After the cataclysm of the First Age and its destruction of Beleriand, the Dwarven realms of Belegost (Kh. Gabilgathol) and Nogrod (Kh. Tumunzaha) were also victim to the re-shaping of Middle-earth. Fleeing from the destruction, the folk of Linnar of Belegost migrated in different directions; some establishing new homes in the northern parts of the Blue Mountains, while others came unto Khazad-dûm where they co-mingled with the folk of Durin.
When the Dwarrowdelf met its fate from the power of the Balrog, the exiles of Belegost that lived there followed the folk of Durin and had a hand in the settlement of both Erebor and Barukkhizdin in the Iron Hills. It is from the Iron Hills that this adventure will begin following a path south through Mirkwood on to Moria and its passages that lie under the eastern-most mountain, Bundushathûr, which the Elves called Fanuidhol and Men named Cloudyhead.
Tori was born in Khazad-dûm in the year 1931 T.A. He was a descendant of one from the house of Linnar that had taken up residence in the Dwarrowdelf many years ago after the destruction of Belegost. Though he was not of Durin's line, Tori was given a great duty within the Dwarven-city, that of Key-warden to the eastern Halls and the great vaults that were there.
It was in these vaults that were stored some of the treasures of Khazad-dûm, but most important were kept the standards for weights and measures that the House of Durin based all of their values on. The Key-warden was the only one that could take from the vaults a standard and it was his duty to see it safely returned, under punishment of death or even worse, exile.
Tori was responsible for the accounting of the raw ore that came up from the Mines that weaved deep under Bundushathûr. Passages out of the East Halls on the First Deep would take one down deep under the eastern mountain and it was here that Tori would spend a great deal of his time overseeing the valuation of the ores that were drawn out of the earth.
When the Balrog was unleashed and Durin VI was slain, the Dwarves fought a futile battle with the Demon of Power only to eventually flee from his wrath. The folk of Durin and those of Uri and Linnar became exiles and migrated north and east to at last settle in Erebor, the Lonely Mountain, and the far off Iron Hills beyond.
During the raging battles and confusion, Tori misplaced those he was held responsible for, his keys. Without them, he was unable to secure the standards so that they too could be brought along with the Dwarves in their migration. Without these weights and measures, established by Durin I himself, the Dwarves no longer had their standards to base their wealth and resentment and anger festered. Tori and his line would forever bear the brunt of that resentment and shame became synonymous with his name. The Key warden became a pauper in a realm of riches.
It was in 2810 T.A. that Kori, a descendant to the long deceased Key-warden, decided the time was right for the family's reputation to be restored. The great War of the Dwarves and Orcs had ended eleven years ago and it had a devastating effect on the Orc tribes of the Misty Mountains. Their fewer numbers should allow for access into the old Dwarf home, finding the keys of Tori, and assuring that the vaults of Khazad-dûm were still secured. As long as Durin's Bane was not disturbed, a company could enter and escape and Kori could restore his families name; restore what once was.
Kori sat by himself within the tavern's common room. He was not used to being around so many that were not of his kind, and so he made little effort to converse. He kept looking towards the door to see the return of his nephew, and he hoped that his search had bore fruit.
The Dwarf craftsman had sold all of his possessions to be able to embark on this journey, and now nearly all of the coin was spent. Still, Kori believed that they had most things they'd need and to pay the hired hands he would use promises of treasure... treasures of the House of Durin!
Though it grated his Dwarven-sense to offer up things that were not his to offer, still, he knew that if he was successful, then the weregilds could easily be paid. For with his success, pride and respect shall return to his name and that of his grand-sires and he and his kin would no longer have to live like paupers amongst their own.
The tavern's door opened, allowing the grey-light of day to cast within, blinding him momentarily. A heavy-set woman lumbered in and the door closed behind her. Kori looked back down to his beer.
[OOC:] Take the opportunity to introduce your characters here as they move about Lake-town prior to meeting with Kori and his nephew (GoB's character). Through private word of mouth, or perhaps a discreet flyer, GoB's character is trying to petition some aid. You guys can know each other if you want, or draw yourselves together here as you please. I will bring together any loose ends if they occur.
