***** Erebor Time + Weather Service ******************************************
** Real time is: Thu Aug 05 15:17:16 1999, GMT -8 **
Elendor time is: Early Morning (about 8 AM ) on Monday, 25 January 3018. In the
Winter sky, Tonight the moon will be waning crescent.
****************************************** Erebor Time + Weather Service *****
Great Dale Archway
The cobbled road of colored stone beneath your feet is smooth and seamless. It
stretches under a great, wide archway hewn directly through one of the rock
arms of the Lonely Mountain. The archway has been sculpted to appear like the
roots of an enormous granite tree and is a testimony to the craftsmanship of
the Dwarves of Erebor. Towering high above the road but subtly hidden within
the gnarled granite roots are lookouts and vantage points manned by the guards
of Dale. Access to these lookouts are stairways cunningly carved into side of
the roots and are hidden from the road.
The view southwest through the archway shows the color and splendor that is the
city of Dale. Rock towers of different hues and textures extend up the side of
the mountain, the famous waterways of Dale dominate the central and southern
sections of the city. In amidst the waterways and fountains is the magnificent
palace of the King of the Bardings.
As the morning mist from the lake melts away in the winter sun, traffic starts
to flow through the Archway. Amongst the dwarves coming and going, Gumbart
approaches from Erebor, riding on a pony and leading three more. The ponies are
ladden with goods. As Gumbart approaches the Archway, he notices the
Emyn-Engrin camp and stops his steed. He turns from the road and approaches the
camp.
From the confines of the Emyn-Engrin camp, a lone dwarf can be seen making his
way from his wagon over to the newly started fire. With a yawn, he bends over
to poor himself a cup of coffee from a keattle which has been boiling over the
new flames. Seeing a dwarven figure in the distance, he steps from the flames
to get a closer look.
Gumbart recognizes the figure he last saw a fortnight ago in Emyn-Engrin, far
away in the East. He kicks his pony and approaches, hailing the lone dwarf,
"Brican, dear friend! How wonderfull to see you again!" Gumbart jumps from his
pony and waves his hat.
Smiling towards his old dwarven friend, Brican now abandons his coffee on the
ground, and with his entire face lighting up he asks, "How long has it been
now, a fortnight, I had not expected to see you here."
Gumbart dismisses the story with a wave of his hand, "Don't mind me, old
friend! Your party must have been in quite a hurry! When I left Emyn-Engrin I
heard on Market Square that Master Arwin was still unsure when he was to leave.
Then, a few days ago, your party overtook me. I happened upon your camp one
night, but it was late already and Master Arwin was so busy that cousin Datain
would not lead me to him. I spend the night talking to Datain and rose late
that day. Your party had already left. I guess I haven't heard you leaving
because I had hidden myself in a little cove a bit further away. Datain seemed
quite suspicious and I thought it prudent not to announce my presence." Gumbart
grins and says, "Don't mind an old paranoid traveller's habits, Brican my
friend."
Brican shakes his head towards Gumbart, "This Datain dismissed you out of hand,
I could understand if it was one of the outsiders, but not to trust your own
kind is unforgiveable, no matter where he comes from. I must of been asleep at
the time in the caravan, and this Datain in his naivety forgot to inform the
others of the camp of your coming. I suppose though, I cannot blame him for a
little caution, such strange doings in the camp, a human and all."
Gumbart laughs, "Ah, don't mind him, he seemed quite nervous, he said it was
the first time he left Emyn-Engrin. I am sure he meant no harm, or else he was
too impressed with Master Arwin's authority. Which reminds me, Brican, I
remember that on our trip to Buhr Mahrling you were an apprentice to Master
Nori -- what happened? Did you fight? I recall you weren't too happy." Gumbart
suddenly remembers his ponies. "Let me unmount the poor animals. I might as
well spend the late morning hours with you!" he says and grins, unmounting the
animals, wiping their sweat and giving them their fodder bags.
Looking about the open area, and across the field towards the dale-lands camp,
he turns back to Gumbart, "I do not trust these outdoors, with those humans
campped across the way there, I am sure they are there just to here to attempt
a evil plan, I think it will be safer inside my wagon, will you follow?" With
this he marches up a few steps of the wagon.
