Practice LotR RP

[Bessain]

((Anyone can hop in. Just trying to help along any and all in training.))

Rubble rubbed eagerly at his chin one afternoon, as he stared at his reflection from a wash basin. His beard was coming in thicker lately, though he had not yet been blessed with length. The fact that he would be able to put the top notch in a single braid pretty soon had the adolescent dwarf grinning ear to ear. His uncle, Dagoron by name, had teased him ruthelessly about his hairless face for seasons now; and it was finally fixing itself! Rubble admired his face for a few moments longer before a knock at the door drew his attention.

"Oi! Y'ready in there?" Complained Cobble, Rubble's best friend and partner in his first day on guard duty.

"I'm comin'!" Rubble shouted back.

He quickly grabbed his things, choosing to don his armor on the run down to the mines. The two boys had been choosen for apprentice work in the blasting zones. The newly claimed dwarven territory in Erebor was still suffering daily gobblin advances, so guards were posted around every working soul as a precaution. Having finally seen three decades safely by, it was time for Rubble's education.

The young dwarves' excitement only escalated while sliding around corners and hopping down flights of stairs racing to what they were certain to be an adventure in a beginning chapter of dwarven life. Such were the hopes of the naive.

[labomba]

Dorof was tired. He'd been fighting with his brothers for over a hundred years and was growing old. The Battle of Five Armies was only the last in a long history of battles he had fought in. He'd killed Orcs, Goblins and even dark creatures that knew no name. He'd survived each of these, but grew older each time.

“I getting' to ol' for this stuff,” he muttered.

He knew that he would one day pass his axe to the next generation, leaving the protection of his clan to younger souls. Life had grown harsh since the battle. He had been living in the Iron Hills with Dain II until the call came to assemble and march quickly to assist his cousin Thorin in defending Erebor. He had received a few new scars but survived the ordeal. Along with others from his clan, he offered to stay and help defend the mountain until it's defences could be re-established and rebuilt. As it turns out he and his brothers were needed.

For weeks he'd been defending miners from Goblin scouts through small skirmishes and failed surprise attacks, and he knew nothing would be changing for the foreseeable future. Today he was to get new recruits, youngsters with more youth and energy than Dorof could remember having.

“It be a long day 'lredy n' it ain't even be startin' yet.”

[Bessain]

Rubble was to meet the old quartermaster Dorof at the southern end of the blasting zone. He had seen the senior dwarf on a few occasions but had never exchanged pleasantries. It was fairly easy to pick him out of a crowd because of it.

The two young dwarves skidded to a stop in front of their commanding officer, offering a clumsy salute. Dorof simply nodded and started to brief the two on the current situation. Unfortunately for the old dwarf, the three had decided to meet in the middle of the busy day. The noise was absolutely appalling. He had to yell to make himself heard through the echoing blasts, and even then he wasn't always made out.

"WHAT?" Rubble yelled back, trying to do as he was asked... that is, if he was even being asked to do anything.

[labomba]

Dorof was already chafed by the young dwarves and their inability to listen. He hadn't realised that months in the mines had grown him numb to the loud noises that occurred there every day.

He yelled again, "Where be your axe, boy?" He handed the taller one a spare weapon from a nearby rack, blood covered it's blade and it was notched from numerous battles.

"This was Kirroh's, you be his replacement." Dorof thought he heard the obvious question asked behind him but choose to ignore it. "Come on, I show yee the lower shafts before mid day meal gets here."

[Bessain]

Rubble decided that in the first couple minutes of meeting the old dwarf, that Dorof was boring. When were they gonna get to work? The little dwarf hadn't run all the way down here to be lectured! He was pleased with the gift of the axe, and was quite certain that Dorof was just trying to scare him with his tales of Kirroh. He followed, despite his mood, and walked down deeper into the mine.

Only half an hour into work, and Rubble's ears were already starting to ring from the mining blasts. He coughed soot and found a suitable draft of air was hard to come by.

Dorof made things worse by running security drills for the boys to remember. They were constantly on their feet, moving back and forth into formations that seemed impossible to commit to memory. When the old dwarf finally let up, he sent the boys on patrols with more experienced gaurds.

