Gathering

[tomcat]

Kori moved to sit at the small table in the room that he and Nori shared. The room was quite confining, but this did not prove to be an issue for the Dwarf after his many years in tight places under the earth.

They had only two so far. Not the results the craftsman had expected, or desired, but they would have to make do. Kori only hoped that there would be enough recruits to make the quest something they would survive.

He looked at the door again, waiting for Nori to enter with their 'guests'.

[Telcontar]

The halfling could be heard before the latch on the door could be turned. The laughter and back clapping sounded like a happy gathering was on its way up, but the conversation was heard to be a bit one sided. Beer in hand Gumbo entered the room and looked at Kori smiling he bowed again to the dwarf, "At your service and your family! Food I hope is on its way, no enterprise is worth starting on an empty stomach."

[tomcat]

"Harrummph!" sighed Kori at the sight of Gumbo. He nodded, "Aye, we shall have food."

Nori gestured to a seat for the Hobbit and Gumbo gladly took it. The elder craftsman spoke again, "We shall commmence when the other one comes in."



[OOC:] I like this hobbit!  

[Telcontar]

Gumbo took a seat at the table and with both hands sipped from his beer. "Master Kori, I can see that my joviality is somewhat disturbing to your dwarven temperament, but I assure you my words are true and so there not be any doubt, before we begin and the others arrive, of my sincerity..."  Gumbo rolled up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal a long jagged scar, "this wound I received in the Battle of Azanulbizar, while I stood behind my master Groin of the Line of Durin, before the gates of the pit. I can recall no tales of closer kinship between my people and yours than exist between myself and Groin. I tell you this not out of bravado, but ask any of your kin whom you trust and my story will be proven and my trust assured. I will not start a quest with suspicion of my character from a dwarf when I have done much to prove otherwise." Gumbo smiled a rogues smile and rolled his sleeve down, "I have spent the last six months spying out the liar of the vile Smaug and have come no closer to finding a way in never mind driving him out." 
     Gumbo dropped a small piece of charred slag on the table, "what it was I cant say, but what it is is the result of the dragons ire. A small token I found in the ruins of Dale, the closest I have been able to come. My first thoughts were that you were aiming for the Lonely Mountain, but now I am not so sure. Something about you says an older wrong needs to be addressed, I'll offer my services to you again when I've heard the particulars."
     Gumbo laughed, "I hope my seriousness has not harmed my reputation, now where are the others and the cheese and sausage, I hope my hint towards the smoked fish was well received!"

[tomcat]

A subtle look of respect crossed over Kori's face and then that of shame. Both disappeared just as quickly and the old Dwarf replied, "Well spoken and forgiveness asked for my rudeness. You character is not questioned, not by me or my household, but for one who has known shame so long, I have lost ability to trust outside my own." Kori continued, "Your presence here was requested by me and I have been none to cordial, so forgive me Master Gumbo."

The old craftsman stood and bowed to the diminutive Hobbit and then went on, "I have heard of your land far off... near the Blue Mountains of my kin. You have traveled far. Your experience has given you great insight for it is not the realm of Thráin I that we seek but one house much older and greater."

The two Dwarves and Hobbit looked up as the large man, Beren, entered the room. Nori gestured for him to have a seat, and having only just begun his tale, Kori continued from where he left off.

"I have asked you here today to aid me in a quest of great import to my family. I am Kori, son of many sires back to Tori, who himself was of the son of many fathers of the line of Linnar, whose people migrated from Belegost to Durin's folk when the world was broken at the beginning of the Second Age." Kori respectively kept the history of his people short, "It was Tori who had failed in a duty that I wish to right... to restore my family's honour... to restore what once was.

"I am looking for those that will follow me unto the realm of Moria, greatest of all Dwarven works, to enter it and find that the vaults of Durin still lie secured; that and to find an item important to my family line. I have little to offer in the ways of coin, but my nephew Nori and I will fully fund this expedition and do promise that those who accompany may take some treasures from our fathers' house in payment for this aid."



[OOC:] Because this is Middle-earth, and honour and right are a theme here, feel free to play on any qualms your characters might have for the taking of others' treasures to be paid (i.e. the treasures that lie in Moria are the heirlooms of Durin's folks). Of course, if your character has no problem with any of this then feel free to ignore. 