The door to the tavern opened once again, a short yet stout figure stood in shadow with the sun at his back making it difficult to recognize who it was. When it shut again, Kori could see it was his nephew, Nori. "Ale," he demanded from the barmaid and crossed the room to join his uncle. Setting down his pack but keeping his axe, Demon's Fang, the last heirloom of his family to survive since the loss of Khazad-dum, near at hand. He looked cross and a bit dejected. "I fear we have struck out here, too, uncle. This place has no real warriors or men of honor. I talked to a few and posted a notice, but I don't have high hopes. There are other towns to the south closer to the Halls whom would have more of a stake in helping us as they are harried often by the orcs of mountains..." he said, voice trailing off. He couldn't look his uncle in the eye with the cloud of failure hanging over him.
OOC: Character sheet forthcoming
Kori saw the younger Dwarf's frustration. It was something that they had lived with their whole lives - generations of lives to be honest.
"We will see what comes of it," said the old craftsman. "Since the dragon sacked Erebor*, this town of men has become a'bustle with foolish adventurer seekers trying to sneak in and retrieve our gold. Surely there are a few here that will be interested in what we have to offer - though we cannot speak of their honour. We shall give it another couple days' time."
Kori took a long pull on his ale, the foam clinging to his full, greyed, moustache. He wiped it away with his sleeve.
To the outside observer, at least those that were knowlegded in Dwarven culture, Kori's appearance was not what one would expect. He did not wear all the trimmings and baubles that would adorn most dwarves. His clothes were very worn; his leather tunic showed signs of age; and though neatly tended, his long beard did not bear any jewelry. In fact, Kori appeared to be a very plain dwarf.
The craftsman had many years on his shoulders and his face was grooved with hard lines. His hands showed evidence of years of work in the forge and tanneries. Kori and his nephew were of Linnar's folk who had taken up with the Dwarves of Durin ages past - and now reside with them in the Iron Hills.
Suddenly the owner of the tavern approached with a wooden tray loaded with food. The tall man passed the dwarves who eyed the sumptuous looking array as it was delivered to a nearby table. Kori promised it would not be long before he too would be able to provide such things for his house.
[OOC:] *Smaug sacked Erebor in T.A. 2770, forty years prior.
At the far end of the common room, near the corner were the gloomy fireplace sparkled, sat a lone figure, an untouched mug of ale sitting on the table before him. The young person was rather tall and slim. On the side of his table, leaning against the rough wall of the tavern, was a leather backpack and beautiful wooden staff. Wearing a cloak in deeply green and slightly grey colours, the only part of the body he was showing was his face. And that face belonged to an elf. The most prominente feature were his slightly pointed ears and a pair of very keen green eyes. The elf was sitting perfectly still, only his eyes darted restless arround the room, taking dilligently in everything that was there to see. They eyes spotted the tavern owner passing the table were two dwarves were sitting and talking. For one moment the green eyes observed the two short but stout figures. Some sort of spark seemed to be glowing in the elf's eyes, then again, that might maybe just have been a reflection of some glowing wooden sheet in the nearby fireplace. Suddenly there was a crack within the fireplace as a new piece of wood was cast into it and caught flame. The formerly glowing fire began to flicker and started to cast more light on the elf's table, revealing a leather map pouche and a piece of parchment, that before had been resting in the shadows. With that, the elf turned his attantion away from the common room and it's occupants, to the map in front of him.
Seen now by more light, the elf' faced showed his apperant lack of age. He looked very young. Younger actually, than any elf that the people of Lake-town had ever seen. Not that they did see many elves these days.
The trade-visits of the fair folk that dwelled in Mirkwood had become increasingly rare over the last years, but no one really seemed to notice or to care. But today, once again an elf was sitting in the common room of Lake-towns second best tavern and appeared to be studying the people and reading a map of some sorts...
The tavern door opens up. His face is covered by a shadow, but you can see his figure quite well. He is a big man, very big. His muscles bulge with every step. He takes a couple steps forwad, and you can tell he isn't clusmy. He moves with a...grace not found in men in his stature. He nods at the barmaid, "Ale, madam". If it wasn't for his size and for the constant clink of his sword against his mail, you'd expect him to be a rogue. He stops to talk to a couple more people before he stops by Kori. "I heard you are looking for some brawn on your adventure. I'm your man. I won't be able to come up with any great plans, but I will follow whatever command is given (if I don't have any complaints). I won't back down no matter what threat walks around the corner", he says with a wild glint in his eye. You want to believe every word of it too, he has that kind of personality. You can now see him from up close, he's very young in the face, with chin fuzz. He's got short light brown hair. He's wearing a tunic over his armour, but you can still tell it's been recently polished.
