View Full Version : Quest to Khazad-dűm

06/Feb/2012, 09:19 AM

The dwarves have grown placid and content in
their mountain fastness. They are shaken from their peaceful
day-to-day when more and more complaints surface of things lost. They
are not valuable things ľ not in a monetary sense, but their owners
hold them dear. And dwarves don't give up easily what they consider
theirs. They want back what is theirs, even if it means chasing the
thief there and back again!


and Kh˘rin Strongart</font> have
found hints that the thief may have spirited away their treasured
possessions to Khazad-dűm, the forbidden and haunted kingdom of long
ago. It may not seem worth the trouble, but then again ľ what dwarf
worth their salt will refuse an opportunity to enter Khazad-dűm and
see their ancestral home? It is not for battle that the expedition
will go there but to reclaim what is theirs. Sneak in and sneak out ľ
and woe the hapless orc that bars their way.</font>

For the rules please refer to the OOC
thread. If you have questions put an '@ OOC' below the post and post your question in the OOC thread.Also check for hints to the
actual situation

Anyone can join at any point of the
RPG. Just make a convincing entry. If you want to join the trek
itself, present yourself to the leader and convince him to accept
your company. If you decide to follow your own scheme, be welcome.
However, PM Kh˘rin with your plans for coordination.

OOC thread here (http://www.lotrplaza.com/forum/forum_posts.asp?TID=243277)

Edited by: Kh˘rinStrongart

06/Feb/2012, 09:21 AM
Kh˘rin sat at the table in the hall
outside the library and scribbled on a piece of parchment.</font>
ôProvisions ľ can be got in Dale.
Transportation ľ how many boats down to the end of Long lake? Six
to the boat? Must talk to the boatmen at Dale.ö</font>
</font>He continued to mutter under his
breath. ôI don't know how I got myself into this. Going to Moria!
Is it worth for a few scraps of paper?ö But his bibliophile soul
answered that with a loud and ringing 'yes'.
ôI really hope we can sign up some
experienced fighters ľ even sneaking into Moria will need brave ľ
nay foolhardy people.ö</font>
He frowned a little. He really hoped
the posters around Erebor and Dale had attracted some notice.
Especially the prerequisite Must have their own weapons and be
expert in using them. Which more or less was an invitation for
any barfighter and hoodlum. But he didn't want any riffraff to join
the expedition but good and reliable people. That's why he sat here,
waiting for people to apply for a job in the expedition. He'd have a
hard time interviewing them. He just wasn't a people person.
He stared glumly at the parchment, and

06/Feb/2012, 10:47 AM
Through the halls of the library could suddenly be heard a distant singing. The voice that echoed it became louder and louder to the inhabitant's ears as the apparent source neard the inner sanctum. Soon, the jolly singing was joined by the heavy clank of iron shod boots and a long shadow cast into the doorway where Khorin sat inside. Not long followed a stout dwarf clad in all dark, heavy armor from head to foot. In his arm he held a wide shield and on his other shoulder was leaned a battle axe with a broad head. Despite the grim look of this dwarf whose beard was a hearty chesnut and long with a few thick braids woven into it, he sang as if he was doing nothing more than taking a stroll in a garden.Haflin stopped as soon as he came within distance of Khorin to hear the words to his song. But though he was done with the song, he still hummed to himself and wore a quite wide smile as he approached the dwarf behind the table."Ho there my lord!" He said as he stopped his clanking boots in front of the table. "My name is Haflin of the Burx Uzbans of the great Durin's folk. I couldn't help but notice you are planning a trip, an expedition of sorts to the old home. I have to say I'm quite intrigued, my family once lived in that glorious kingdom you know. I'm sure there are plenty of our ancestor's heirlooms still there, even if it is a risk, I couldn't help but give into that old itch to get out of this musty cavern. Seems there hasn't been much to do about these parts for an age!" He said, taking on an optimistic and confident tone. He then set his axe down on its handle to lean against his waist which it came up to. Haflin displayed the weapon produly, letting the room's light shine off of its bearded form. "Oh for nasties I have no worry, this argument belonged to my father who fought by Dain's side at the feet of this very mountain in the year of Thorin's return and I can swing it as well as he did! I'll assure you my lord, I won't dare to be a burden to this journey if you'll but give me a chance to prove again my family's good name."

06/Feb/2012, 11:51 AM
Andegar Took

Andegar's hairy little hobbit feet shuffled along the floor as he approached the dwarf (Khorin) sitting at the table in the hall outside the great library. He felt a bit silly really, asking to apply for a spot in a team of journeyers when one of the prerequisites was that anyone applying must be expert in using their weapons. His weapons weren't even his own! They were ones he'd acquired on his way to the Lonely Mountain, and he was certainly no expert in using them. Still, he was here for a reason. He had been escorted from the Shire by a team of dwarves that were sent out to convince him that he was required for this journey. Apparently after the bravery of Bilbo Baggins, there was a high demand for skilled and stealthy burglars. By some kind of miracle, he had actually accepted, and found himself now at the Lonely Mountain applying for a quest to find lost treasure.

He had been treated well in his time at Erebor. It had been months since he arrived, and he had gotten along quite well with the dwarves. He shared the same beliefs about food and drink and celebration. Mainly that the three of them should be consumed in very great amounts whenever possible. But now came the time for what he was brought there for, and that was to prove himself worthy of joining the travelling party in search for the stolen treasure. "Greetings sir", he said to Haflin with a polite nod after the dwarf finished speaking.