Rubble's spirits sank the longer he walked on. He didn't have the stamina for these long hours and felt as if he could sleep standing still.

Midday meal, though primarily meat according to custom, came in smaller porportions than the boys were used to at the academy. The theory was that a fullbellied soldier was not as alert.

That was the last straw for the short bearded dwarf. He marched up to Dorof to demand an audience.

"When do we get ter work! Walkin' aint workin'!" He growled at his senior.

[labomba]

Dorof was laughing on the inside. When these two young dwarves ran up in absolute excitement he had leaned over to a friend and remarked, "Bet ye four pieces they don't last a day."

Dorof now had four gold coins to collect.

Rubble went off for at least five minutes before Dorof even bothered to start listening. Many a dwarf had come through here before, and many had thought they had the "right" or "privilege" to better treatment. After experimenting with so many before, Dorof now had a favourite response to such situations.

"Then leave, Boy!" he exclaimed. Dorof gestured to his colleague who now owed him enough gold for a good night's drinkin', "you think we had some school we attended'? We be bred for fightin' and born for it too! If these be your worries, then you best be leavin' now back to school where ye belong!"

By now most of the immediate area had grown silent. Blasting could be heard in the distance, but no one listened. The new recruits stared with open mouths and scared eyes. Some of the senior soldiers and miners tried to hold back their laughter while many more were dead serious. Dorof found it amusing, but many more of the old timers were fed up with youngin's coming in. They thought they knew everything, and consistently came cocky and too sure of themselves. There was a reason they were hard on the new recruits.

Kirroh had been one such recruit.

Not only was Rubble eating at the moment, but all the new recruits throughout the mines had assembled in the same area for mid day meal. Dorof could see some of the other senior guards watching and added to his lecture, "if any of you be thinkin' 'bout complainin', take it to someone who give a damn, I reckon the goblins be your best chance."

Seeing that almost every new Dwarf was scared out of their wit, Dorof decided he'd had enough fun for the moment. He calmly walked out of the room and down a shaft until his footsteps were lost in the ambient noises of the mines.

[Bessain]

"What're ye about?" Cobble muttered to his friend when Rubble finally sat down.

Rubble crossed his arms over his chest in a huff. "Nothin that ye ain't been thinking yerself!" The red bearded dwarf came from a proud family, one that was taught never to take no for an answer.

"Old codders jus' gonna give us more work."

"Work? Dance lessons more like. Left, right, back, halt, come about. I ain't some elf prancin' around in the forest."

Cobble just shook his head and latched onto Rubble's arm. Their patrol team was getting up to leave and there was no way his stubborn friend was going to move on his own.

Rubble tore his arm away and belted his helmet on as he marched. Cobble chatted with him lightly at the back of the line, trying to lift the mood. It was a futile attempt. Nothing seemed to alleviate the dwarf's frown, and Cobble gave up before long.

This happened to be the last patrol in the shift for the two youngsters. Despite their expectations that morning, the two felt they would be happy to see the end of the day. The only problem was, this was the longest run yet. As the last patrol of the evening, the company would have to check all operating levels of the mine. For the next two hours, the group slowly made its way deeper and deeper into the mountain.

"HALT!" came the command from the front of the line.

Rubble, who was not listening, marched right into an older dwarf in front of him. After recieving a good swat between his eyes, the little dwarf turned his attention up front. He slowly tried to peer around the other gaurds, but found that he could not spot whatever had made the company stop.

"Staggered Columns! Stay close!" Dorof called up front. The small patrolling party immediately broke off into groups of three, each dwarf standing shoulder to shoulder as the small tunnel would allow.

Dwarven mines were indeed dangerous places. Side halls and drop outs in the floor could open up at anytime in the dark, leaving you exposed to anything. Traveling alone was discouraged.

"What's goin' on?!" Rubble grumbled. The two dwarves he was grouped with shushed him. Despite his interest in the situation, Rubble couldn't help but feel nervous that Cobble had not been paired off with him.

"Khazâd ai-mênu!" Dorof shouted from somewhere in the dark. He was followed by the call to charge, and the tunnel rang with cries of the coming battle.