The sound of the tavern door opening once more made the wood elf look up again from his map. He watched the newcomer, a huge man, approach the two dwarves he had observed earlier. The man began to talk to the dwarves. The elf strained his ears to hear, what it was, that the man was talking about, but the laughter and busy noises of the inn drowned most of it. But the elf was sure to have heard the words 'adventure' and such in the statement. Without realizing it at first, a small smile showed on his face.
What were the dwarves up to and what would they answer? Back in the Realm he had heard nothing good of dwarves. Sort of a gap had appeared between the two peoples that once supposedly had been friends. The elf had read alot about those times when Elves and Dwarves had met and traded, but those days were long in the past. Today he knew, other elves would be frowing upon him sitting in a common room of a man-town, listening in to a conversation of two dwarves and another stranger.
Nevertheless the elf was fascinated and immediately pushed the troubling thoughts of his left-behind-home away and looked down on the parchment in front of him, an elder map of middle-earth he had copied from Thranduil's archives before leaving.
Doing so he strained his ears in hopes to hear more of the conversation taking place at the table of the dwarves...
The door to the inn opened, and those who gazed at it looked for where the face should have been, not finding it the eyes dropped lower, perhaps a dwarf, lower indeed the eye would have to look to see the face of Gumbo. Like the quick gust of a breeze the door was opened and in a russle of wool and cloak was closed again. The folk of the room being increased by one more.
The Kuduk stood half as tall as a man, and his cherub like face could easily be mistaken as a child, but there was something in the walk, more like a swagger, that told of experience and life out of doors. The hair on his head was a curly as that on his feet and Big People always had an urge to tussle it about when he was near them, the weapons that hung by his side, however discouraged such an act. Others more traveled believed they had found a dwarf possessed of two oddities, that he was clean shaven and that he was usually happy. Few knew that he was a Halfling, for he was far indeed from his people and his home. Wanderlust drove him deeper than that of the sea calling in a western bound elf and was obvious from his mannerisms. He was always on the move walking around, exploring and figititing if confined to one spot for any length of time. It was no surprise that wherever it was he came from he wandered off from it without a second thought and would probably only return there by accident.
Walking briskly up to the two dwarfs and appearing almost to have passed through or under the very large man they were talking to he presented himself to the dwarves bowing slightly.
"Gumbo Bellybottom, West Farthing, at your service and your family. I have served and worked with your folk in the Blue Mountains, and been spear companion of Lord Thrain in his travels in the west. I hear you are planning on going to places unknown to most, and those that do know them sing of them with great loss. I would like to see this place for myself. I'm at home underground and handy in many skills, not the least of which is an extra pair of hands in moments of need. I'll not ask for money from you, as I see this expedition is to improve your lot as much as any other, but a fair share of what's earned and an equal voice in which to say my peace as a full member. Talk amongst yourselves, I wait your decision. Good day."
Turning to the tall man before the table. "Good day."
And before a breathe has passed the lips in response he is off and over to the bar climbing upon a chair and standing on a stool.
"good day lady, Gumbo Bellybottom, West farthing..........."
"Clearly you've never met such a demon to speak such a bold statement," Nori said, not looking at the man whilst he finished his mug. When he finally did look at him, he a gave a 'hmph!' and motioned for him to take a seat. "But clearly we are in need of your assistance regardless."
----
OOC: Oh dear, not a Kender... ooops, did I say that? oh, wrong world.
"Fumbo Jellybottom or whatever you call yourself, come over here and let us get a better look at you. My uncle Kori, here, will dispense with the conditions, rights, and contracts as you so require but he will tell you if you have a say in anything."
[OOC:] Keep on with what you guys are doing but, I have edited Elrohir's post re: the Balrog. Durin's Bane is not necessarily common knowledge to folk - even the Wise speculate.