Then he straightened his dark, curly hair and stepped forward to take his own turn to speak. "Master Khorin," he said, bowing respectfully. "I cannot claim to have any great skill in using the sword that I carry. In fact, it was not even my own before I set foot from the Shire. I do believe, however, that I was picked to come here for a reason. You have heard of the bravery and stealth of Bilbo Baggins who accompanied Thorin and Co. on the greatest of quests. It might interest you to know that I am related to that great hobbit! See, he was a Took on his mother's side, and I'm a Took also! That means I have the old adventurer's blood in me. I would be a handy tool in your quest for the stolen treasures. I can squeeze into tight spots and disappear and reappear at the drop of a hat. And if you have any questions about my dedication to the cause, you need not. The Misty Mountains are at least half way to my home, where I would be going anyway, so that is the direction for me! Besides, not every hobbit can claim to have made it all the way from the Shire to the Lonely Mountain like I have."

Andegar could be a talker when he wanted to be, and this time was no different! He just hoped he would have a party of skilled travellers to head west with, rather than having to set off for his home all by himself. That was sure to lead to an early death.

06/Feb/2012, 12:17 PM
Kh˘rin's worried frown smoothed at hearing joyful singing. It needed a special kind of happy spirit not to fall silent at the view of the great doors of the library and feel a hush settle on themHe eyed the well equipped dwarf in front of him. He certainly did not give the impression of a ruffian and layabout. "Welcome Master Haflin. I am Kh˘rin Strongart, no lord, no sir, just a simple Kagam. I see, you come well equipped, not only armour but also in spirit." For a moment he wondered how to estimate the fighting skills of Haflin, but then he gave a mental shrug. He would prove his worth along the way, there were plenty of dangers before even reaching Moria. "I gladly accept your company, Master Haflin. The expedition will meet in Dale in three days time, at the Inn of Bard's Victory. King Dain will furnish means of transportation and basic fare, but if you fancy more than dry meat, cram and small beer you might want to look for additional provision in Dale. I expect you there at sunrise, three days from now."Kh˘rin had barely written down Haflin's name on the list and indicated his armour when he heard the shuffling of the next volunteer. He rose his eyebrows in surprise at hearing that the hobbit had been called to Erebor especially for this expedition. "Well, Master Took, you have come a long way to be of assistance. I gladly accept your company. I hope to see you again on the morrow three days from now." He gave a nod to the hobbit and smiled a little worried. Bilbo Baggins might be a great name in Erebor, but then he understood that Bilbo's abilities were somewhat 'special'. Could this Took really live up to his relative's big name? They might find out soon enough. He carefully jotted down the name Andegar Took.

06/Feb/2012, 02:38 PM

Yukog Dwarf</font>
</font>Ludhin never dropped his gaze from the gathering crowd surrounding the expedition leader, Khorin. Hasty was the only word that could come to mind about the whole affair, but Ludhin couldn't find fault for those choosing to go; he too was hasty well into his mid 150's. Now at the ripened age of 200, any quest short of following his king into battle was for those younger than he.</font>
</font>None the less, Ludhin offered the services of the great Blacksmiths of the Yukog Clan when word of this quest first circulated around the mountain. As a token of luck, he carried in his hands two glass and metal lamps, each swinging from a six foot steel pole. </font>
</font>"Aye, Khorin, I see the day has come at last for your quest. I know I speak for many remaining here at Erebor the best of luck. We have heard rumors of Balin's falling, which in Durin's name we hope is false, but any news you can send us back would be greatly appreciated. " </font>
</font>Ludhin handed off the lamps, one each to the hobbit, Andegar Took, and a Burx Dwarf he's seen in the halls, Haflin. "Master Hobbit, you'll find these lamps are quite light to carry. The poles are hollow, so any member of the expedition can carry the torch without needing the strength and muscle of a dwarf. They are strong as well; I daresay you can use the pole to whack an orc over the head or at the shin and protect yourself." Ludhin gave the hobbit a sturdy clap on his back and turned back to Khorin.</font>
</font>"Khorin, I have several basic weapons stored in my blacksmith cave- knives, throwing axes, daggers. Nothing ornate, but will stand up to a good fight. If any member of the expedition finds themselves in need of additional weapons or supplies for the journey, feel free to send them to Blacksmith Cave #54, right off the main Hall of the Yukogs. We'll do what we can and scrounge around to find the right supplies as necessary."</font>
</font>Ludhin turned to Haflin. "Farewell, Haflin, and good luck in your quest. Should you find jewels or mithril, I shall be honored to forge them into your axe upon your return. I've never looked beyond the Dimrill Gate into the Dwarrowdelf, though every Longbeard's heart secretly wishes to see the majesty.</font>
</font>He turned back once more to Khorin. "King Dain has long disapproved of a takeover of Khazad-Dum, but I hope your quest receives his blessing. Either way, have the courage to ask his blessing in the Throne Room before you depart. If you do, I will see you in the Throne Room. If not, farewell and good luck."</font>
</font>Ludhin bowed low to the three and departed back to the Hall of the Yukogs.</font>

06/Feb/2012, 04:18 PM
"Grimnir, at your service," said the dwarf as soon as Khorin was available. "If it's axes you need, then you had best write my name down." He thumped the butt of his axe on the ground. "I have my own. It has seen battle, and thirsts for more. And why should it not? Ripe is the time for the dwarves to take back what is theirs." He stood proudly, as though it were once again the day of their victory at Erebor.</font>

06/Feb/2012, 06:35 PM
Outside the Library</font></font>Kh˘rin nodded at Ludhin. "Thank you, Ludhin. I will certainly send anyone in need of a weapon to your Blacksmithy at the Yukogs. They are the finest weaponsmiths for a long way around - even the men in Dale have to admit it. As for King Dain's blessing - he ordered the expedition himself, and supports it."</font></font>The next applicant was not a wordy one. He presented himself proudly. Kh˘rin shook his head. "Master Grimnir, we are glad for every axe, but the time of taking back Moria has not yet come. We hope to enter by stealth and leave without engaging in battle, although the risks are high even in this endeavour. But your axe is of use even on the long way to Moria - there are still unnamed evils in the Mirkwood that may require a sharp blade to see us though. Please meet the expedition three days from hence on the morrow at the 'Bard's Victory' in Dale." </font></font>He nodded at Grimnir and entered his name carefull on the list. </font>

