* The Place:
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.
Rhovanion, Along the River Carnen
The wind blows cold from the north, and the grasses of the savannah that
stretch out here as far as the eye can see are browning and withering. The
River Carnen winds its way like a snake through this region, from a wide bend
in the northwest towards the Iron Hills south into the vastness. West across
the river you can discern over the unbroken leagues villages dotting the land,
columns of thin smoke from cookfires occasionally rising to disturb the
stillness. To the east is emptiness; rarely now a small herd of aurochs or
other wild grazing animal can be seen, but most have gone further south seeking
warmer lands. The sky above is clear, with a few ragged clouds scudding across
the mountains to the north. In the Autumn sky, The last quarter moon hangs low
in the sky but will soon sail high upon its nightly course.
* The Characters:
Gumbart
You see a short dwarf with grey, rugged clothes. His hair is grey and
long, braided and held together by small black pebbles. His beard is
long and a bit shaggy. Two braids are waxed and stretch back to his
ears.
This dwarf is wearing travelling clothes: big, strong boots; a dark
coat; and a warm shirt.
He is wearing nearly no jewelry.
Raelin
Before you stands a dwarf of medium height and build. His fluid movements tell
of a life lived moving quickly and silently. A small scar shows across his left
cheek, but other than that his features may have well been carved from the
mountains themselves. Every so often, this dwarf scratches his brown,
well-combed beard, and peers out intently with magnificent orbs that are as
hard and grey as the rocks themselves.
A long, golden tabard falls from the broad shoulders of this dwarf,
ending at about his mid-thigh. On both the front and back of the tabard two
axes crossed over a beautiful anvil are embroidered in fine detail with a
crimson colored thread. A wide silver collar is cut to mid-breast height,
symbolizing the rank of Royal Guard on this Khazad. Underneath the tabard the
gleam of a finely crafted hauberk of chain mail is visible. Covering this stiff
Khazad's legs are a pair of finely tailored black woolen trousers. The black
trousers are tucked into a pair of black leather boots, that are turned down at
the top, and are always polished to a shine. A black leather belt around the
dwarfs waist holds up a fat money purse, and an intricately forged battle axe
swings lightly at his side.
The fellow before you stands no more than 4 and a half feet tall. He
looks to be quite well bulked, though he does not look to be at all fat. Just
mainly made of muscle. His long white beard, streaked with black throughout,
extends all the way down to his belly. His eyes are deep blue, set well into
his face. His long jet black hair hangs down his back and his ears tend to
stick out just a bit.
Brican
He wears a crimson tunic of fine spun wool, a white axe and hammer
patch sewn onto the left shoulder. A heavier black woolen cloak hangs over his
shoulders, draping down his back. Black leggings and heavy leather boots adorn
his legs and feet, completing his attire with a functional and yet stylish
look.
* The Log
From a nearby wagon, a few noises can be heard, and a moment later a young
dwarf appears from the wagon. He looks around as he steps down from the wagon
slowly and turns his attention to the look at the occupants of the camp. He
walks up to a fire, and takes a cup from the nearby soil. He hefts the ketttle
and pours himself hot water into the cup. He takes a bag from his tunic and
grumbles some leaves from within the bag into the cup. He turns his attention
towards Gumbart and walks up to him, "I have not seen you before, your clothes,
they look strange."
Gumbart bows and waves his hat before his knees, "Gumbart, at your service."
The young dwarf bows in return towards Gumbart, "My apoligies, I had not meant
to be so rude, I am Apprentice Merchant Brican."
Gumbart nods, "Don't worry about it. I'm on my way to the Iron Hills, as are
all the other dwarves here. I'm bringing some tapestries from Esgaroth along. I
think they'll sell well."
Brican looks somewhat confused by Gumbarts words, "I am from the Iron Hills, we
have been travelling several days from there in fact, Are there more dwarfs
with you? "
The sun dips below the seemingly endless expanse of barreness to your west...
Now only the stars and the dim moonlight show the way.
The slight breeze that stirs the brown autumn grasses of the Carnen river
valley carries a slight chill off the hills to the north with it, a chill that
cuts to the bone of the Royal Guard Raelin. Shuddering and pulling his cloak
about him more tightly, the guard watches as the fading sun dips below the
distant horizon, somewhat in a daze from the spectacular array of colors that
don't often touch the eyes of the earth dwelling khazad. As the sun fades,
Raelin turns back to the camp and makes his way over to a warming fire, rubbing
his calloused hands together to generate some warmth.
Gumbart says, "A cousin from Mt. Erebor joined me on my travels, his name is
Stryth. He is in the pipe business."
With a slight smile on his lips Brican nods his head for a moment, "I think I
have seen your cousin in the troop a few times, but only from a distance."
Gumbart says, "I don't think I have met you. I buy human products from Esgaroth
and transport them for higher profit. I joined this fellowship because the
roads didn't seem safe anymore. Three transports have gone missing in the last
month. Now I'll check for myself."
Brican nods towards Gumbart for a moment, "This is my first trip without the
parents to watch me in there sights. So we would not have met unless you met me
when I was younger."
Gathering up a earthenware flagon, Raelin taps a bit of ale from a stout wooden
keg near the popping fire. Sniffing the brew, the guard wrinkles his nose from
the less than satisfying aroma, but takes a long pull nonetheless. When at long
last Raelin emerges from the mug, his face wears a satisfied expression and
quite a bit of foam on his beard. Wiping the remains of the brew from his lips,
he takes a seat near the fire with a sigh.