An elf!, Beren thinks as his eyes wonder from the barmaid, to a drunk having quite a few beers, to the corner, where he sees a tall and skinny being alone. "I'll be back, then you can tell me your answer. I don't care (much) about rewards, and I'll show you I won't back down from any dangers. But, I can't show you in here. It is neither the time, nor the place, so time will be the judge of that", he says to the dwarves. With that, he walks over to the corner. "Good day to you, sir", he says. "Are you from the woodland realm?". He eyes him suspiciously, but not in a bad way. Beren is interested in elves, only being out of laketown once in his whole life. The one time he went out, it was to the woodland realm, with his pap. At that time he was planning on being a simple merchant, but since then he has been studing the art of the sword. He silently chuckles as he remembers the scrawny ten year old he used to be.
Yet another costumer had entered the tavern and headed to the dwarven table. This time it was a hafling. The young elf had read a lot about the friendly people that dwelt mostly in and near the Shire and called themselves Hobbits. But what was a Halfling doing out here in the north? As far as he knew Hobbits didn't travel that far and usually stayed close to their quite luxurious homes and enjoying live by not being too far away from their soft beds and their warming fireplaces.
The small figure crossed the room with a swaggle and appeared right before the dwarves. There he held a short but impressive speech that his clear voice carried through the noesy room. Thanks to his keen senses the elf could understand most of the statement this time. Having finished, the Hobbit that called himself Gumbo Bellybottom withdrew to the bar, ordered a drink and striking up conversations with, well, everyone close to him, especially the waitresses.
Intrigued by the strange assortion of peoples he so far had only read about, within the confines of such a small town, the Elf's attention soon shifted back to himself and his surroundings, as he saw the man that had been talking to the dwarves before the Hobbit had entered, walking towards him.
He was being observed by the man with watchful eyes as he crossed the common room, but the Elf didn't see any hatred or distrust in them.
Stepping up to the table, the man greeted the elf rather friendly and asked "Are you from the woodland realm?".
The elf mustered his best Westron (which wasn't well used, but surely well learned and rehearsed) and responded: "A good day to you as well." He shifted his a head a bit to one side, revealing his pointed ears more clearly and continued, "To answer your question, yes, I hail from Mirkwood, the Realm of King Thranduil. Have you ever been to the woodlands, that I call home?"
Kori had become uncomfortable with how open the recruits were advertising his business. Well, there was only one way to hire folk he surmised, and that was by announcing it. Still, it was against his Dwarven nature to have his task so revealed.
He picked up his tankard and looked to Nori, "Nephew, gather the recruits and bring them to our room here in the inn. I prefer anymore of our business to be discreet."
Nori understood, and as a Dwarf himself, felt his uncle's discomfort.
The companions had a small first floor room down the hall and to the right. Kori began his way back, leaving the task of gathering the man and halfling to his nephew.
Beren sees his ears, confirming him an elf, and the fact he said he was from the woodland realm. "What is your name, and what is your profession? You look like a master of lore, or magic. As for me, I am Beren, son of Ceren, the merchant. Anyway, yes, I have been there, once, nine years ago. My father wanted to trade some items there, and wanted me to get away from the normal everyday life of Laketown. That was my first, and still to this day, only trip outside of Laketown. Then, if you choose to believe, I was as small as that hafling over there. Something happened there that changed my life, if you have time for a story", he says. The halfling is a queer fellow indeed. What is he doing all the way up north. As for the dwarves, the old one looks awkward and uncomfortable. But, if this is my way out of Laketown, I'll take it. He usually goes over first impressions in his mind after he meets them. He goes back at looking at the halfling, which was starting to get entertaining, but shifts his mind back when the elf starts to talk.
The Elf stands up in one fluid motion and gives Beren a slight respectful bow with his head. A bit more than a nod, but way short of a full bow. The elf obviously is well mannered but shows just a bit of pride. Giving a friendly smile when he hears Beren, now a giant of a man, comparing his younger self to the Hobbit, the elf speaks again. "I go by the name of Caranmîr, and I am indeed a keeper of lore..." he pauses, but only for the slightest moment and adds "and a student of the world, you could say." He motions with his right hand to an empty chair near his table and sits down himself, "please, Beren, join me at my table and tell me the story of your venture into Mirkwood. I am very interested to learn what has happend to you".