Dwarven Travel Camp (Emyn Engrin Group)
Around you is a small dwarven campsight. The campsight is smaller than normal
for Khazad. There is a campfire in the center, surrounded by a number of small
shelters. Though not as large as some dwarven camps, there are sentries on
duty.
Merchant Wagon
The inside of the wagon is surprisingly spacious. There are benches on
both sides near the rear door and a large desk, firmly planted to the floor
boards, near the front. Behind the desk is a iron bound chest with a large lock
keeping intruders out. Cots have been setup temporarily at various spots within
the wagon, eating up space in the once spacious wagon.
Gumbart follows Brican, taking another look at the mix of humans and dwarves
coming and going through the gates of Dale. He shakes his head and enters the
wagon. He closes the door behind him and takes a look at the wagon's interior.
"Very nice wagon you got yourself here, Brican," he says.
As the bright winter sunlight shines down on the city of Dale, a tall, thin man
stalks out through the gates. The expression on his face does not match the
weather, for he scowls deeply as he walks. He seems to be heading towards a
faded green wagon with the name 'Gwillim Avery' painted on the side, but
changes his mind partway there and turns instead towards the dwarven camp. He
marches up to the nearest wagon, from which the faint sound of voices issues,
and thumps heavily on the side.
Brican steps through the door and out of the wagon.
You step down out of the Merchant Wagon.
Gumbart says, "Uh, who is that, Brican? Our fellow dwarves are awake?" He grins
and gets up. As he opens the door and sees the human standing outside, he
freezes. "Oh," he says and calls back over his shoulder, "Look Brican, you have
a visitor." Mistrusting eyes stare at the stranger as the old dwarf slowly
descends the few steps down to the camp.
You leave the campsight.
Gwillim
A tall, thin man of indeterminate age, though a slight stoop lessens the effect
of his height. His long, thin arms reach up frequently to brush at fine
straight hair of a dull grey-brown colour that falls in front of his eyes. His
stoop and a sharp nose give him something of the appearance of a bird of prey.
His long, nimble fingers show dark stains, and his voice when he speaks has a
throaty quality.
With his face turn away from Gumbart he smiles, he then walks over towards the
little door of the wagon, to peer outside. With a shock, he turns to Gumbart,
with his smile turned into a deep frown. "Aye, a visitor you had said, I did
not realise what type of visitor you had meant." He looks over towards the
human with suspicion in his eye, "What do you want human, I'll call the wardens
if you don't leave now."
The man's scowl remains on his face as he answers, "Call anyone you please, as
long as you leave me someone to talk to. Even better, call a silver merchant.
How is a person supposed to do any business around here with everyone hiding in
their wagons? I need silver before the party leaves for Laketown!"
Gumbart scowls and says, "I doubt you will get any silver from us, man. If you
have something we might be interested in buying, go ahead and show it. If
you're here to beg, get yourself gone!"
Looking in satisfaction over towards Gumbart, Brican scurries back into the
wagon, only later to reveal a metal object, wrapped in cloth, "Don't force me
to use this, you can do merchant business at official times."
A tallsih man walks in from the west and begins looking around. Seeing the
familiar cart and owner, he begins walking towards the cart . He sees two short
dwarves yelling at him. As one scurries to their wagon and comes back with
something metal and threatens the man, he hurries his pace.
Gwillim's face turns a deep red as the first dwarf speaks, and he stares at the
second one. "Official times!" he spits out. "And when would those be?" He turns
back to the first dwarf. "And if there's any begging to be done, you'll be the
one doing it. You wouldn't be here is you didn't need something from us." He
falls silent, staring at the dwarves.
Gumbart remains unfazed, "No need to get exited, man. After all, you seem to be
the one eager to talk to us, banging at my friend's wagon." As he sees the
second man approach, he mutters to Brican, "And who might this one be? A friend
of our short tempered aquaintance, here?" Gumbart takes a look around, noticing
the placement of barrels, the location of his four ponies, the goods he brought
down from Erebor, the campfire with Brican's cold coffee at it's side. "First,
man, tell us your name, like any decent person would, why don't you?"
