Dwarven Travel Camp (Buhr Mahrling 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.
Middle-earth time is:
Daytime on Sterday, Day 22 of November.
Kalidar
Raelin
Brican
Raelin shrugs the insults off casually, and politely grins over to the scout,
"Perhaps it is because he knows he'll kill ye later and take 'em back.."
Looking back into the fire, Raelin adds, "Dirty humans are good fer nothin else
but axe practice.."
With all his will Kalidar fights off a snicker and a smile. He quickly darts a
glance of mild amusement to Brican before continuing.. "Ah, anyhow.. Besides
that fine pelt he sold me, has anyone heard of him..since the fire?" But even
as he rattles off his question, his attention is grabbed by Raelin's sharp
comment and he looks at the dwarf blankly, trying not to provoke the dwarf, but
instead catch his mood.
The bussling of the camp is increasing as lunch has arrived late for the
dwarfs. Mutton roasts on the fire, three lone khazad sit next to the fire.
Around the camp there is talk of a dirty human being amongst us.
The clatter of hooves and the quiet cursing of an old dwwarf can be heard
approaching. "Argh! These ponies will put me in my grave!!", says Gumbart. He
jumps from his pony, rubs his back and massages his tender bottom. "I hate
this, I hate this, I hate this. Why did I ever start travelling." He unmounts
his ponies and wipes the sweat from his brows. After a short pause he looks
around and sees mutton served at a little fire. He approaches and bows,
"Greetings, Brican, my friend!" He nods to Raeling, "Well met, warder. We
talked yesterday without an introduction, Gumbart at your service." He turns to
the last dwarve at the fire. "And at your service, too."
Seeing his close friend Gumbart come to the fire, Brican gives a large
welcoming smile in his direction. He turns to the fire and takes a large piece
of mutton to the objections of the cooks tending the fire. He takes the skired
meat over to gumbart and offers it to him. "I see that you have been long on
trip my friend Gumbart, perhaps this mutton will help tend your nerves."
Kalidar looks up from his seat and to the noise coming in. He sits in silence,
as the other Khazad, Gumbart, comes up and makes a rucuss.. He smiles at the
stranger and nods at his greeting, "Kalidar son of Zurak at yours good sir.."
At that he stands and gives a small bow before turning to Brican. "I'm afraid
my time is running short friend, and I must depart. I've tarried here too long,
and I can't afford to spend much time here." He presses his lips together with
dissatisfaction before continuing. "..but I'm still looking forward to that
pipe with ye sometime soon."
Raelin nods a passing greeting to the newly arrived merchant, "Well met,
Gumbart..Raelin, son of Daelin, Royal Guard of Emyn-Engrin at yours." Returning
his attention to the other two khazad, he replies to the scouts former
question, "I have seen him once at a tavern in town since our escapade..he was
speaking with a few other humans around a map. Up to no good I would assume.
Keep yer eyes peeled on our road scout, make it his coffin out there instead of
yers."
Kalidar nods to Raelin as he takes up his pack and prepares to leave, "Good day
to you all then." With that, Kalidar walks away tired, but steady and makes his
way north out of the camp..
Raelin watches the scout make his way north with perhaps an envious eye, his
thoughts seeming to drift to past days...
Snapping back to the present as the scout fades from view, Raelin turns
a hard eye to Brican, inquiring, "I don't understand the grudge ye hold against
me laddie...would ye care to elaborate to me about yer hatred? As far as I
currently know, it is unfounded..."
Sitting back down to the log after handing Gumbart the piece of mutton, he
looks over towards Raelin with a smile, perhaps mockingly, "What gave ye the
idea that I had a grudge against ye cousin, I thought we were the best of
friends."
Raelin sniffs indignantly and pulls his cloak tightly about him as he rises,
the brisk wind picking up across the plain. Nearly shouting to be heard of the
wind stirred roar of the fire, the gaurd snorts, "Iffn that is the way ye want
us to be cousin, let it be...don't say I didn't try to change things.."
Stalking towards a wagon well away from the fire, Raelin turns around as he
reaches the door and shrieks over nature's din, "A word for the wise
lad...don't cross me path the wrong way..." With that, the guard enters the
wagon and slams the door shut behind him.
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