((Khazâd ai-mênu!-- The dwarves are upon you!
labomba, some people like to reference Tolkien's many languages in their threads. If you ever need help trying to figure out what theyre getting at, because some people are mean and they don't leave a translation, just check out folk.uib.no/hnohf/index.html . If you lose this link just google Ardalambion and the Tongues of Arda. Ardalambion's a fun word so it's easy to remember. ))

[labomba]

They weren't alone. The eyes of Dorof the dwarf had grown keen to life without sunlight through decades of working and living underground. He saw as good in the mines as elves did in their forests, it came naturally to him now. While performing final rounds Dorof had noticed far ahead something on the ground. While the mines were constantly cluttered with mining debris Dorof's keen senses informed him that something wasn't right.

“Halt!” he said commandingly. As the guards and soldiers behind him stopped he thought he could hear commotion from further down the shaft. He tried to listen but had difficulty hearing through the chatter behind him. Dorof leaned towards his friend, “tell those youngin's to shut up or I'll shut em' up!” The lieutenant simply raised his hand and silence immediately fell upon the group. “Show off!”

Annoyed, he waited quietly and listened. After several moments he both saw, and heard something move in the distance and immediately know what was occuring.

"Staggered Columns!” he yelled, no longer needing silence.

Those that followed immediately got in formation. The debris on the ground were no mining equipment, but dwarves. They were only two stragglers that had fallen behind the group when returning home for the evening, except they would never have the opportunity to again. At least, not alive. Dorof recognized the workings of Goblins and prepared for battle. Maybe twenty seconds lie between the dwarves and Goblins.

Dorof was almost accustomed to bloodshed and battle, but before the Goblins could arrive his lieutenant pointed out that not everyone was as experienced, nor numb to death as they'd become. There was no time for a heart warming speech or encouraging words of advice, only a battle cry.

"Khazâd ai-mênu” was all he had time for, but he noticed it had an impact. He hoped it was a positive one.

The battle was brief. Only about a dozen goblins had charged the patrol and none remained after only a minute. Dorof himself cut off two goblin heads and killed another.

“Two? I got me here three!” cried his friend. “I guess'in that debt be called off now?”

“I ain't shook no handshake, you still owe me that drink!” They both laughed and began to inspect their surroundings and the damage the battle had created.

“Sound off!” Dorof yelled.

“One,” “Two,” “Three,” the counting continued. “Eight,”......silence. Nine was not answering, and soon ten didn't either. After these the counting continued until all were accounted for, except nine and ten.

As Dorof asked the obvious question, “Who were they, and where are they?” he tripped over a corpse, except the corpse yelled.

“Ouch!” shouted the corpse. As it turned out, Dorof had inadvertently discovered where nine was.

“What ye be doin' on the ground sold....oh it's you boy!” Dorof realized mid-sentence who he'd almost tripped over. “Why in Moria would you be on the ground?”

“I....I don't reckon. Last I remember were Goblins running towards us.”

Someone shouted in the back, “He fainted! The solider fell asleep on the job!”

“Alright, alright” shouted Dorof. “I'm sure we'll be havin' our fun with this later after we find where ten be.”

“Ten? Why that was Cobble!” shouted Rubble. “Where be he?”

Dorof responded, “your guess be as good as mine right now, boy.”

[Gwyn]

Arraam, a Dunedain Ranger of the North, had taken a seldom used route home simply to survey and scout out the country side when he stumbled upon the trail of goblins. It was not a small group, raiding party size with two trolls. He turned aside and had now been following their trail for four nights. They knew the country well and before sunrise each day they were safely hidden from the sun's rays in a cave of some sort. They were now about a league away from the dwarven mines as he could best guess and this is where the goblins remained.

About midnight, on the fifth night, a group of goblins, he estimated between 15 and 20, began a trek towards the dwarven mines. This was very unusual, even for goblins who, unless they out greatly numbered the dwarfs, never mastered them in battle. The closer they came to the mountain the more stealth the goblins used and by the time they reached the mountain side they all even controlled their breathing to avoid hissing. They were a very nervous bunch, constantly stopping to sniff the air and watching their back.
They followed a pathway that clearly saw little or no traffic. They knew exactly where they were going for before long the lead goblin veered to the right and stopped at a small rock face. Out of a bag he carried he pulled a long key, Dwarven made by the looks of it. he slipped it into a crack in the rock. There was a click, and a door appeared and swing in. In his 65 years of tracking and killing goblins he had never seen or heard of the likes of this. Goblins as far as he knew goblins never entered any dwarven mines still occupied by a number of dwarf folk, let alone use a key in a hidden door. Three of the goblins remained outside and the remainder entered closing the door behind them. This was all very well planned out. It was clearly not planned by the goblins themselves.

