Prelude: The Gathering of Five Armies

[Vardaen]

Gram brings out a round of drinks along with a bowl of stew (or more) handing them around the table and collecting a few coins from Borir. Gram nods politely but doesn't intrude on the conversation.

Back at the bar he comments to the elves, "We have some fine Dorwinion wine, arrived for the festival tomorrow, if you prefer it over the ale." He waits for a reply and and helps his customers as they want.

[Trogdor]

"You're quite welcome," Pipkin replies, sending a large smoke ring floating toward the ceiling where it slowly dissipates. "I haven't seen many around here who appreciate pipeweed, save for a few dwarves up at the Lonely Mountain. They were introduced to it by another hobbit that came here a few years back - the one from all the stories about Smaug and the Battle of the Five Armies."

"Still," he says between puffs on his pipe, "that's good news for us. The Lonely Mountain means money; and money means they can get what they want, including pipeweed. There's a fellow in Laketown I know that gets a shipment in every now and again to sell to the dwarves. That's how I keep in stock."

Then Gram arrives with his order, and a smile crosses the hobbit's face. "Food, friends, ale, and a smoke," he says. "Why, if the furniture were of a proper size, I'd almost think I was back in the Shire."

[Muskrat]

Varuthil spares a smile for Gram and says, "Yes, I would like some wine, thank you. The ale is fine as far as it goes, but wine is more to my taste."

Turning her attention back to Wren, Varuthil says, "Yes, it is mistake to judge by outward appearances. It is said that in ancient days, the Enemy could appear in a most fair form." She shrugs. "I have been myself--studying mostly, traveling some, trying to find out about the Enemy's presence in Mirkwood and further abroad, so that we might defend ourselves against his machinations. I came here with my foster father, who is part of King Thranduil's delegation to the celebration. But it seemed no one would miss my company if I absented myself, since I am not overly known for merry-making, and so I decided to wander the city and see what strange folk I might run into. Though a friendly, familiar face is welcome as well."

"And what brings you to the city of Dale? The celebration or do you have other business here as well?"

[TetNak]

"Trade is a good thing," Aerth agrees, "If for nothing else than hobbit pipeweed." He takes a puff of Old Toby as he thinks about that. The man seems pleased with the hobbit and his weed, at the very least.

[Eilandor]

Wren takes another swig of ale from his pint, "Both actually, Varuthil. I'm a bit of a woodwright in my spare time which I seem to have a bit more of lately now that the Lake-town rebuilding effort has completed. I came here to inquire about selling some of my own efforts here as well as check out the celebration." Wren pauses for moment and takes a bit of the stew that was brought out. "So tell me, have you had any luck regarding the presence in Mirkwood?"

[Shurijo]

Borir stares at the stranger and contemplates a question, but seeming holds off on asking it. Instead, he brings the subject back around to the festivities.

"So Aerth of nowhere," the dwarf chides the man since he only gave his name and no further information about his home. "I haven't seen you in town before. Did you come for the toys and fireworks, or are you traveling through to other parts?"

[Trogdor]

"Would that they could import some hobbit cooking!" Pipkin says, having set aside his pipe for a moment to try the stew. "Have they not heard of rosemary in this establishment? Are they ignorant of the uses of paprika and thyme? Have they no bay leaves in their kitchen?" The hobbit sighs. "Why do so many people here in the east think that adding a little salt and pepper is 'spicing' a dish?" He shakes his head.

"Still, at least the carrots and potatoes have been cooked long enough. And they've allowed the stew to thicken quite nicely." He reaches into a pouch at his belt and takes out a small leather bag. From it, he pours a bit of finely-chopped leaves and ground seeds. Smiling, he puts the bag away and stirs his stew. "It's better if they're cooked in. But this will work in a pinch." Then he digs into the meal with gusto.

[TetNak]

Aerth looks over at the dwarf, "Nowhere is correct, I would say. I travel the Wilderlands, from town to town, and try to keep people safe." He shrugs, "As for coming here, I do come here every few months for supplies, but when I heard of the festival it seemed like a good time to come and stock up."

[Shurijo]

Borir is a bit more interested in Aerth's words now that he's said something of substance. "Keeping people safe from what? You're just one man."

The dwarf turns to take a sip and then grins as he continues, "Granted, pulling down that hood and showing your face could scare a bandit or two - almost scared myself out of my seat - if I weren't Durin's Folk that is. Nothing scares a Longbeard."

With a bit of a chuckle, the dwarf finally gets his composure back and asks, "What tales have you for me and my hobbit-friend about protecting the people?"

[TetNak]

"Nothing scares a Longbeard, do they?" Aerth considers, "Would you care to have a swimming contest? There is a lake nearby, after all."

Aerth puffs his pipe, looking from hobbit to dwarf, "I try. Most of it is delivering supplies or teaching people how to make and use a bow." Aerth watches Pipkin eat hungrily, Aerth hasn't eaten like that, ever, he does not think.

"There are the occasional goblin here and there. I am sorry it isn't a story of how I defeated a dragon."