The man takes a deep breath and relaxes a little, though he mutters darkly,
"Eager! I wait in this place for a cursed week and he calls me eager!" At last,
after another deep breath, he calms enough to introduce himself. "Gwillim's my
name. And who might you be?"
Gumbart bows lightly, "Gumbart, son of Oibart, at your service."
Brican bows towards the intruder of his normally safe abode, "Brican, son of
Gricam, at your service." The dwarf is still unwilling to let go of the metal
object in his procession.
Gwillim is slightly taken aback at the bowing dwarves and he nods his head
briefly in return before muttering, "You dwarves always say that. 'At your
service,' you say, but to get any service...?" He shakes his head and continues
muttering to himself.
The tallish man approaches the small group near the wagons. As he approaches he
calls out, "Hail Gwillim! Been many a day I haven't seen you!". The man glances
over at the two dwarves, "And, who might your friends be?".
Brian_Taze
You see a creature around six feet tall, with black hair and blue eyes. He
wears a green tunic that fits loosely on his upper body. He wears a belt aroun
the middle of the tunic. He wears brown leather boots that look worn. He has no
apparent weapons, but looks as if he could defend himself if needed. He wears a
ring around his right ring finger that glitters with silver inlay. Lastly, you
notice a scar on his forehead, just below his hairline.
Gumbart bows lightly yet again, "Gumbart, son of Oibart, at your service. I'm a
merchant from under the mountain. My visit to my friend's wagon was just
interrupted by yonder man you seem to know." After a pause he adds, "Perhaps we
can finally come back to the original question, Gwillim, which is the nature of
your visit. What right have you to come banging on these wagons here?"
Grumbling under his breath as the other human approaches he weakly smiles
towards Gumbart, "What is it with humans coming uninvited?" Sighing softly to
himself, he finally unveils the item in which he has been holding. When you see
it you notice it is a nicely made silver pot, suitable for either cooking, or
defending one self in need against trespasing humans.
Gwillim turns as he hears his name, and raises an eyebrow at the newcomer. "Ah,
I didn't see you with the caravan. Are you not guarding in Lake Town?" He
glances back at the dwarves, "And these..." He pauses as Gumbart introduces
himself, and his scowl returns. "What right!? What right do I need to knock on
anyone's door?"
Gumbart knots his brows and his gaze darkens. Sarcastically, he asks, "Aye
Gwillim, I find your manners lacking indeed. What brings you here, I ask again.
Perhaps you will deign us worthy of an answer at long last?"
Gwillim opens his mouth, then closes it again, obviously thinking better of the
comment that he was about to make. He takes another deep breath, then answers,
"Did I not say right at the start that I seek a silver merchant?"
"Ah, no I wasn't with the caravan. I have come at the news of Mr.Stanson. I
will say no more in front of others...", the man says, as he motions over at
the dwarves. "I mean no offense sirs, it is just, I don't want this news
spreading." The man glances quickly at Gumbart and his companion and than at
Gwillim, "What have I been missing good people? If it be trouble, I hope you
have a good explanation, especially if it be with the caravan from Laketown."
Glaring over towards Brian for a long while before saying in a hostile tone,
"Of course there trouble, your friend here comes banging his way on our caravan
and you have the absurdity to ask us for a explanation, is this not our camp?"
The young merchant Brican looks less then thrilled then being interogated by
the human, his hands wrapped around the handle of the silver saucepan, ready to
strike at need.
Gwillim shakes his head and begins to turn away. "I will not take any more of
this! If you are here to trade, then trade. If not, then get back to your
mountain. This might be your camp, but it is in our city."
"He came to the camp without permission, than why, may I ask, did the sentries
let him through? Or did he sneek in?", the man says in a sarcastic tone. "I
believe it is your fault, but it is just as equal in Gwillims, unless he does
have a reason..? If so, I would like to hear BOTH of your reasons to make this
ruckus in the town of Dale!", the man says, yelling loudly the last part.
