephil sighed, but nodded his head. "As I suspected."

Moving over to lean against the wall next to the sour woman's alcove, Nephil pulled put a peice of dried meat.

I'd better get comfortable,He thought, this could take a while.