About an hour or so later a single goblin opened the door, closed it and removed the key.

"Where are the others?" one hissed

"All dead. There was a late patrol, much later than we were told. There is treachery at work here." At this the goblins hissed and then ran off being none to stealthy.

Arraam watched them go. He had decided to see if anything else would come out the door, like a dwarf. They would welcome what information he had so long as they didn't kill him first. Dwarfs tended to kill anything not of their kind when the heat of battle was on them. He would have to tread lightly.

[Bessain]

"Oi, Cobble!" Rubble called frantically, shoving away from Dorof. He turned and ran back back down the tunnel checking the bodies on the floor. Most dwarves would have waited for the inspection command before seaching the dead, lest any goblins were feigning death.

The little dwarf decided to retrace his steps. He remembered being parted from his friend, forced into a group with two other guards. The battle started, and his grip on the hand-me-down axe tightened so much that Rubble felt his body go tense and freeze. Air caught in his lungs, and remained there as the enemy advanced. The little dwarf felt fear chase away all his military training. He stood stalk still, wanting more than anything to retaliate, to run; anything that would have meant mastering control of his own limbs once more.

One very large, foul smelling goblin rushed poor Rubble, and still his body would not obey. The older of two dwarves he had been grouped with, tackled him to the ground where his head smashed into a rock. The goblin was cut down by his partner.

Nothing he could recollect held any memory of Cobble's whereabouts.

Helplessly he searched, calling for his lost comrade. A weak cough drew his attention.

Cobble lay trapped underneath his enemy, lacking the strength to free himself. Rubble kicked the goblin off his friend and clasped forearms with him. A dark red gash outlined the weak points in Cobble's armor around his shoulder and collar bone.

"I found him! He's here!" Rubble called behind him, applying pressure to the apparent wounds. Rubble looked down at the blood pooling around his fingers and felt his body shake in revulsion.

There was a guard in the troupe learned in healing techniques and he ran forward to assist. Rubble was pushed out of the way as Cobble was attended to, and eventually carried on the shoulders of his brothers back to dwarven halls.

Rubble tasted bile as he quickly tried to rid his hands of blood.

"C'mon now Rubble. It'll be alright. Easy now." The two dwarves he had been grouped with tried to console their trainee. "Y'just sit now. We'll clean the grounds. Breathe."

The work began now, as each dwarf present took up a goblin to drag to the surface. The bodies would have to be burned and there was no sense making a pyre in a tunnel. It was a slow process, returning to the world above. Rubble followed listlessly in the back.

The exit was close now. Rubble could smell pine trees now, and the sudden burst of fresh air seemed to sting his lungs. He had recovered enough now to be of some use. Dorof sent him off into the woods to gather fuel to feed the fires. Rubble trekked off slowly without question.

[Gwyn]

Never trusting anything said by a goblin Arraam waited with sword drawn just outside the door. A goblin would say and do anything to flee a losing battle. He was not surprised when he heard the stone door open but it was not goblins that came forth. He watch as several dwarves dragged out goblin bodies and dumped them in a heap to be burned. There was one dwarf at the tail end of the column who was smaller and who's beard was not that of an hardened warrior. Arraam spoke little or no dwarven but he gleaned enough to make out the order to bring wood for the pier. It was now that he made his presence known.

"Hail Khazâd Uzbad bizar" (Hail Dwarven Lord of the valley)
Rubble was frightened out of his wits but he was determined not to show it. He shouted the dwarven charge and began to swing his axe.

Arraam easily side stepped the young dwarfs attempts to cleave him in two. Not sure what to expect from the others he held his sword but made no attempt to deflect Rubbles wild swings. The others came running ready for battle expecting more goblins. Arraam again shouted out the same greeting and add that he was a Dúnedain hoping there were some with cooler heads that this young one.

