Ash nazg durbatulak, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulak, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul.Here in lie the tales of Tolkien's Middle-earth as told by a very different set of storytellers, you.Run by the Narrator Vardaen Caraug, the Grey Boar of Orthanc
The food is delightful, Faladril's coaxing of their true flavors makes any meal that much better. Even the dwarf has to admit the ale tastes sharper.
***
Faladril's point is made, the Iontis are trouble, trouble for anyone who enjoys the peace of King Elessar. Not to mention the other dwarves out on the edge of town, and perhaps themselves in danger or in battle. The trio moves out of the tower into the courtyard, where woman and children are streaming into it from the single gate in the palisade. Draig has climbed up a ladder on the palisade wall to stand on a small platform at the gate's side. He is shouting at Druce, and pointing to the north (away from the dwarven camp; who are on the south side of the hill). Draig leaps from the platform and heads out through the gate with a few other armed Dunlendings, all of them with spears or slings. Of those coming into the courtyard, some are carrying baby lambs, others are herding in full grown, unsheered sheep. The baying of more echoes from the north.
You were not disarmed. So you may have anything you wish to have.
"He that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom." - Gandalf
J.R.R. Tolkien, Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring
The Ranger frowns, "We should at least wait to see what the Dunlendings do." He looks to both the elf and dwarf, "Our camp does not look to be in danger." Hwindsul pauses, "If I had to guess, I would say Draig will attempt to thwart this thievery."
"Kings have no friends, only subjects and enemies."
Borir sits the base of his axe on the ground and wipes some food from his beard with his other hand. 'œBurrrpp. Ahh, that was good ale and food.' The dwarf doesn't seem to be much for manners even around company.
'œIf they lay a hand on me brothers, then they'll be paying.' He states when they mention the others stationed outside of town in the campsite.
"We should remain alert ourselves," Faladril offers. "And certainly pass word to the rest of our camp for them to remain ready for trouble as well. It wouldn't do for them to be surprised."
"As you say," the elf nods at Hwindsul, "we should let the locals handle the trouble if they can. To do otherwise would imply that we don't think them capable. It may just turn out to be a small raiding party" He pauses and looks in the direction Draig departed in. "But we should also let them know that we're ready to help should this prove to be a greater threat to their home."
"There's always a way," Faladril says, drawing an arrow from his quiver. "It may not be the most desirable method." He tears a small colored piece of cloth from his tunic and wraps it around the arrow. "But it should at least get their attention and let them know there's something funny going on." He draws the arrow and releases it, angling it near the camp, but so that it will fall away from it. "They may not know the exact danger, but they'll be alert."
'œYe, better not hit one of me brudders in the head with that.' Borir injects just as the elf fires the arrow. The dwarf takes another bite from another piece of meat that he seems to have an unending supply of food stashed throughout his belongings.
'œReckon, it'll take'm long?' And then decides it's better if they take a while, 'œBawh, Longer they take, the more ale for me.'
Faladril rips his garmets, he will probably want to get himself a new one now. However he will never find anything so nice here in Dunland. He ties it to an arrow and launches it south over the village and down at the dwarven camp. There is no way to know the reaction of the dwarves there.
More important however, the shouts of men begin to be heard in the north side of the village. There is then a woman's scream, a child's scream and then the clash of warriors. From inside the palisades you can see nothing. A few of the woman gathered are staring at you, a few pointing at the various weapons on you. Faceless voicees from the crowd, can be heard shouting:
"<Dunael> What at they doing?"
"<Dunael> We don't need them. Who cares about them?"
"<Dunael> I bet they were just here to distract Draig!"
"<Dunael> Spys?! Spys!"
The crowd of women is begining to grow louder and angry, as the noise of crashing spears and swords gets more intense to the north.
"He that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom." - Gandalf
J.R.R. Tolkien, Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring
Hwindsul understands the suspecious nature of these people. "Let us not tarry here without Draig. He seems a fair minded man, these people do not. I would hate to cause a riot."
The ranger waves the two others along, "Come, let us approach the battle and see what is occurring." Hwindsul then begins to make his way to the field in question.
"Kings have no friends, only subjects and enemies."
Borir nods, 'œI don't like the looks of them.' He comments at the growing crowd of townsfolk as heads out to follow Hwindsul. He takes yet another bit of food and picks up his axe to head to the field of battle.