The excitement of an adventure soon to be finally hits Beren. Wow! Talking to elves, seeing dwarves and halfling. What would father say now? He sits at the table, takes a sip of his ale, and begins his story. "Nine years ago, when I was very young, I was studying to be a merchant. I didn't have time to be outside and play, those things weren't important to me...at the time. One day my father comes over and says, "In a weeks time, we will be heading to the woodland realm, in Mirkwood. You will see the elves who we trade with, and discover anything usefull there." I was excited, going to Mirkwood! I couldn't believe it. In a week we packed up our things for the journey. The journey there wasn't very exciting. And soon I became bored, itching for the forest to caves which I have read so much about to come into sight. Finally, four days later, we arrived. He set up his vendor, and told me I could look around. I saw many things, including some magic. It intrested me a little, but not as much as the guards drilling. I stayed there the whole day, watching them. When we finally had to leave, I was sad. I still wanted to be a merchant, but now I had seen something truly amazing. A mile out on the road, spiders came and attacked us. They weren't ordinary either. They were big, with many eyes. Father told me to run, but I said no. Just before they struck, an arrow shot and slew one. Elven warriors came out of the darkness and quickly defeated them. I had never seen anything like it. They moved so fluidly, striking, backing off, striking again. In minutes the spiders were all dead, and we were safe. From that moment on I studied swordsmanship. I am very good with a sword now, but I am still learning how to be as fast as the elves were." With that, he takes another long swig of his jug and asks, "So, Caramir, what brings you to our fine town on the lake?"
[OOC:] Hey Cut, I have no problem if Caranmîr remembers this story or event.
Caramîr listened to the story the man told. Pictures of his homeland sprang to his mind: pictures of his brother and their friend Galmîr, of the days spent wandering through Mirkwood. Giant spiders, Caramîr knew, were indeed becoming more and more of a problem in the woods of his homeland. His brother had told him that in past days, there had been some spider nests deep inside the forrest, but that the spiders attacked travellers on the open paths was nearly unheard of. If you strayed from the paths into the darker undergrowth, you could easily fall prey to Giant Spiders or things even worse, but in daylight using the roads you were normally safe. That had changed. Caranmîr remembered that his brother had one day returned home and told him of a battle with a group of spiders that attacked some men, that were travelling alone. The had been an argument amongst the elven party, whether to intervene or to remain hidden from the prying eyes and stand by. His brother Fincalan convinced the others to help, not only because the man had a child with him. Swiftly they defeated the spiders, made sure, that the two men were unharmed and rushed back into the woods as suddenly as they had appeared. Could this young man sitting right next to him, be the young boy whose life his brother saved all those years ago?
When Beren finished, Caranmîr looked up and spoke kindly to the young man's face:
"Giant Spiders are indeed growing more and more numerous within our beautiful Realm, as are other fell beasts.
My brother is one of the guardians of the Realm. Our Lord sends out parties, that are looking for the nests of those spiderbeasts and every now and then lend a helping hand to a traveller in need. Although the guardians never stay for long or talk to the people, they try to make sure, that good people may use the few open paths remaining throughout our woods safely. I have heard from more than one event like this from my brother. Although only once he told me, that one of the parties had come to the aid of a traveller with a child."
With that he paused.
"You ask, what it is, that I do?" A small frown crossed the face of the elf, making him seem older than his years, but the frown quickly faded away.
"You could say, that I have learned for years and years the lore found in mighty tomes and elderly scrolls collected and archived in the libraries of my wise Lord Thranduil. Aside from reading, I have had long talks and eager discussions with the wisest Lore Masters of our Realm. But right now, I feel that a new part of life is about to begin. No longer will I sit, day after day, in the libraries of my Lord, to study lore that may be outdated by decades or even centuries. I want to see what has changed in Middle-Earth since those days when the Tomes of Lore I studied were complied." With that the elf fell silent.
Caranmîr waited for a reaction to show on the young man's face, then he spoke once more: "Might I ask what is it, that you do, Beren?"
Beren understands, for that is the very reason he was there. He smiles politely, but you can tell Caramir has lost him, but only for a second. "I am the son of a merchant", he speaks. "Like I said, I was training to be one my whole life. But after that day in Mirkwood, I knew I never would be the same again. I knew I would want something bigger, almost the stuff of legends from now on. You say you came because you are bored with the same, boring libraries. Well...That's pretty much my story as well. I have been training to be a merchant for some time now. But I really, really want to escape this lifestyle. The ships and tolls are like your century old tomes and dusty armchairs", he looks at the innkeeper, "The innkeeper over there told me a dwarf was going to be here looking for some adventurers. I told my father that I was going to see the dwarf, and if he accepted me, go on an adventure. He smiled and thought it was just a phase, but I'll show him..." He trails off, a look of sadness is on his face. He looks up and becomes merry again, "To escaping the normal dregs of a boring life", he says lifting his mug.