"Stay your axe Rubble" Dorof called out as he came to Rubble's side.

"State your name and your business in these woods Dúnedain. We have battled goblins this night and we will strike down any allied with them. Man or goblin makes no difference to me" He barked
.
"I am Arraam son of Aradan, and as to my business I have followed the goblins for four days and five nights. I bring you word that there still be a score of goblins and two trolls camped but a league from this door. There is more to tell but we may be under the eye of the enemy as we speak."

"Sheath your blade Dúnedain and let me have a good look at ya." Dorof came forward and looked Arraam over. "Aye you are your father's son, I can see him and your grand sire in you. I know your father lad so be at peace." Dorof turn to the others. "He is who he says and let be known that he is a dwarf friend."

"You do me honour." Arraam docked his head.

"Under the eye of the enemy or not; these scum will burn. Let it be a message to those who watch or wait." Dorof bade Arraam to walk with him but before they moved Dorof laid his hand on Rubbles shoulder. "You done good boy."

Out of ear shot of the others by the door the Dúnedain and Dwarf Captain spoke.

"This is very bad news indeed." Dorof commented when hearing what took place. "This door is seldom used and not watched; that will have to change. How they came to know where the door was is a mystery but having a key." He scratched his head. "How in blazes did they get a key? Well that will be a question for the master of the Keys. The Lord Master will be greatly troubled by this news and I've no doubt he'll be wanting to talk to you and hear all you know of these Goblins.... Cave trolls eh?' He muttered to himself.

It was not much longer before a strong roaring fire was going all round the dead goblins. What of the goblins that wouldn't be burnt, and that would be very little, would be left to scavengers. The dwarves and Arraam left the pyre. Inside the door guards were posted by Dorof until a squad could be sent to take their place. He and the Dúnedain would be going straight to the Lord Master in spite of the hour. As for the goblins, they would find getting in not so easy should they try again. Try again they may because they posted no watchman and knew nothing of the Dúnedain and the news he brought to the dwarves.

[Naucoaran]

Night fell quickly soon after the pyre burned down to ashes. Farther out into the forest, an old man, or one who appeared old, stooped over a patch of barren land. He wore a long rough robe of green, its hemlines bordered in yellow stitching of leaves. His boots were of soft deerskin, and where he stepped, there was no mark of his passing. He held a long gnarled staff in the crook of one arm, while the other brushed through a brown bushy beard. Both his hair and his beard were wiry and untamed, but still had a measure of order. Wrinkles showed on his weathered face, and a deep wellspring of wisdom showed in his hazel eyes. Euan, the name given him in the Westron tongue, held his staff out before him and planted the tip into the earth.

The robed man muttered a few things to himself, then waved his staff at the barren land. The soil lightened, the stain of darkness too prevalent in Mirkwood lifting from the ground. A smile creased his old face, and he bent his will into the earth with greater fervor. Small plants sprouted, blades of grass reaching up into the air. Soon there was a carpet of grass, and small trees started to sprout in the new earth as well. The Istar straightened his back and the tree growth slowed down to a natural pace, 3 new saplings standing a few feet tall in the new patch of grass. This continued for a few more hours, working in new patches of barren land, expanding the new growth. Just as the old man started to work on the fifth patch of land, a rustling in the trees, and black speech sent him on alert.

The spell, having not completed, died down. The fresh ground started to darken from the corruption again, and an anger of work lost flooded the robed man. No one, not even the elves, could move in the forest like him. This was his domain, his purpose, and he knew no rival in speed and stealth when traversing the wooded lands. The green robes the wizard wore concealed him in the shadows as he approached the group. He had originally planned to ambush the goblins, for that was what he had heard, and remove them from the area. The band would surely ruin his work, and spread the corruption over the fresh soil once more.

His plans changed, however, when he got closer. He could feel the vibrations in his feet first, the resounding footfalls of trolls as they trampled through the vegetation, tearing trees up from the roots that stood in their way. Among other things, the wizard heard that they planned to infiltrate Erebor, the dwarven settlement north of Mirkwood. The wizard set off at once, planning to first warn the dwarves of Erebor, then convincing them to march out to meet this force on a battlefield of their choosing. The small war band was too far to attack that night, and the trolls had to stay within the forest during the daylight else they perish. He had the time to make it and properly form a defense. The robed man set out at once.