Brican smiles sarcastically towards the human, "You need not worry, we will be
leaving for lake town any time soon, once our wagon master is decided that it
be a good time for us to leave", looking over towards Brian, "You dare accuse
us of fault in your situation, are you daft in your reasonings? I believe it is
simple, he sneaked into our camp, and banged his giant fist against our wagons
side, almost breaking it with one foul swoop. IT is obvious who is to blame
here."
Gumbart laughs at the absurdity of the situation, "How many times have I seen
these men and their hot temper! Don't let them provoke you, good friend
Brican." Turning to Gwillim, he adds sarcastically, "Don't leave us now, just
when we realize what you actually want!" Looking around, Gumbart says
confidently, "The riddle is solved, he wants to buy some silver! Praised be he
who can articulate his wishes. But unfortunately, there be no silver merchants
here. We are sorry for you, dear and friendly Gwillim."
Gwillim turns his head back briefly as the dwarf speaks to him, but the words
simply make him angrier and he turns and stalks away, cursing loudly.
Gumbart laughs and calls, "Do take care, Gwillim the rash with the big fist.
Mayhaps you'll have better luck next time!"
"I find you both are at fault, even though I am more on the side of Gwillim. It
is not his fault he nearly broke yonder wagons. He was not at fault, he did not
know how small the wagons were. For all he knew, they could be full of goods!
He is too used to knocking on wagons of man size, not small dwarven wagons!
Twas both at fault, but neither should have argued. This puts a mighty shame on
the relationships of men and dwarves! This is why I have seen men in Laketown
make the fun of pushing dwarves into the lake!" the man yells as he turns red.
He tries to regain composure, but does a very bad try at it.
You say, "Hush now, no more talk of pushing dwarves into the lake or we'll have
to dig up old stories about the Masters of Esgaroth, shamefull as certain of
them were in the past. Let's not get excited about this, warder. And before you
go, please be so kind as to tell us your name," smiling sarcastically, "to
improve the relationships, if you know what I mean."
The man bows slightly and speaks in a normal voice, "I am Brian Taze, an
Esgarothian Guard. I tell you to be careful around our travel party, for I have
the ability to arrest you. And who might your companion be?"
Brican smiles towards Brian for a moment sarcastically as well, "Well I must
warn you the same, since you did us the honor yourself, if any of your people
intrude on our campsite, we will not hestitate to lock you up in a nice wagon
for a day or two."
Brian laughs loudly, "Are you sure one of us could fit into one of those
wagons? Only our wee ones could fit in thoses!", he says, pointing at on of
those wagons.
Gumbart chuckles, "We are not getting anywhere at all. Look here, dear
guardsman. I have business to conduct. Brican here is a friend of mine from
Emyn-Engrin, a cousin from the Iron Hills. Is that enough to satisfy you? If it
is, we ask you to leave so we can conduct out business undisturbed. If it is
not, do not hesitate to explain yourself more clearly."
Brian looks towards his own wagons and says, "That is all. If you have any
trouble with our people here, you may find me in the area near the wagons. I
bid you good-afternoon." Brian begins walking towards the wagons from Esgaroth.
As a muffled thud from a wagon nearby startles Gumbart, other dwarves can be
seen moving through the camp. Gumbart shoots a perturbed glance in Brican's
direction. A dwarf is bringing a bowl of stew to the named wagon. "I'll go and
see to my wares, Brican. I'll be right back." says Gumbart and moves off
towards his things.
***** Erebor Time + Weather Service ******************************************
** Real time is: Thu Aug 05 17:37:47 1999, GMT -8 **
Elendor time is: Mid Afternoon (about 3 PM ) on Monday, 25 January 3018. In the
Winter sky, Tonight the moon will be waning crescent.
****************************************** Erebor Time + Weather Service *****
Gumbart mounts his ponies and says, "It is mid afternoon, Brican, and I have to
bring these wares to my contact in Dale. I'll be back in the evening, if you
are still around by then?"
Brican nods towards Gumbart for a moment, "Aye, after the scare of those filthy
humans, I think it best if I try and get some relaxation, in what I thought was
a safe wagon."
Gumbart laughs and waves his hat as he rides into Dale.
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