Hallas C. Pehwarin
06/Feb/2012, 11:42 PM
NPC~Celandil son of CelevÝr

Ranger of the North

now approaching the Lonely Mountain

known to even the survivors of fallen northern

kingdom of Arnor as Erebor

The weathered looking d˙nedain of 53 years had managed to come to the fabled domain of the dwarves; Erebor known also as the Lonely Mountain. Their ruling line; the longbeards dwelt here for nearly 70 years after the downfall of old worm Smaug whose
skeleton the ranger had glimpse upon the bottom of the lake as he and
his mount journeyed by ferry across the Long Lake that was connected to
the River Running. Celandil had made the journey astride his rough looking greyed haired horse Varniher(Duncan)
who snorted as they finally found the main fine stone path that lead
through the rebuilt town of Dale toward the Main Gate of the Lonely

This direct descendant of the 'faithful' N˙menˇreans or Elendili was
clad in the attire that was common among his scattered people; the
survivors of the long lost realm of Arnor. The 53-year old northern
d˙nedain wore a long sleeved cotton beige shirt, a pair of grey suede
leather leggings and tall weathered stained brown boots flecked with
mud. Over this simple rustic clothing rested a tougher
short sleeved suede dark green leather tunic with detachable chain-mail
sleeves secured by thick leather points. The chain-mail's interior was
quilted in soft burgundy silk to prevent chafing or snagging on any of
the clothing worn
underneath or exposed skin. Over this inner well crafted and inner
tunic was a sleeveless hard dark black leather jerkin that offered
protection while not sacrificing mobility. Protecting his waist to the
thighs of his muscular legs the seasoned ranger wore a matching seude
black leather traveling skirt. Whose interior hid two more sheets of
attached to the skirt by thick leather points and the chain-mails
interior side was quilted in soft burgundy silk to prevent snagging on
any of
the clothing worn underneath.

Celandil wore about his slim and flat stomach of his black leather jerkin his </span>plain grey belt and attached to it were </span>his wooden scabbard wrapped in dark green leather that crisscrossed down its length.</span>The
scabbard was capped with steel locket and an elegant steel chape that
matched the conical steel pommel of his families very ancient </span>N˙menˇrean Long</span>sword.
It was nearly 2,000 years old having distinction to born into combat
during the Last Alliance and all of the troubles that had eventually
befell the realm of the north; Arnor.</span> Upon the weather stained grey belt rested two brown leather pouches. The 1st contained herbs for
healing along with several bandages, and the 2nd carried small amount of pipe-weed
from the Shire</span>
being Longbottom Leaf obtained in the village of Bree along with most of
his other supplies. The ranger's forearms were protected by a two piece
set of leather vambraces; an inner patterned guard and outer plate of
boiled brown or beige leather tooled with a single 6 pointed and rayed
silver star gilded in bronze. </span>Over all of this concealing
attire rested a long dark grey cotton cloak whose wide hood and interior
side was quilted lightly in forest green leather. At the nape of his
neck rested a polished circular broach. In the center rested a single
silver 6-pointed and rayed star. This was the emblem that denoted all of
the surviving folk of the D˙nedain </span>who served as Rangers of the North and their noble Chieftain Aragorn, son of Arathorn known to many in Middle Earth as Strider.

Now did with his left callused left hand did 53-year old northern
d˙nedain cast back the hood of his dark grey cloak to reveal his somber
weathered face. For this valiant descendant of the 'faithful'
N˙menˇreans or Elendili had a high oval shaped forehead whose top was crowned thick dark blond hair that fell about his wide broad shoulders,
yet was considered fair by some ladies but did show of his tireless
efforts to defend his long lived race and
his venerable Chieftain whom he'd served now for over 35 years, a
pair of thin dark blond eyebrows, underneath them rested two eyes whose
irises were the color of rich steel grey. Since the grey eye color was
predominate among those who had once dwell within the once proud realm
of the north Arnor. In between them rested a large aquiline nose,</span> on either side of the rangers' weathered face were two</span> medium sized ears covered partially by his thick long dark blond hair, followed by</span>
a pair of tanned well toned cheeks, continuing down to a pair of pale
pink lips that defined his mouth that did form into a sly smile for any
ladies present, and finally ended his </span>nicely curved rounded chin covered
by a short black stubble of a new beard now</span> completely filled in.

Celandil now spoke out to those dwarves on duty at the Main Gate as he dismounted from Varniher(Duncan)
checking to make certain that the two saddles bags the carried his gear
were still secured and ready to go back down into Dale once his
business was concluded here securing him to a wooden stable post that
was located off to one side of the gate for travelers to tie up their
horses. His deep basso voice was cool and compose, "Good day fellow dwarves of Erebor. " "I am Celandil son of CelevÝr and I come to aid one of your own ( Kh˘rin </font>Strongart</font>)." "May I enter your fabled mountain and seek him." One of the dwarf guards came forward to peer up at him and spoke brusque tone , " Ranger if you have business with one Kh˘rin then seek him out last I heard he was in the library or in one of the extra halls used for relaxing reading being focused on gathering some of our own for some crazy endeavor and I hope that he succeeds in whatever task he's chosen to undertake."

The seasoned ranger nodded his dark blond haired head and spoke again ended their chat, " Thank you We'll shall indeed succeed in this endeavor."
At that the dwarf guard grunted and moved back into his position beside
his fellows who stood upon either side of the gate bearing great war
axes of dwarven design. All wore stable armor and helms that too bore
fine </font>dwarven </font>craftsmanship. Celandil
now glanced about restored mountain realm vast sprawling stone interior
its hallways lit with torches resting in iron shod brackets every few
feet upon either side. This was the 53-year northern d</font>˙nedain's 1st time within the Lonely Mountain and already he was impressed with the restoration of the dwarven kingdom that was ruled by Dain Ironfoot.

