Book 2: Chapter 1 - The Hills of Dunland

[Boronind]

Bláin turns to Vara and each look at each in deep disbelief at what the the rather insulting manner in which they have both been spoken to. Bláin says something in Khudzul to Vara, shaking his head the entire time. After the brief exchange, neither Bláin nor Vara respond to Aravule but walk quietly through the village.

[Muskrat]

Halleth keeps close to Aravule, intending to protect his liege in the event of an unexpected attack. He looks around with a mixture of suspicion and genuine curiosity, interested to see what life was like among these people. They had a reputation as savages, but he supposed that at least meant they were not soft like the folk of the Shire, Breeland and Rivendell. He smiles at Aravule's uncharacteristic statement to the others' to keep civil tongues. He hopes it means his liege is beginning to recover from the shadow that has hung over him since his near death at Carn Dum.

[Vardaen]

Aravule reminds the fellowship to watch their tongues here and not to offend the Dunlendings. It shows the seriousness of the situation that Aravule, who has proven himself more bold than some would like when in Tharbad, comments as such here.

As expected as you march toward one of the larger buildings that folks take notice of you, and it isn't long before you are directly approached by several Dunlending men. These men are clad in warrior garb for their people, simple leather garments, but each bears a spear, a short hunting bow, or a simple hand ax, a few have wooden bucklers in hand. They gaze over your company, eyes on the large number of dwarves, and the pony and cart full of goods. Before any of the men can say anything there is a elderly woman's voice that calls out from the door way of the nearby building, her Westeron is very good, better than you would expect here. "Long has it been since we have seen so many of the dwarves come to trade with us in Tunum. You have a look about you of mixed company, traders and warriors of the road. Welcome are all good hearted people in our town, save for the Forgoil of the east. Who among you speaks for your little... fellowship? Come here so I can look at you, my eyes are not as good as they once were in my youth."

The old woman

[TetNak]

"I speak for us," Aravule announces and steps forth, "I thank you for your welcome. I am called Aravule." He nods his head giving no title or epithet to himself.

The tall man looks down at the woman, allowing her to look him in the eyes. He says nothing about the Rohirrim or the clear hate the Dunlendings have for them. They had a diverse group of peoples, and although he respected what the Dunlendings call Forgoil, he was happy they did not have one among their party today.

"We are pleased to trade where it benefits all of us, but we are on our way south. Today we are looking for lodging for our weary feet and a meal."

[Vardaen]

The old woman pushes her way through the warriors, and they part for her showing her great respect. "Well Aravule, I am Leuwen, mother of the Chieftain of Tunum, and I can see too it that you get some rest and a hot meal. We have a small feast hall you and your company may use, and widows plenty enough to fix you meals. For the right trade of course. We aren't in the habit of giving our things away to strangers we just met. Still, we welcome you here, you and your dwarven friends." She pays little mind to Hartley thinking him a child, and Telurin's hood still hides him enough that he passes for a Man.

"Why don't you take your things over there..." her crooked and wrinkled finger points at the other larger building in town. "You can set up there. I can join you in a bit." She pats one of the men on the side, "Cledwyn, help our guests get settled in." She grabs at her back, and comments to another of the men, "Glynn, go fetch the widow Eira and send her to me."

Both men nod and smile to the old woman and go about their tasks at hand without complaint.

[Blubbo_Baggins]

Telurin asks the woman before she leaves, "Is it custom for Chief Nertun to meet outsiders? I do not know if he would be kind enough to give us a brief audience, but we would be glad to meet him."

"Excuse me," he adds. "My name is Telurin."

[Wbweather]

Hartley bows deep before Leuwen. "May I thank you as well for your welcome my lady. I am Hartley, a hobbit, er halfling, from the town of Bree far north of here. Though my size might argue differently, I am far passed my childhood, being 45 years old, if my reckoning is accurate."

[Vardaen]

The old woman smiles back at Telurin, "He will most certainly wish to meet with you, when he returns." She leans on her walking crook, "My son is away right now, but if you are in town long enough he will return and you get your meeting. In the mean time, you will have to deal with this old woman." She inhales sharply, "Now then young man, don't make me stand here any longer than my old bones can handle."

Her eyes turn on Hartley, "One of the Stoors of old? I thought you people were stories and tales told to children to delight." She hobbles forward up to the hobbit and leans down, pitches Hartley on the cheek and pokes him in the belly a few times, "Here I thought you were a beardless dwarf child."

[Wbweather]

"Only a child at heart madame." Hartley submits to the poking and pinching good-naturedly.

OOC

I would like to try an insight test to see if something is up here, with this woman, but my insight isn't all that great. Hartley must bee too trusting. Still though, might as well give it a go, unless someone else would like to .

[Wbweather]

Hartley watches Leuwen closely for a while. She seems to be honest and well respected by the people of the community. Perhaps he has been around too many untrustworthy folk as of late. No, he is convinced that she is a woman that can be trusted. He smiles broadly and begins to gather up his gear.