[Elrohir]

Moria, wow.  What a long ways away,  Beren thinks to himself.  You see great shock come over his face.  "If half the stuff I heard about Moria was correct, that is a magnificent place.  Isn't Moria far away, farther away even then the south edge of Mirkwood?", he asks (You must remember, he has only been as far as the woodland realm).  Beren sits back in his chair for a while, slowly sipping some more ale.  Wow, Moria, he thinks to himself, yet again.  After he comes over his shock, he says, "How do you intend on making such a long and perhaps perilous journey?".  He becomes calm again and waits for the answer.

[Telcontar]

Gumbo leaned back in his chair as he heard the word "Moria" come from the elder dwarf's mouth. He slowly removed his pipe from his belt and idly began to pack it. Moria
"I have been there before, at least to the gates of pit. I stood there amongst the greatest assemblage of dwarves this age has yet seen, while that gate vomited up more and more Orcs and their foul kin to break themselves upon our line. Dark were the many days of that battle until vengeance was finally had by the House of Durin. the Longbeards were not alone present all the Houses of Dwarves were represented that day. I recall a council that was had when some spoke of reclaiming the hall. A hush fell upon the elders and leaders of the houses, none spoke. It was obvious that the House of Durin would have to attempt this feat on its own, and in the end the wergeld was met and the armies marched for home." Gumbo began to smile as his next thoughts entered into his mind, "Moria...a small expedition could accomplish more perhaps than a great host. I will see this place, and in the ringing halls of the Deeps the spear of Gumbo Bellybottom will strike a blow at the darkness of this world. we may not be able to beat all the devils, but I'll be damned if their allowed to multiple in the reek unmolested from time to time! In and out, a passage in the dark, Gumbo's spear is anxious for such a quest! HAHAha!"
He light his pipe and clapped the young Beren on the back.

[GandalfOfBorg]

Nori doesn't look at his uncle or the others while the pitch is given.  When talk turns to that of his ancestors, their loss, and Moria, he grips the haft of the axe in his hands more tightly.  This and his family are everything to him.

[tomcat]

Kori looked to Beren, "I have purchased a small wagon and a team of two ponies. Our supplies and personal gear shall be stowed aboard, and then we shall walk to the eastern gates and then enter. Both my nephew and I have been told the lore of our fathers and know the location of the vaults. It will be a matter of getting safely within Moria and secretly finding our way to this place. I recruit your aid in this... you both seem eager. What say you?"

For the first time, Gumbo and Beren took in the whole of the room. There was no extravagance, but one table behind the warrior-craftsman was laden with seven round, leather scroll pouches. The man of Laketown was reminded of the Elf that sat alone in the common room with his many books and parchments.



[OOC:] Telcontar, when you italcize your dialogue, does that mean Gumbo is quietly thinking to himself, or speaking out? Let me know...

BTW, he's one worldly hobbit. How old is he and to what assemblage is he referring too? Lastly, can you accept my invitation to the campaign on the RPG Profiler? Just click the EDIT link by your character's name and then select accept on the invitation. Thanks!

[Telcontar]

OOC: I messed up the italics function. Only one word was supposed to be italics and that was Gumbo thinking about moria. Gumbo is 50 years old and i put his background in the notes section of his character sheet on the profiler. What Gumbo is referring to is the aftermath of the Battle of Azanulbizar and suggesting that some were beginning to put forward the the idea of marching the host into Moria and reclaiming it. However the Dwarves of the other families were not willing to do this after almost nine years of war the death of Azog was enough for them.

[Telcontar]

Gumbo looked up from his pipe, "indeed Sir, I am at your service. Now, as for plans...What is the route you wish to take? What of the wagon and draft animals when we enter the mine? Is there a stagging point that we can use close by that  offers some security?"

OOC: Tomcat, I'm going to use my realm knoweldge to try and figure out if there is a settlement of Woodmen or some other sactuary that is relatively close as a last supply point and place to store the wagon and or hire a couple of teamsters.
Realm: Anduin Vales Roll(2d6)+3:
5,5,+3
Total:13

Realm: Misty Mountains Roll(2d6)+3:
6,5,+3
Total:14

[tomcat]

Kori became animated with the Halfling's questions - he had waited years to put his plans into action and now he could fully display his thoughts.

"It would seem the wiser to take the road through Mirkwood. Once on the other side, we will trek the long road south along the Anduin River. We could have trouble along this route, but to take the road south around the forest would take much longer." The Dwarf was formulating all logistics in regards to food, water, and money. Along the Anduin, there would be ample water, hunting and roads that would still exist though few have tread them in the recent years. "I can only hope that the Elven-king within the forest will not hinder our passage. I do not believe that he will.