Now Celandil walked down the hall towards the library stopping short just outside of sprawling area that contained many tomes that were written in now doubt in the language of the dwarves Khuzdul. The ranger did not know much about the dwarves native tongue and glad that all so far were willing to speak the Common Tongue of Middle Earth Westron. Entering one of the resting halls that lay adjacent The 53 year old northern d˙nedain spoke out to all that were situated or standing gazing upon all with his steel grey colored eyes seeing several arrayed as if battle was already upon their realm itself, "Fellow dwarves of Erebor. " "I am Celandil son of CelevÝr Ranger of the North and I come to aid one of your own who is seeking the wealth of your former kingdom of Khazad-dűm though known now as Moria." " I pledge my families ancient sword and seek to replace a large gem that was a black pearl and had the emblem of my noble Chieftain the White Tree of N˙menor that was embossed with your most precious metal Mithril or True-Silver that has gone missing from its curved steel crossguard."

The 53-year old ranger now moved forward and with reverence removed his families ancient N˙menˇrean Long</span>sword. The steel hilt and crossguard as well as the long sharpened 3 and half foot blade that had a wide deep fuller running down the middle ending before its taper fine point. The edges of the fine sword gleamed in the light from the nearby fire and candle torches and revealed the empty mount that had once held the fabled black pearl with its Mithril embossed emblem of the exiled N</span>˙menˇreans; the fabled White Tree of N˙menor, Nimloth whose image was still in full blossom.....

OOC: If there are any problems Kh˘rin with my request please PM and I'll rectify or edit my post accordingly I've also added you to my buddy list that way we can keep in contact for the start of this thrilling RPG.</font>smileys/smiley11.gifsmileys/smiley19.gif

07/Feb/2012, 12:30 AM
Pall leapt down from the back of AmariŰ and left his faithful horse standing outside the doors of The Lonely Mountain. He hated to let her out of his sight but knew that the tunnels were no place for a horse, even one so brave as he knew her to be. Checking that his two swords were secure on his back he entered. Making his way through the passages he finally found what he was looking for. Entering the chamber he doffed his pointy hat and bowed to the Dwarf seated at the table.

I can only hope I have found the right place. Word has reached me that there a journey planned, possibly an adventure. That is something I am always ready to undertake. Pallador, at your service. Even in these latter days, when spellwork is on the wane, perhaps the services of a Wizard would be of some aid to you. At the very least, may I offer you the service of my two swords, Ianrin and Aucirieren?

BaingÝl RandÝr
07/Feb/2012, 03:58 AM
Maedgam the Juggler</font>

</font>Maedgampraised Eru silently that the dwarves liked high ceilings as he made his way toward the library of Erebor. It was probably strange for the dwarves to see an elf who dared to enter the gates of the Lonely Mountain - despite elves and dwarves being on somewhat more peaceful terms, they weren't entirely on the best terms ever. However, Maedgamdidn't care, despite knowing this. He waved a dwarf over - the dwarf looked at him suspiciously. "Which way to the library, my good fellow?"Maedgamsaid.</font>
</font>The dwarfexplained the directions. Easy enough to follow, Maedgamthought.</font>
</font>"Thank you, and may your beard grow ever longer!"the elf said before continuing on his way.</font>
</font>There were a number of people of all sorts waiting when Maedgamrounded a corner and found himself exactly where he wanted to be. A table stood at the entrance to what must assuredly be the library, and a dwarf (Kh˘rin) sat at it, taking the names of each of what must be the most varied group of explorers in Middle Earth. Maedgameyed the line, then took three balls out of a pouch that hung at his side - one red, one green, one yellow - and began to juggle them while he waited. The three balls flew low and fast, a whirl of color. Occasionally one ball would spring out of the group, flying higher over the other two, and then fall back into the whirl, which Maedgamkept flying at a remarkably even rate, his pose and face deceivingly relaxed despite the speed of his hands.</font>
</font>It wasn't long before it was Maedgam'sturn to give his name to Kh˘rin. He placed the balls back into his pouch and bowed jauntily. "Maedgam, at your service, along with my sword." He patted the aforementioned weapon that hung snugly at his side. "Having nothing better to do I thought I had best see what adventure the Dwarves have to offer. An extra hand in a fight might come in handy, and my small skill with juggling might amuse a few around the campfire, which never hurt anyone. May I join your little expedition?"</font>

07/Feb/2012, 07:45 AM
Outside the Library</font></font>Kh˘rin looked up from his parchment at the next to offer his services. At the sight of the tall human (Celandil)he supressed an urge to recoil. The man certainly did not have the swarthy look of a Haradrim but Kh˘rin had learned from his earliest days that no good came from humans. Since then he had occasion to know better, but his instinctive reactions were hard to get rid of. </font></font>He took a deep breath, straightened a bit an then listened to the Dunedain's offer. "Master Celandil, I want to make clear that the first and foremost objectiv of this expedition is to secure certain objects we suspect to be in Moria. Wealth is not what we are seeking, but if we happen to come across it, then we may well take what's ours. I cannot guarantee you that you will find a worthy replacement for the gem lost in Moria. If you are nevertheless willing to join, then I accept your offer." </font></font>He carefully entered the name Celandil Celevirssonon the parchment.</font></font>Next came a - Kh˘rin blinked a moment - a wizard. Kh˘rin hid his misgivings behind a smile. It would not do to treat a wizard badly. And although he had no truck with fancy firework and such there was no knowing when a wizard might come in handy. </font></font>"Master?" how the heck did one adress a wizard, Kh˘rin thought and fumbled for words, "Master Pallador. We of the dwarves know of the role a wizard played in the retaking of Erebor so believe me when I say that your offer is most gladly accepted."</font></font>After that came an elf. A juggler at that! Flibbertigibbet - Kh˘rin stamped down on his impuls to speek rashly and smiled politely. </font></font>"Master Juggler. Are you an elf of Mirkwood? I am still seeking a guide who knows the dangers of the forest and will get us through savely along the old forest road. Do you know what dangers lurk in the dark?"</font></font>He jotted down the name of Maedgam under the names of Celandil and Pallador and then adressed all three</font></font>"Three days from hence on the morrow we will meet at the inn 'Bard's Victory'. Till then I bid you fare well."</font>