[labomba]

Dorof walked though the corridors of the mines, taking first a left and then a right. He and the Dúnedain traversed the halls at a quick pace, for Dorof knew that this information was necessary for the general to hear. Actually, he assumed it would go straight from the general to the King, for Dwarven keys were not something that was usually accessible to Goblins, nor anyone outside of the clan for that matter.

While they were traveling the mines they approached the infirmary and Dorof made it a point to stop for a moment.

“Hold here a moment, I take care of me troops be it in battle or nay,” whisper Dorof. He entered the infirmary and quickly found Cobble on something resembling a bed. Cobble was unconscious at the moment and Dorof knew that rest was something to be valued for injured soldiers. He leaned over Cobble, “they be takin' good care of you here boy, hell they've fixed me up a couple times hurtin' more than ye be, you be up and marchin' 'gain in no time.” Dorof then proceeded to give a stern look at some of the other Dwarves treating the injured, “he better be fine or you won't be!” was the message, and it was received, verbally or not.

He quickly left and rejoined the Dúnedain in the halls.

“Youngin' or not, he still be one of my men,” exclaimed Dorof, “and I take care of my men!”

They walked another five minutes or so until they entered a small chamber with axes, swords, armor, and generally everything thinkable that would be needed for battle scattered throughout the room.

“Why Dorof! It's been too long since you've reported about the skirmishes in the mines. How goes the security detail?” The general had apparently been drinking, or smoking, or generally not informed of what had happened. Dorof quickly informed him of the short fight and the injured.

“He shall be well taken care of,” commented the general. “But this is not news, this is normal! Who is this person here? A human in the mines is not a common thing to be seein'! Where does he come into this story of yours?” Dorof and the Dúnedain then filled the general in on everything that he had observed from outside the door.

“"Aule's dirty arse! They have a key?"” was the response. “I shall report this to the higher ups, much thanks to ye Dorof. Take care of your men and see to it they be prepared for another patrol tomorrow, or possibly more....” He gestured to Arraam, “you're welcome to stay with my men for a while, I'm sure the king would love to hear this story straight from you.”

[Bessain]

"Friend or foe!" Rubble barked angrily, his axe clutched tightly to his chest. Half of the dwarven band had been ordered to stay behind to guard the newly discovered breech in the security of the hall. Rubble's superiors thought an extended shift would be a good lesson for the stubborn dwarf.

"Friend or foe? I am neither if you do not lower your axe, young dwarf. Should I so choose, I could simply leave and let you lie in wait for the darkness that travels from Mirkwood into your halls." said the old man, stepping out of the woods and into the fading light of the low burning torches.

Gablund, the head of Rubble's patrol team, stepped forward and put a hand on the little dwarf's shoulder. He recognized a staff of the Istari when he saw one.

"Our visitors of late have been fey indeed, excuse the boy." Gablund said docking his head in respect. He attempted to hide his accent in order to be better understood.

Word of the battles in southern Mirkwood were known to the dwarves. They had even received news from Tharkûn himself, once the ordeal was somewhat settled, that had even seen the grey one at the dwarven doorsteps not so long ago. But the dwarves had had their own war to contend with at the time and were unable to send reinforcements. They had their doubts that the elves wished their aid anyway.

A wizard in their presence was not as strange a thing as Rubble might have thought, and Gablund was not about to let the boy change tradition because of his youth.

Gablund had to assume this sudden visit was once again about the elves. It seemed to be the only news they ever received.

"What news from the south?" he asked, ushering the wizard towards the stone doorway so they could speak freely.

"My good dwarf, this has nothing at all to do with Dol Guldur. Or atleast, that is my hope."

[Naucoaran]

"What is it then?" Gablund said after a few minutes of silence.

"You will hear it in time, and in full, good dwarf. I do not wish to tell my story twice. Take me to your king, and there you shall learn my tale." The jaunt to the king's audience hall was rather quiet after that, the only sounds being the loud clapping of dwarven boots on the stone floor.

