Book 2: Chapter 1 - The Hills of Dunland
- Vardaen
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Aghan-buri-Mughan, the Chieftain of the Dreudain
Airic grabs Dubthach by the forearm, he pulls the Dunlending down and whispers in his ear struggling to speak.
"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
J.R.R. Tolkien, Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring
- Boronind
- Level 4
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Aghan-buri-Mughan, the Chieftain of the Dreudain
Blain coordinates the dwarves in preparing for the descent. When they are ready he waits patiently for the rest who are coming, inhaling and exhaling deeply on his pipe as if it will be either the last or long time before he enjoys the sweet taste and aroma again.
- Blubbo_Baggins
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Aghan-buri-Mughan, the Chieftain of the Dreudain
Telurin checks that they have provisons, a little rope, and light. Them he stands and waits for the others to finish.
- Vardaen
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Another Joins the Canversation
You are ready, prepared, it seems all of the dwarves will go within, none have come this far just to back out now. Yet you can see that Vara doesn't really want to. He clears his throat, "Should we really leave Airic out here all alone? What of our gear, and... " he speaks Kuzdal to the other dwarves, "...what of opening the door for you. I don't fully trust these Pukle-Men."
That's where there is noise from the stairs that lead down to the valley below. A shout, then a bird's call, and the Chieftain turns from you and walks to the edge and looks down. He stands gazing down a while, and one by some of you gaze down as well.
There climbing back up the stairs is Sits with Fist, and a woman... a Dunlending woman by the look of her.
That's where there is noise from the stairs that lead down to the valley below. A shout, then a bird's call, and the Chieftain turns from you and walks to the edge and looks down. He stands gazing down a while, and one by some of you gaze down as well.
There climbing back up the stairs is Sits with Fist, and a woman... a Dunlending woman by the look of her.
"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
J.R.R. Tolkien, Council of Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring
- HunterGreen
- Level 2
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Dŵrgi's arrival
When Sits With Fist mounts the stairs the woman who walks beside and behind is overlooked at first, as she is short, slim, wiry. In fact, her spear is seen before she is. Obviously Dunlending, with her hair in braids and her armor in browns painted with hunter green spirals, she would be plain were it not for the badly broken, badly mended nose, unpleasant to the eye. At her best she might be unassuming and forgettable, but she is not at her best; clearly her way here was not untroubled.
She steps in front of Sits with Fist and takes in the others, clutching a piece of parchment in one hand. "I am bid by Saruman the White to join you," she says. Her Westron has a deliberate crispness about it, as if the language were recently learned, or at least recently polished, and her voice is low and gravelly, surprising for one so small. "And to deliver this letter which was given to me by Aravule." The name is clumsy on her tongue, nearer to how a Dunlending name of that spelling would sound, the vowels strange. She holds out the letter, not to anyone specific, though with her words done her eyes sweep the company and settle on Dubhthach, the nearest thing she has to a kinsman here. He might recognize the patterns on her leathers as belonging to a small tribe from the northwest, the Afon-llwyth, if he's traveled that far.
She steps in front of Sits with Fist and takes in the others, clutching a piece of parchment in one hand. "I am bid by Saruman the White to join you," she says. Her Westron has a deliberate crispness about it, as if the language were recently learned, or at least recently polished, and her voice is low and gravelly, surprising for one so small. "And to deliver this letter which was given to me by Aravule." The name is clumsy on her tongue, nearer to how a Dunlending name of that spelling would sound, the vowels strange. She holds out the letter, not to anyone specific, though with her words done her eyes sweep the company and settle on Dubhthach, the nearest thing she has to a kinsman here. He might recognize the patterns on her leathers as belonging to a small tribe from the northwest, the Afon-llwyth, if he's traveled that far.
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- Muskrat
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Dŵrgi's arrival
Halleth approaches her and says, "I am Halleth, some of Hallec. Aravule is my liege--I will take the letter." He does so, then nods at her and adds, "Thank you for delivering it." He takes her measure as a warrior and says, "While it's up to the dwarves whether you come with us, you look like a fine warrior and I would welcome you as a companion." He then turns away from the others and opens Aravule's letter.
- HunterGreen
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Dŵrgi's arrival
Dŵrgi immediately bristles; it's clear there's an anger in her that lies not deep below the surface. "If they possess wisdom, the corrach would think it up to Saruman," she growls, then immediately collects herself and manages a clumsy bow. "Halleth son of Hallec, I am Dŵrgi of the Afon-llwyth, and now of Isengard."
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- Seosaidh
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Dŵrgi's arrival
Dubhthach looks mildly amused at Dwrgi's anger. While he has never personally been to the territory of the Afon-llyth, he has heard of them from their neighbors to the south. He responds to her greeting, using the Westrong tongue, "Dwrgi of the Afon-llyth, I am Dubhthach of Isengard, originally of the Gaesela."
Continuing in Dunlending, "You will have to forgive these people. They are independent and do not always listen to those wiser than themselves. Tell me, how fares our master?"
Continuing in Dunlending, "You will have to forgive these people. They are independent and do not always listen to those wiser than themselves. Tell me, how fares our master?"
“Do not despise the lore that has come down from distant years; for oft it may chance that old wives keep in memory word of things that once were needful for the wise to know.” ~ Celeborn, The Fellowship of the Ring
- HunterGreen
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Dŵrgi's arrival
Dunlending:
As she speaks the Dunlending language, whatever spark of anger had risen in Dŵrgi a moment earlier is entirely gone. Her toothy grin, however, possesses its own menace.
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- Wbweather
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Dŵrgi's arrival
Hartley strides up to the Dunlending woman and bows deeply before her. "Welcome miss Dŵrgi. Harley Sandheaver of Bree, at your service. It seems you've made it just in time for our little adventure into the mountain to face unknown evil. I'm not certain if that is good luck for us or bad luck for you, probably a bit of both. You've seen Master Aravule recently? How is he?"