07/Feb/2012, 04:41 PM
CorudirOutside the Library

As Corudir approached the diminutive creature (Khorin) who sat at a table taking down names for the expedition, he could not help but overhear him asking another elf (Maedgam) if he was an elf of Mirkwood, and also something about guiding them through the forest. Corudir sneered, knowing Maedgam was a juggler, and juggling was a frivolous pursuit. He approached the dwarf and eyed him, eventually nodding briefly in greeting. He did not despise dwarves, but why bow to someone who was not a lord or king?
"Master Khorin, I am Corudir, an elf of Mirkwood. I live alone in the woods farther away from Thranduil's halls, and do a fair bit of traveling within the forest. If you are looking for a guide, I offer my services." He paused, and then indicated his weaponry, a recurved bow and a shortsword. "I am proficient enough in swordcraft and archery. Perhaps not to the level of some of my exalted kindred, but I can defend myself and others, if need be." He was not an overly cheerful fellow, often preferring the company of books and scientific instruments to that of other people. He had heard of this expedition, though, and could not resist the opportunity to visit Moria. Khazad-dum, he mentally corrected himself. No need to call it by the elvish name the dwarves seemed to dislike.

07/Feb/2012, 06:38 PM
Outside the Library</font></font>Kh˘rin's eyes wandered up to the tall elf giving him a perfunctory nod. For a moment he wished the desk behind which he had taken station was on a dais - having humans and elfs tower over him didn't really help him feeling comfortable in hiw task of assessing. </font></font>He looked at the bow and sword. There was no reason to think the elf would be anything but competent if he claimed so. And having an experienced woodsman was certainly of advantage. He returned the nod as curtly as it had been bestowed.</font></font>"Master Corudir, your guidance will be highly welcome. There cannot be enough eyes on the lookout to keep the company safe." For a moment he eyed the elf. There was something around the eyes he recognized - a certain reclusiveness maybe? But Kh˘rin so far had had little contact with elves and didn't feel too comfortable in their company. He would have to do a fair bit of learning in such a mixed expedition - human, dwarf, elf, hobbit, even wizard. He just hoped such varied people did not cause too many trouble. He dipped the quill into the inkpot and carefully noted the elf's name.</font></font>"Master Corudir, meet the company at latest three days from now in Dale at the 'Bard's Victory. There will be room on a pony for your pack, but you will have to share it with two more of the company."</font>

07/Feb/2012, 07:46 PM
Outside the library

The inner corridors of Erebor were like mazes, at least to an Elf who was not accustomed to going underground. Aduchil had never been to Menegroth, or even just Thranduil's halls, and he had never been in a Dwarven stronghold before. At least the Dwarves had little issue with making their hallways many times larger than was necessary, so the tall Elf had so far managed to avoid hitting his head on anything. He had asked for directions a few times. Sometimes he had been given a response in the Khuzdul language that he knew nothing of, other times somebody had kindly explained to him in the common tongue which way to go. It usually lasted him about a hundred yards before the turns required that he ask somebody again.

He had attracted a few angry stares, which he imagined was because some thought he was from Mirkwood. Aduchil imagined that tensions could still run high; it had not been that long ago since Elves and Dwarves fought each other on these slopes, only united by the arrival of a common foe. To any Dwarf who had fought in that battle, it was easy to see an Elf as an enemy. And although other Elves might think it obvious that Aduchil was clearly not from Mirkwood, he did not imagine that Dwarves could spot such intricacies, or would have cared if they could. After all, he himself could not really tell the different Dwarven clans apart. So he did his best not to allow any hostility brew inside of him and instead focused on finding the Dwarf that the posters had announced.

Taking another turn, Aduchil saw a small gathering of people. What caught his attention was that several were obviously not Dwarves, and he guessed this meant he had arrived at his destination. There were other Elves, Silvan by the looks of them, which made Aduchil relax slightly. His own chances of being accepted onto this expedition stood better if other Elves were there as well. And perhaps they would prove to be of pleasant company, though the Noldo would not take that for granted just yet; among his own people, there could at times be as much distrust as there were between Elves and Dwarves. There seemed to be Men in this company as well, and Aduchil started to realise that the company would be as mixed as could be.

Approaching, Aduchil cleared his throat to make his presence known but otherwise kept quiet as the others approached a Dwarf to discuss signing on to the expedition. As he listened to their conversation, Aduchil glanced down at himself, wondering how he might be judged. His cloak and boots were stained and worn, evident of much travel. Underneath the surcoat, dark in colour as his hair, could be seen chainmail that glistened in the light. Slung across his back was a longbow, with which Aduchil was proficient, though not as much as most of his kinsmen. By his right side hung a quiver of arrows; opposite it was his true skill, the longsword that was tied to his waist. Resting his left hand on the hilt as he waited, he listened further to gain some idea of how the others presented themselves.