Gumbart shakes his head, "I am not well known in Mt. Erebor, even less so in
the Iron Hills. I usually don't leave the environs of Erebor. Usually, I send
my wares, as I said. What are you bringing along for your first trip?" After a
moment he adds, "Quite a dangerous first trip, going that far east, don't you
think?"
Brican nods towards Gumbart, "I have brought along some spices and herbs since
I heard that is in quite a demand, also some fine tea from the south, some of
the finest quality to be exact."
Gumbart nods in appreciation, "Good idea. I just hope the trip will continue as
calmly as it has begun." Then, looking at the well-trained dwarf drinking from
his mug, he adds, "Gumbart, at your service." and bows and adds, "How is the
area outside the camp?"
Raelin turns slightly and looks up to the dwarf who addresses him, raising his
mug in a half salute. "Tis a pleasure, I'm sure Gumbart," Raelin grumbles
slightly, "Raelin, Son of Daelin, Royal Guard of Emyn-Engrin at yers, however,
I have no idea how things are outside of this 'ere camp, I rarely venture
out..talk to the scouts iff'n ye wish to know that sort of information."
Gumbart bows again with a relieved grin, "So I am not the only one relying on
the safety of the guards. I am glad to hear it. Are you a merchant, then?"
Brican takes a long sip of his tea, savouring the aramatic herbs and spices
within it, he turns to look at the ignorant gumbart and shakes his head towards
him. Gumbart shrugs apologetically, "Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I had a long day
today. Of course you are not. Forgive me my confusion." and bows again.
Raelin raises a curious, shaggy brow to the dwarf Gumbart and shakes his head,
"Nay lad, as I said, I am a Royal Guardsman, personal escort of Milord Nori."
Gesturing to the scattered rocks and logs circled about the fire, he indicates
that his kin should be seated and grins, "'Tis no need to be standing around
cousin, this camp is welcome to all khazad, have a seat and share a drink and
smoke with me."
Gumbart bows, "Very kind of you." Rummaging through his bags, he comes up with
a cheap looking pipe and some tobacco, sits down and lights the pipe with some
coal. After a few puffs, he adds, "Actually, I have seen Lord Nori from a
distance. He seems to be very wealthy."
Brican nods towards Gumbart for a moment after he himself takes a pipe and weed
from his pocket and lights it with a ember fro mthe fire, "Yes he is, he be my
master, not that the would know it half the time, I get sent off to his juniors
half the time for this and that chore."
Gumbart says, "How is business in the Iron Hills, then?"
Raelin stretches his booted feet out towards the fire, letting them warm
gradually as he sips on the foamy amber fluid from his flagon. His eyes droop
as he listens to the merchants coverse together and watches small puffs of
smoke rise delicately to the speckled ebony sky above.
Brican says, "Well, business can be slow at times, The only reason why I have
the fine spices and herbs for the trip is because my parents had sent me a few
barrels full for a present, to help with me business, a once off gesture you
understand. Them two travelled most of the world together, and I did too for a
time, but now I have to go into business for myself and without much stock to
do it with you understand..""
Gumbart grins, "Oh, I do understand the problems. I still haven't found my
fortune in the world, and I've been trying for quite some time. The bandits are
just getting the better of me. It's either the guards that can't keep the roads
safe or just a strain of bad luck. This is why I decided to start some
travelling on my own." Gumbart laughs with a bitter note, "Not everybody has
the luck of Lord Nori"
Brican nods towards Gumbart, "Problems I haven't faced meself, only starting my
travels for the first time as a apprentice merchant. So far I have to say it
went without too many troubles, although yesterday there where two strangers
who came to the camp, one a trapper by the looks."
Gumbart says, "I didn't talk to them, did you? I was busy repacking my stuff
because one of my bags got ripped open in a thorn bush, yesterday."
Raelin's eyes open a bit wider at the mention of travelling alone and the
faliure of the warders keeping the roads opened and safe for passage. "I beg to
differ cousin on the point of the warders inability of keeping the roads free
from banditry. The warders work hard keeping merchants safe, however, it is
impossible to keep the road completely free. At least with the military about,
the theivery about has been kept to a minimum. About Engrin, there hasn't been
any real bandit raid for well on two years." The guard pauses a moment to let
his words sink in and take another sip of brew, then continues, stroking his
beard thoughtfully, "Beside, travelling alone is infinitely more dangerous than
with a good escorted caravan.."
Brican says, "Well Lord Nori came to me himself and asked me to talk to the
fellow, some of the guards was hassling him a bit, wanting him to show his
goods to them, but the other guard or scout, I can't remember now, said how
would you like someone looking through your stuff without permission, and the
other looks back and says Well if he's selling we have a right, but the man
said he wasn't selling and that was a end of that. By the time I got to the
poor man, he had already been turned off selling right there and then, but said
he would be at our destination later and we could buy some furs from him
then.""
Gumbart looks confused, "I don't quite understand. These two fellows blundered
into our camp without an excuse, not even for some decent haggling? They
arrive, take a look, and leave again? That must have aroused some suspicion,
no?"
Brican nods back towards Gumbart for a moment, "Some of the guards asked the
stranger why he came straight towards the camp, he said that he himself was
just taking this route as it was the quickest to get to the destination, but
the guards were suspicious of this, let him go but said that if they caught him
so near the camp again he would probably be kept within a wagon for a few days.
(
geocities.com/timessquare/6120) (
geocities.com/timessquare)