Again the elf tilted his head slightly to one side. "It is not entirely true, that reading the Tomes and learning the Lore was just boring. I want to see, if what we learn is still valid and I earn to put my knowledge to some good and active use. I have to honest about that." He added the last part of the sentence while smiling broadly. "Beren, what can you tell me about those dwarves and that 'quest' of theirs?"
[OOC:] A reminder to Beren... the Dwarves have given no details as to what, where, when, who, or how - just a subtle announcement has gone out for those treasure seekers that will.
If anything, some probably expect that it is to go to Erebor and take from the treasures of Smaug.
I want to point out, I write the story in both the immediate (relative to your PC's) as well as cutaway scenes (i.e. the detailed info above about the Dwarves migration). This gives the story the body that you guys will hopefully enjoy, but it doesn't necessarily mean you know about it.
Any questions give me a shout.
"What can I tell you?", he repeats with a little bit of ale dripping from his beard. "I know they are traveling, I know they need more adventurers. I really don't know much else. Knowing dwarves, it probably has to do with either treasure, or a mountain", he says this last part with a toothy grin. "It doesn't matter to me, I'm just looking to go on an adventure. If you have questions, ask that grumpy looking dwarf over there", he points to the "grumpy" dwarf, Kori. He turns and finds out that Kori isn't here. "Never mind, talk to the other dwarf, the younger one", he says.
OOC: OK, I wasn't going to any way #:S... Whoops, Kori isn't here anymore.
This chatty lot is going to get us killed before we even set foot within the halls of our fathers, thought Nori. To the small group that has congregated, "Once you've received your refreshment or finished conversing," he saying eying the more talkative ones, "please join my uncle and myself in the back room where business can be discussed without loud voices or prying ears." With no other comment or gesture, Nori turned to follow his uncle.
OOC: Nope, this guy isn't the most personable of characters ;)
Gumbo stood upon his bar stool guffawing at some comment made by one of the patrons. He had by this time collected several people around him as well as several beers, though not a coin yet had fallen from his hand. "Who else but a man from Dale would try to barrel raft down the River Running!" I would say there was more wine in the man than in the barrel. Ahh kind friends Gumbo is being called away, well met and good day to you." with a wink to the bar maid he sets the two beers upon the stool at his feet and then proceeds to climb down. He walks over to the younger dwarf, Nori, and hands him one of the beers, "perhaps the sun grown wheat of beer will cheer up the dour taste of hoppy ale that has turned you sour. Will there be food at this meeting? Worry not master dwarf, to be sure the luck of durin's folk has not been good these past years, but the one thing certain about luck is that it changes."
Beren's eyes follow the stout dwarf as he walks back to the room. Then he sees the halfling follow, to the dismay of (pretty much) the whole bar. I wonder what happened to both of them to make them so....grumpy? "Excuse me, I guess I met the young grumpy dwarf for questions, but I don't think you should ask him anything anyway. Are you coming along?", he asks the elf. After the elves answer, he gets up, making a lot of noise, and makes his way quickly through the crowd to get to the back room.
Beren still spoke to the elf, as the other, somewhat younger looking dwarf started to leave the common room.
He was probably headed upstairs, were the tavern's guest rooms were located.
Gumbo, the Hobbit, followed the lead of the grumping fellow. Beren started to get up to follow the two of them as well, but then turned back and asked Caranmîr: "Are you coming along?"
When those words were spoken, it was there again, that eager spark in the crystal clear green eyes of the elf. This time it was obvious, that it wasn't the reflection of some flame in the fireplace, but the glowing spark of adventure.
"A tempting offer that is, indeed!" said the elf. Beren had spoken of some adventure or quest the dwarves where recruiting for. Caranmîr was exited, but calmed himself.
They are dwarves. Would they welcome me, an Elf, to their party? Most likely not, I would assume.
Normally, no elf would ever come to think of joining a dwarven expedition, leave alone joining one under dwarven leadership!
But Caranmîr, although as much an Elf as his brethren at home, was different at heart, when compared to most of the fair folk. Having taken his time to read everything that there was to be read about the dwarves in the tomes of King Thranduil's archives, their old kingdoms, their legends, their heroes and about the old friendship between his people and some dwarven clans had shared in the past. There was a certain fascination with the sturdy folk, that Caranmîr could neither explain nor dismiss.