When Kh˘rin finished speaking to the Elf Corudir, Aduchil stepped forward a bit to gain the Dwarf's attention. "Greetings," Aduchil said and made a slight bow to the Dwarf behind the desk. "I am Aduchil, a Noldorin Elf who seeks to join your expedition." He was not sure if the word Noldo meant anything to a Dwarf of Erebor; but Aduchil chose to add it just in case, since he imagined it could only create some good will for him. "I am a decent archer, and a swordsman of skill," he continued. Part of him wanted to stress that he considered himself exceptionally good with a blade, but it would only be words and the Dwarf had no reason to be swayed by what would merely sound as bragging. "I can scout, track, and hunt game if supplies are low. In a fight I will hold my end; and having been a soldier for many years, I know how to follow commands," Aduchil said. "I have been tested often enough to keep calm in tense situations, even such as might be encountered at your destination; if you are interested, I will journey with you to Khazad-dűm," the Elf finished, doing his best to pronounce the unfamiliar name correctly. He had a feeling that Dwarves did not appreciate the name of Moria much, and had long ago learned that this was their own name for that great, ancient mansion of the Dwarves.

07/Feb/2012, 08:25 PM
Outside the Library</font></font>Uhoh... follow commands?! Kh˘rin suddenly had brought it home to him what it meant to lead such a mixed company... to lead at all, for that matter. He didn't think he was a natural leader and worried whether he would be capable to lead so many people successfully to Khazad-dűm and back. If you start worrying before things even happen this will go badly, he chided himself. </font></font>He squared his shoulders a little and then looked at the elf, Aduchil. Under the surcoat he could see chainmail glisten - well kept and carefully tended, despite the somewhat bedraggled look of the elf. It made a good impression on Kh˘rin, who, despite not being much of a fighter himself, had enough knowledge gleaned from his cousin Freyr to be able to read a warrior. There was something about the way the elf moved that showed he wore the mail with ease through habit. </font></font>"Master Aduchil, entering Khazad-dűm will be dangerous. Not all of us who go there are skilled warriors, so your sword and bow are heartily welcome." After going into his spiel about the time of departure again he added Aduchil's name to the list. For a moment he wondered what so many elves could tempt to risk entering the lost kingdom, while dwarves seemed to be reluctant to join. </font>

Hallas C. Pehwarin
07/Feb/2012, 08:36 PM
NPC~Celandil son of CelevÝr

Ranger of the North

The seasoned 53-year old ranger now listened to the leader of the expedition; a stout dwarf wearing the typical attire of those who dwelt within the mountain being a combination of boiled leather clothing over which rested fine steel armor with intricate dwarven designs and motifs. The proud dwarf then spoke introducing himself as Kh˘rin </font>Strongart and quickly continued as to the purpose of his expedition to their former realm of Khazad-dűm. '"Master Celandil, I want to
make clear that the first and foremost objective of this expedition is to
secure certain objects we suspect to be in Moria. Wealth is not what we
are seeking, but if we happen to come across it, then we may well take
what's ours. I cannot guarantee you that you will find a worthy
replacement for the gem lost in Moria. If you are nevertheless willing
to join, then I accept your offer."

</font>Celandil nodded his dark ash-blond head in accepting the quest and spoke again to Kh˘rin </font>his deep basso voice calm, collected and curterous, " I do indeed accept this just cause to help you and your kin recover some small part of the lost wealth that still resides within the empty halls and mines of Khazad-dűm." " I also accept the fact that our quest might not find a worthy replacement for my families ancient gem being the fabled black pearl." " Since upon it rested the key emblem that linked the Realms in Exile together as one; being the White Tree." " That is Nimloth the Fair whose seed still exists to this day being in the Southern Kingdom of Gondor in the Court of the Kings before the White Tower of Ecthelion and the Citadel Hall." "Any jewel that you or your fellow kin deem a fine, fitting, replacement for that fabled black pearl I'll accept and graciously hand over my families fine sword to reforge the old mount anew set within the replacement gem after its had again that specific sigil embossed or even inlaid into the the fine gem." Then did the proud valiant ranger resheath his families ancient longsword back into the wooden scabbard wrapped in dark green leather that crisscrossed down its length that was girthed to his grey leather belt upon the left side.</span></span>

The seasoned northern d</font>˙nedain raised his weathered face upward to see three more travelers arrive for the expedition being one of the fabled Istari; the order of Wizards and two Elves! "Good fortune may indeed be with us now that we have these three along for the journey." thought Celandil as continued to gaze at the trio of travelers with his steel-grey colored eyes. For his eyes seemed in the light of the nearby candelabra seemed to be bright and keen as the middle aged ranger listened to all three introduce themselves. Corudir who hailed from the Woodland realm of King Thranduil offering to be their guide should their band need to traverse the great shadowed forest of Mirkwood once known in more gentler times as Greenwood the Great, the other elf gave his name as Maedgam</font> whom proceeded to juggle colored balls for the amusement of all, and finally the Istari gave his name as Pallador.

The tall and lean ranger nodded his shaggy dark ash-blond head in way of greeting allowing Kh˘rin </font> to speak and accept all into his growing company. Then did the stout stern dwarf speak to all,"Three days from hence on the morrow we will meet at the inn 'Bard's Victory'. Till then I bid you fare well."</font> </font>At that the middle aged ranger</font> again gave a nod to those assembled the departed the small meeting hall walking with purposeful stride out to the Main Gate where he collected his rough looking greyed haired horse Varniher(Duncan)
mounted him settling into the saddle and began to make his way back toward the city of Dale and the inn called the Bard's Victory.

'Obviously named such in relation since the proud North Man achieved fame by slaying that wicked and dreaded dragon Smaug with the black arrow that had indeed come from one of the many forges that are now again producing fine works wither armor, weapons, or precious items of great value.' thought Celandil as he continued to ride upon Varniher who nickered and snorted continuing to trot along the stony path that lead from Erebor toward Dale. So did the 53-year old ranger speak aloud to himself and to his steed who was indeed listening to his masters words, 'Well let's see if I can get a room there and stall within one of the nearby stables for you eh Varn so that you can prepare for the long journey?" The rough grey haired horse neighed and increased his pace along the stone path to that a of graceful canter allowing Celandil to smile and feel the mid-morning wind blow across his weathered face with its hawkish like profile and through his long shoulder length dark ash-blond hair as they continued toward the rebuilt town that could be seen by him for some of the d˙nedain had keen eyesight including their noble Chieftain Aragorn/ Strider.