As they entered the chamber, Gablund moved forward to present the wizard. "Mi' Lord, may I present to you the Green Wizard." He said with a bow. This brought a surprise to the dwarven king, because a wizard was rare to make social calls.

"News from the south? Do you bring news from Mirkwood?"

"News from Mirkwood indeed, Lord Dáin, but not of the elves. I fear that I am a harbinger, but of what is not yet revealed. My fear is that this is just the gathering clouds of a darker storm. A day from now, after the sun has set, a band of goblins and numerous trolls will besiege the southern gate. Their intentions are unclear to me, but the threat remains the same."

It was at this time that the audience doors opened again, and another dwarf led a human man into the room, presenting him as one of the Dúnedain rangers. "Ah, I see that other eyes have been watching the forest as well. Perhaps he can shed light on things still dark." The old wizard said as he stepped to the side. to make room for the second visitor.

[Gwyn]

Arraam was surprised to say the least at the green figure standing in the royal hall. He had heard tales of Calenranadir, the land healer, from Mithrandir and his father but to find the green wizard here in the dwarven halls was a surprise.

He removed his hood as he entered the hall. "Calenranadir" (Green Pilgrim/Wanderer) Arraam bowed. "Not since my sire was but a boy were you last seen in the Western lands. I pray you come with good council for the tidings I bear are ill news."
Arraam turns and bows to the Lord of the Dwarven Halls. "My lord you do me a great honour. I am sorry, for the tidings I bring you are of treachery, deceit and possibly war. You are beset by trolls and goblins but a league from your western doors. Your warriors killed all but two of those that entered your Halls. One of those two bore a key, which was used to gain entry. They knew of the hidden door and they also knew that the door was not guarded. There is yet a score or more of goblins and three trolls hidden from the light in the hills. I followed this troop for 4 nights and their path was clearly set before them. Their captains spoke not a word of where they were from but by the trail they left I would say they came from Goblin Town, across Anduin and through the northern green forest. I heard nothing clearly spoken but what I did understand was that there was something which was theirs and they were sent to find it. Your realm my lord was their goal. Of that I am certain."

"If you will permit, I suggest a watch be place on the western road and the goblin trail; more goblins may follow. I can return to the forest and continue watch those we know of. The trolls concern me. The only purpose I can foresee is to use them to rush your gates and to lay them waste. But the goblins do not now have the numbers needed to try and overwhelm your lines even if the gates were destroyed. There are still too many questions to know their purpose. No matter what may come you may depend on my blade should the need arise."

Arraam bowed and took a step backwards.

[labomba]

(OOC: My apologizes! School's been kicking my ass lately, and spare time is rare)

Dorof wanted to stick around and listen to what was happening. His input would be potentially valuable for devising a plan of defense and deciding what was happening with the goblins. He didn't like being out of the loop. A good warrior always understood why they were fighting and what was going on.

Sadly, Dorof understood the fact that he was not at the top of the chain of command. He wasn't even near it, only a middle man. Dorof's job was taking orders and redistributing it to the soldiers actually doing the fighting, himself included. Rarely had he seen those above him actually get their hands dirty.

"If ye be excusin' me, I must be preparin' our men for battle." With that he left the chamber and proceeded back to his regiment. Thoughts went through his head. Most were about why the trolls and goblins were acting strangely and what their goals could be. Repeatedly he had to clear his head and remind himself that that was not his job.

"Those youngin's better be made ready, experience or not!" When he got back he ordered his subordinates to start gathering all the men under his command, on or off duty. A few laborers were commanded to start gathering extra weapons and armor form the cache's that were only used in times of war. Others went to grab some of those trained in medicine, those that would be doing their duty in the field of battle.

Within fifteen minutes almost everyone had reported in. Dorof began asking his officers if all their troops had reported in.

"Alpha squadron?"
"Check."
"Bravo?"
"Check."
"Echo?"
"Missing one!"
"Then find him!"

Dorof began his speech with a warning, "We are not at war yet! We do not know what the plan of the Goblin's are, only that they are up to no good." We may not fight today, and we may not fight tomorrow. The only thing for sure is that we will be defending our people, and soon." Before he could continue he noticed a face. "Well hello again, I hope you've recovered from our incident earlier today?"