And Caranmîr longed for adventure.
He had admitted that to himself on his first night in the tavern's common room.
But as soon as the glow had appeared, the sparkling had left the elf's eyes again. In a somewhat sad voice, Caranmîr continued:
"Beren, thank you for your kindness. But as much as I am interested to see if we could renew the old tales of friendship between my people and theirs, as much as I want to believe it to be possible, Elves and dwarves traveling together as comrades, I sincerely doubt that the dwarves would want me, an Elf of Mirkwood, to take part in any of their business. Whatever it may be. I would say, that it is of no matter what help or advice I could provide. As such, I won't intrude on them."
He rose up from the chair, again in a swift motion, and bowed, this time a bit deeper than before, to Beren. He spread open his arms in a friendly gesture said:
"Take care, Beren Elven-Saved. I hope that you find whatever it is, that you are looking for. I wish for your safe return to the town of your father's house. One day soon I shall expect to hear your good story of the dangerous quest and the brave deeds you acomplished while away with the dwarves and the Halfling. Until then, Farewell!"
Dratz! A long journey with two grumpy dwarves and an over excited hobbit. Beren sees the mad glint in Caranmir's eyes, and thought he would join him. "Are you sure?", Beren asks, almost pleadingly. "Someone has to help me keep the halfling under control and lighten the moods of the dwarves", he says with a smile. "If your sure, I'll find you when I'm done with this and tell you the great adventure of Beren and the something something", he says, mumbling the last words together. After that, he joins the dwarves in the back room.
With a friendly, albeit sad voice Caranmîr renewed his denial. "Yes, Beren, I am sure that this is the way to handle things." He watched the young man leave the common room of the tavern.
Once the Dwarf, the Hobbit and the Man had left, Caranmîr's attention shifted back to the map in front of him. Lothlôrien or Rivendell seemed to be perfect spots where Caranmîr should be headed when leaving Lake-Town. Maybe he could even be visiting the Shire and manage to see an Ent or meet with a Ranger. Sunken deeply in thought, Caranmîr, dispite all the noise arround him, started making travel plans. The Golden Wood or the Last Homely House of Master Elrond. A decision was to be made. Adventure was waiting just outside the tavern's doorstep...
[OOC:] For new players to my games, I do not carry any one thread to long and allow it to grow pages deep, so I will be starting a new one - but that doesn't mean you cannot finalize any posts or narrative/dialogue in a prior post.
To Robert and Shawn, feel free to bring in your characters in any future thread as you get them ready.
Not one to turn down a pint, Nori grabs for his second of the day and surely not to be the last. This one could drive a dry man to drink, he thinks and not for the last time. With a gruff thanks, he drains half the crock and wipes his mouth and beard on his sleeve. "When the time warrants it, I imagine there will be. But for now, whatever food there is will be bought with copper of your own. Now come on, the day grows weary and so do I."
Gumbo frowns at the thought of going hungry. Looking to the bar he calls back, "who would see me waste away to nothing within the walls of an inn? Please love, more beer and food for the boys upstairs, just a bit of cheese and sausage, perhaps some of that lovely smoked fish! Great tales will be in the telling when business is concluded!"
Persuade Roll(2d6)+10:
5,3,+10
Total:18
[OOC: How do I use the dice roller (I do see it though) and get it into my post? Never done that before. Help please...]
[OOC:] Hey Cut, all you need to do is click the dice on the control bar in the upper left corner (make sure you allow pop-ups for my website, or it won't open). Another small window will open showing the series of dice and input cells - just put the number of dice you want to roll in the first box (i.e. 2 for 2d6) and the + or - modifier in the second box. Then either click the dice on the left or click the roll button and a result will appear in the big box on right. Highlight the results and paste in your post. There is no dice roller log and so we have always played on the honor system.
I personally make my posts fancy with the formatting above, but you do not have to. The only thing I request is that you do include the following:
Skill roll type/Description: Armed Combat to attack Orc
TN to achieve: TN 12
List all dice mods: AC +3, Spec +2, Dim Light -3 = +2
And then the Dice Roller results:
Roll(2d6)+2: 2,2,+2 Total:6
Any questions, give me a shout.