OOC:Pallador, Dincairwin, and Baingil I meet at the inn called Bard's Victory and introduce myself there properly with the 1st round of drinks on me!smileys/smiley4.gifsmileys/smiley11.gif

BaingÝl RandÝr
08/Feb/2012, 09:16 AM
Maedgam the Juggler</font>

</font>Maedgamresponded with a bold smile when the dwarf offered him a polite one and jotted his name down. "I am not an elf of Mirkwood myself, but I have traveled that road many a time and know it well, with its peculiarities and dangers,"Maedgamresponded. "As I have traveled many a road. I've faced many an odd creature, too. I may be of assistance."</font>
</font>Another elf (Corudir) entered then, sneering in Maedgam'sdirection. "Why so glum, friend?"Maedgamcalled to him, though he didn't expect an answer. If this elf gave him any particular amount of trouble, it was likely to be cured once he saw Maedgamjuggling knives. That seemed to cure a great many folk's disdain, in fact. Something about the sure hands that so recklessly slung about sharp blades, always with the greatest accuracy; in fact, Maedgamwas particularly good at throwing knives, and carried a number of these concealed on his body for the purpose of either entertainment or for self-defense. He disliked revealing them at once, though.</font>
</font>Maedgamturned and made his way out of the hallway, back through the twisting caves and out into the sunlight. A ranger - one he had seen inside the caverns signing up for the expedition (Celandil) - was riding off on a grey horse. Maedgambegan to whistle as he walked down the long, winding path that descended the mountain, soon taking out the three balls again and juggling them to the tune that he whistled.</font>
</font>Off on an adventure - the elf grinned - he was always looking for adventure. Nothing better to do, after all. A little juggling to pick up money for necessities, a little woodcraft and fighting skill, and he was quite well set up, with plenty of leisure to go where he pleased. In his long elf's life it was quite easy to get bored. Hence, he appreciated any unusual opportunity of this sort that presented itself.</font>
</font>He tossed the balls into the air and twirled all the way around before he caught them and continued walking down the mountain.</font>

08/Feb/2012, 09:19 PM
Outside the Library

The Dwarf was both polite and welcoming, and Aduchil gave a slight bow to Kh˘rin. "I thank you for the opportunity," Aduchil replied as Kh˘rin agreed to let him join the expedition. Some might have felt that Aduchil should not be thankful for such an opportunity, but rather depart hastily; as far as Aduchil knew, none had ever entered Khazad-dűm and returned again except for the goblinkind that dwelt in its halls. The Elf was accepted into the expedition because every blade would count at some point, which he was well aware of. Nonetheless, he was relieved that Kh˘rin did not harbour any sentiments against Elves and Aduchil would make certain the Dwarf would not regret it either. Aduchil had wandered alone for many months, but now he would be part of a larger group venturing to a perilous place; his actions would have impact on others beside himself, and Aduchil knew the responsibility involved. Should something go wrong, it would not be on his part, Aduchil thought as he said farewell and turned around to leave. And something was almost bound to go wrong, a treacherous voice whispered along with a fading echo of the name Moria. However, it would be worth it, whispered another, equally treacherous voice.

Thankfully the way out was a lot easier to find than the way in; maybe to encourage visitors to leave rather than linger. Pulling his blue cloak around him, Aduchil braved the wind outside as he turned towards Dale. He still had some coin left that he presumed would be tender in the city. Although he would imagine the expedition would have supplies of some sort, he was not certain how much he could expect. He had a feeling that this seemed to be simple a journey towards Moria with people joining the group if they so desired. At any rate, the Elf would feel most at ease if he knew he had his own provisions and supplies to rely on. Food and water should not be too scarce, at least for his own need; he did not intend to bring a riding animal which would make that easy. He still had a quiver mostly full of arrows. His boats were worn and in a sad state; perhaps a cobbler in town would be a prudent visit to make. And the clasp on his cloak, Aduchil realised as he pulled the fabric tighter around him to shield against the wind.

On the road, Aduchil had occasion to meet both Dwarves and Men. The Dwarves usually merely walked on, barely recognising him; he had a feeling that was simply their habit though, rather than any actual enmity. The Men were usually more interested; they knew enough to recognise him as an Elf, but were not so used to the sight that it attracted no attention. Many of them shouted various Elven phrases at him, which made Aduchil smile slightly and return the greeting. Some children ran towards him but then stopped timidly, and his good sense of hearing allowed him to pick up on the fact that the children wanted to touch his ears to find out how pointed they were. Winking at them as he passed them, they continued to stare for long as he passed down the road, spellbound until he disappeared around a bend in the road. Ahead of him, in the distance, he saw the walls and spikes of Dale rise. It was not exactly a city like the N˙menoreans had built them; but as he approached it, Aduchil found that he appreciated the simple architecture. It fitted the simple people who dwelt there, decent in nature and with good hearts. Although he had not had much interest in seeing Dale before he came on this journey, Aduchil was glad that his path had led him here. It comforted him to know there were still such sights to experience in the world.

Edited by: Aduchil

08/Feb/2012, 09:56 PM
OCC @ Pehwarin

08/Feb/2012, 10:00 PM
Outside the Library

Walking toward the library, Kori, stuffed the last bit of the current version of Beleghost Brownies he posessed into his mouth. They were pretty tasty to him, though he had heard that if the true recipe could be rediscovered this current incarnation couldn't come close.

The dwarf wore his traveling cloak and carried his pack with the usual supplies. He was always ready to travel, and always ready to collect new things. His axe of course was with him, but not much else in the way of wargear since he didn't usually want heavy armor and such to weigh him down on his travels.

Just as he swallowed the last bite of brownie, Kori approached Khorin.