"We will take the wagon to the base of the mountain and then move our supplies with us via our backs. If the mission is a success, it matters not whether the wagon remains upon our exit. If it fails... will it matter to any of us anyway?"

Suddenly the craftsman face twisted in his efforts to remember, "Forgive me Mister Bellybottom, but my nephew and I were present at the gates of Moria when the battle of Azanulbizar took place... I do not remember seeing or hearing of you."



[OOC:] The latter paragraph is for you to go into more detail of your character's history Telcontar.

As far as your test rolls, the Vales do contain some settlements that could be used as small sanctuaries and staging places.

[GandalfOfBorg]

"He may not hinder our journey but no doubt if he catches wind of our venture, he surely will want proper compensation for passage," said Nori, continuing to grumble about greedy elves and other such unpleasantries under breath.

[Telcontar]

Gumbo smiled at the last comment by Kori, "Don't recall seeing a Hobbit do you?" Gumbo stood cleared his throat and begin to sing,

In the dimness of the shadows
Where we hairy heathens warred,
I can taste in thought the lifeblood;
We used sling before the sword.

While in later clearer vision
I can sense the coppery sweat,
Feel the pikes grow wet and slippery
When our Phalanx, Azog met.

Hear the rattle of the harness
Where the Orcin darts bounced clear,
See their Wargs wheel in panic
From the Dwarves leveled spear.

Still more clearly as a soldier,
Can I see the Legion close,
As our third rank moved in forward
And the short sword found our foes.

Once again I feel the anguish
Of that blistering treeless plain
When the Orcs showered death bolts,
And our discipline was in vain.

I remember all the suffering
Of those arrows in my neck.
Yet, I stabbed a grinning savage
As I fell upon my back.

Once again I smell the heat sparks
When my Dwarven plate gave way
And the lance ripped through my entrails
As on Nanduhirion field I lay.

In the windless, blinding stillness
Of the glittering Dimiril Dale
I can see the pinions rising
Forward! Náin! we could not fail.

Sitting down again he went on, "I spent many days in the service of the Dwarves during that war, I was but one of hundreds Kori, my small size and in Dwarven armour I am sure I appeared no more than a groomsman to you if you were to see me. I was often called Kuduk by the dwarves, a name for my people in general, but more dwarven sounding. Perhaps that name is known to you? In my youth I met Gróin in the Shire, my home. Gróin was the grandson of Borin, the younger son of King Náin II, and so could claim direct descent from Durin the Deathless himself. As I grew on several occasions visited the dwarves in their halls in the Blue Hills. It was here along with Gróin that the Dwarves first heard of the death of Thror, and his son Thrain, who now succeeded him as Lord of the House of Durin, swore vengeance.  I was swept up with the preparation for war and pledged my support to the House and spent the next three years preparing with the dwarves for the coming war. The war that came was furious in its wrath as you know. For the next six years I was a constant companion of Groin participating in many campaigns and battles of the war. I stood by him and the King during the battle before the gate, and it was here I was struck down at the very arrival of Náin with his kin from the Iron hills."

"I have been to the places that you are speaking about and campaigned there. I agree the passage through the woods is faster and may also be safer, especially if passage can be arranged with the elves. I saw an Elf downstairs, more than likely from the Woodland realm, perhaps he can be convinced to be or 'guide'.  There are wagons that the eastern men use, wains I believe there called. They are often seen in Laketown during market and carrying wine. These wagons can be converted to boats. If we can acquire them we can float down the river and avoid much toil. Also I know of many villages of Woodmen where we could at the least spend a night and at best use as a base and perhaps hire porters within a couple days march to the Dimrill Gate. The journey home is a different beast , but let's get there first."

Gumbo cleared his throat, "now where is that woman with my cheese, and sausage. Talk has made me hungrier and thirsty. Young Master Beren, I saw you speak to this elf do you know him?"

[Elrohir]

Beren looks up suddenly at Gumbo, "No, I do not know him.  I know about him though.  His name is Caramir, a keeper of lore.  He comes from the woodland realm, and is a brother to a guard that guards the paths in Mirkwood.  He might want to adventure with us, if he hasn't left already.  When I told him of the adventure, I caught a brief look of excitement.  But it was only a brief look."  He continues sipping at his drink.