[OOC: Thanks Tomcat. I tried and this is a test run:
Skill roll type/Description: Damage from Attack with Elven Sword
TN to achieve: ---
List all dice mods: +4 (Weapon does 2D6+4 damage)
Roll(2d6)+4:
5,2,+4
Total:11
Would that be okay? I think so.
My next question would be, what I have to type into my signature, to link to my character sheet over at the Profiler?]
[OOC:] I did your signature link for you but feel free to go to your profile and change it and also see how it is written out so the code works.
As far as the Dice Roll posts go, that is fine. You can dress it as fancy as you want. I just want to see all the mods you are including and what the dice roll is for.
The dwarves and their employees-to-be had left the common room. Caranmîr was alone again, dwelling on thoughts of the adventures that the Man and the Hobbit were about to undertake. What could the dwarves be up to. Caranmîr recalled the images of the the two stout warriors. One he remembered looked very atypical for a Dwarf of his age. There were no ornaments, the clothes looked quite worn and the demeanor wasn't one that Caranmîr would have expected to see in one of the dwarven people he had read about so much. One of the names, Nori and Kori, he had picked up during the parts of conversation he had overheard seemed to have struck a chord with Caranmîr, but he could not put a finger on it at first. Kori and Nori. There was something about those names in the back of his mind. He leaned back in his chair and let his mind wonder in the hopes for a connection to make.
[OOC: Caranmîr would like to see, if he can point a finger due to the names, from which realm the Dwarves hail and what other tidbits he might remember. I chose to go for the broader History:Old Dwarven Kindoms skill, as he has no way of knowing right now, that Moria is involved]
Lore: History: Old Dwarven Kingdoms +4
TN to be achieved: No Idea
Dice Mods: None, although he takes his time and concentrates thourougly. Maybe an Affinity Bonus from Lore: Realms: Moria might be appropriate... ;)
Test Results:
Roll(2d6)+4:
1,1,+4
Total:6
[OOC: Yeah, that's a big one to be made as the first test for a chronicle... :(]
Quote from: tomcat on Mar 29, 2008, 09:42 AM
[OOC:] I did your signature link for you but feel free to go to your profile and change it and also see how it is written out so the code works.
As far as the Dice Roll posts go, that is fine. You can dress it as fancy as you want. I just want to see all the mods you are including and what the dice roll is for.
[OOC: Thanks, Tomcat. I appriciate that. Also I have noticed that you have cleaned up Caranmîr's character sheet a bit. Would have eventualy done that, but thank you for taking time out of your schedule to save mine :)
I'll take a look at the code, to learn something for the future. I have very little experience and knowledge in regards to coding, so I might ask stupid questions every now and then. Neither afraid nor too proud to do this :) ]
[OOC: I take it, that Caranmîr right now, isn't even sure, that the short people he saw in the common room had been really Dwarves...Given the fact that he failed sooo badly. Or does he recall something completely wrong? ]
[OOC:] Caranmîr is unable to recollect anything regarding the line of Kori. I am not going to penalize anything right now with a bad roll, but it certainly may give Caranmîr impetus to talk more to the Dwarves to add to his knowledge.
Also, we use a house rule here for a penalty cascading d6 on any roll of double ones. What you do is if the dice results in double ones, you roll an additional d6 and subtract it from the total. A result in a 6 means you roll another d6, and so on. It is the inverse to the CODA double sixes rule.
Caranmîr sat there trying to remember something of the Dwarven lore he had studied back at home. But something unbeknownst to him happend. His mind started to wonder, he couldn't concentrate. His minds was pulled away from the old knowledge stored in his brain. He was thinking of adventure. He was imagining what it was, that the Dwarves were telling Beren and the Hobbit right now in the secludedness of their room. Caranmîr sighed and gave in to the wild ideas of travelling, among company and heaing out for a real quest forming in his head.
Maybe I should have accepted that young Man Beren's invitation to come along. Caranmîr looked down again on the map in front of him. Imladris and Lothlorien had lost a bit of their charm to him at this point. Trying to clear his mind, Caranmîr tried to decide which way to go in the morning.
[OOC:] Thanks for letting me get away with my two ones... Your house rule plunges two-one-throwers deep into the abyss of the DOS tables, doesn't it? Hope I never have to find out the hard way, in a tough spot! :)
On another note: What has happend to your Boba Fett Avatar?