Greetings again, friend. It appears that Anno has gone silent, though i did promise to help him if ever he looks for lost lore stolen by the imps of Khazad-Dum. I hear that is where you and some brave folks have decided to head, and I have come to join you."

09/Feb/2012, 07:02 AM
Outside the Library</font></font>Kh˘rin looked up to find a dwarf in front of his desk. He remembered seeing him in the Mex kitchen, daring Anno for a few brownies. He smiled involuntarily - there were precious few of their own interested in going to Khazad-dűm - which did not bode well should Dain eventually decide to try and regain the old Mansion. Kori was still stewing and a tiny crumb on the corner of his mouth looked like a bit of Belegost Brownie. Another lover of the delicacy. That might explain his willingness to venture to Moria - Kh˘rin silently used the name while thinking of the cursed and despoiled home - Khazad-dűm was the name he prefered when thinking of happier times. </font></font>"Well Kori - I am glad you keep to your promise, even though Anno is temporarily indisposed. There is nothings as precious as knowledge - even if it is 'only' a lost receipe." He winked at Kori - when it came to eating good food was to be treasured beyond any gold or jewels - Kh˘rin had had to live on poor fare for too long not to appreciate his food. He pointed to the bundle on Kori's back.</font></font>"We aren't quite ready yet, though. We will set out on the morrow of the third day. But you don't need to carry your pack. A pony will take your load."</font>

09/Feb/2012, 07:59 PM
Outside the Library

Pen had seen the first poster in Dale. He knew this adventure was made for one just like himself. He loved treasure and he had weapons and he knew how to use them. Why he could even say he was the perfect candidate. Hopefully that little incident with the misguided flaming arrows setting King Brand's horse stables alight wouldn't be mentioned he thought to himself as he excitedly walked the well-worn path toward the entrance to the Lonely Mountain. He was so encouraged by this expedition (and thinking he was perfect for it) that he was actually whistling. Yes, whistling. Not a usual sound from a Lone Lands Low Life, but Pen couldn't help it. He felt like a boiling teapot, that he just might explode from excitement if he didn't let out a little steam.

It was the haunting tune of The Dwarves Go Marching</font></font> that was escaping from Pen's lips as he neared the group loitering outside the library. Ah, lay-abouts and ne'er-do-wells, my kind of people! thought Pen as he spotted an impatient/important/im-whatever looking dwarf sitting behind the table. Pen let out a final rousing marching down to the ground to get out of the rain, boom, boom, boom </font>when he finally spoke to Khorin. "My good dwarf, my name is Pendragonay, though most call me Pen. I would like to join your adventure under ground. I am equipped with 2 bows, arrows, knives, ropes of many sizes, a short sword - long swords just seem to get in the way don't you think? - and lots of other things in my pockets and packs that may or may not come in handy. You just never know when you're down under ground right? When do we leave? I have to go to the bathroom."</font>

10/Feb/2012, 07:03 PM
Outside the Library</font></font>Merry singing echoed through the hall outside the library. Kh˘rin raised an eyebrow. Another happy soul, as it seemed. The man, who finally made his way to the desk, however, had the bad sense to adress Kh˘rin as 'my good dwarf':</font>Immediately the dwarf bristled mentally. He had had enough of humans looking down at him and even an imagined slight caused him to feel offended. He knew he was far too thin-skinned in that respect but he couldn't help himself. </font></font>It was therefore with less than favourite eyes that he looked at the human. He felt the other was less than trustworthy - possibly because no honest soul carried as much equippement with him as Pendragonay did. Nevertheless - the expedition was in need of good swords, since Kh˘rin himself was anything but an avid fighter. He was by no means a coward but weapons - just didn't feel comfortable to his hands. And then - if Kh˘rin's suspicion was correct and Pen was rather nimbler with his fingers than an honest man would be - entering Moria might require just a man of such talents. </font></font>Kh˘rin decided to accept Pendragonay into the company but vowed by himself to keep an eye on him.</font></font>"Master Pendragonay - we might need a man of your talents later on, so welcome to the expedition." </font></font>Kh˘rin carefully penned down the name. He looked at the list. A mottley crew he got there. He rolled the parchment together and got up. It was time to see to his own preparations. He would leave a note to any latecomer.</font></font>Applicants are requested to head do Dale and meet Kh˘rin Strongart at the </font>'Bard's Victory'</font> (http://www.lotrplaza.com/forum/forum_posts.asp?TID=243391&amp;PID=7468324#7468324) </font>no later than day after tomorrow at dawn"</font>

Edited by: Kh˘rinStrongart

12/Feb/2012, 02:10 AM
Once Soleil emerged from the Mex kitchens and found herself in the hub of hallways branching out everywhere, she halted nervously. For the first time in a long time, she was once again aware of the long scar marring her face. Drawing her hood over her bright gold hair, she tried to walk as nonchalantly as possible to wherever she was going. For some time, she tried to look as if she knew where she was going while observing everything she could to give her clues. At last she was forced to ask directions, from another dwarf who barely glanced at her as he hurried home, smelling of the mines, no doubt to his dinner and drink. Nearing the library, she saw with keen disappointment that no one was there, and the door was closed.

At the Library

However, there was a piece of parchment, with handwriting that could only have been gone by a Kagam clan member. She knew that precise calligraphy, easily read by anyone, even someone with poor learning. Tears of remembrance came to her eyes as she stared at it. "Go to Dale. Meet Khorin Strongart."</font>

Well, she would do that. In the morning, after gathering supplies. But how to do that? Bewildered, Soleil stared about her. Too used to being outside and completely on her own, she didn't even know where to sleep, where to find food or supplies. Surely some of it could be got in the kitchens, though. She didn't even know where Anduriel </font>was! Great</font>, she thought sourly to herself as evening fell over the dwarves and their mountain. It didn't feel like hers. Some beginning I've made! </font>