By the fire

A knock disrupts thoughts about deep dwellings and ancient artifacts. Dwaigrim put's down his mug and steps away from the warmth of the fireplace toward the door. The heavy oak door opens with a creak. On top of the narrow steps leading up to the door stands a man wearing dirty but reasonably well kept gear clearly meant to endure the harshness of the wilds. Dwaigrim looks up and greets the man.
"Hail Waimir of Gondor. Good to see ya lad." The tall man Looks down to the dwarf remaining silent.
"C'mon in lad. I know you like gloomy weather, but no need to stand in the rain. It's pouring if you haven't noticed." Dwaigrim laughs and shows Waimir in.

Dwaigrim closes the door and motions toward the room to right side from the main hall. "I cleaned your room a bit while you were away."
Waimir walks through the doorway toward the chest at the back. His clothes are dripping water. Mud from his boots stains the floor and the carpet in the middle of the small room.
"Did you hear what I said mate?"
Dwaigrim gets no reaction from the dirty man opening the chest and going through it's contents. He takes something from his pocket and puts it in the chest. He gives a glance at the dwarf standing at the doorway sifting fingers through his beard as he locks it.
"Not in the talking mood eh, lad? Very well then." Dwaigrim returns to the hall and takes a pipe from the mantle of the fireplace.

Raindrops hit the window at the end of the room adding to the song of the fire as it dances to the melody of it's crackling, sheding it's warm orange light to the hall with almost no furniture, but a few chairs and bookshelves. A hide of a large brown bear lays in the middle of the large room, the light of the fire gleaming from it's eyes.

"I'm sorry master Dwaigrim, for being so rude." Waimir looks at the floor and pulls a chair next to the fire.
"You let me live here and I repay you by not even greeting when you welcome me."
Dwaigrim puffs smoke from his pipe and looks at Waimir from under his brow. "Think none of it lad. I am sure you had a rough trip looking at the condition of your traveling gear."
He looks at the log holder sitting next to the fireplace. It's almost empty. Dwaigrim takes the last two logs and puts them into the fire.
"And couldn't help but notice. Your spear is not in too good condition. You should get it repaired or get yourself a new one."
Waimir nods. "Yes I know. There's hardly anything in Esteldin the I could use to maintain my equipment. I must go by Bree on my way back and look for a new one. Have some other business there anyway. The reason I had to come back."

Dwaigrim empties his pipe into the fire.
"So how are things in Esteldin and what's this sudden business you need to see to in Bree, if you dont mind me asking? Did you find nice treasures that you need to sell?" Dwaigrim smirks at Waimir.
"Don't you dwarves ever think about anything else than treasures and wealth?!"
Surprised by Waimir's harsh respond that was not like him. He had thought the man never gets upset.
"Well you know we lik..."
Waimir interrupts him sharply.
"Yes I do very well know..."
And then suddenly gasps as if realizing something that had escaped his mind until now. He springs up from his chair toppling it over down to the floor. Dwaigrim looks puzzled at Waimir as the man walks quickly to his room. The sound of a chest opening and then slamming shut echoes for brief moment in the hall. Dwaigrim stands up as he sees Waimir heading to the door.
"Wait. Waimir where are ya going now. Heading back to Esteldin already? Shouldn't you rest a bit before going?"
Waimir opens the door and a lightning in the distance lights the room for a brief moment drawing Waimir's dark silhouette on the stone floor.
"I apologise for this master Dwaigrim, but I must haste now. I have no time to explain. Take care my good friend." The door closes behind him as he disappears into the storm.

Dwaigrim looks at the empty log holder and sighs. He picks it up, walks to the door and opens it. He wonders how long it's going to take to get his beard dry this time and steps out.
"Where did I put that axe again..."

Heavy rain batters the steps.

A tall, battle weary man stands under his porch, smoking some Old Toby he found near a campsite in Eregion. The smoke rings stand out against the rain as it lashes onto the path outside.

Suddenly a tall figure darts out of a nearby house quickly followed by a grumpy looking dwarf with an axe.

"Typical", Renn mutters under his breath. "This neighbourhood is going to the wolves." With that he saddles up his horse and gallops away into the distance.




Nice story Dwaigrim! But must you make all that noise?

A small figure clears his way trough bushes of Tal Bruinen. He looks a bit exited even being totally soaked by rain. Picking thistles from his hair he stops behind few big trees. "Huh, I think I finally put him off my heels", Miktho whispers. "And not a moment too soon". Looking around he continues muttering himself " Now I just need a place to take cover from rain and make some tea".

Suddenly he remembers: "Delossad!" He seems to shiver a bit from the memory of the name but quickly starts moving towards the ancient center of study. "I hope the books poor Sara left there are still readible". Wet but happy hobbit enters the dungeon, finds a dry corner and prepares a small fire to dry his clothes. Soon the tired Shirrif is deep in sleep.

When Miktho wakes he smells the sweet, intoxicating smell of fried mushrooms, crispy bacon and sweet tea. Opening eyes he sees a tall, thin elf sitting by the fire smiling to him. "That was most unwise of you Master Shirrif", Vinyalindo grins. "The Librarian is rather angry of you", he continues. Miktho blushes and mutters, "I know, I couldn't resist temptation". "And I was sure I could make a really inspiring songbook, I am sorry". Miktho gets up trying to reach the delicious food by fire but elf quickly takes the pan and keeps it from his reach. "Torture!", hobbit cryes.
"Now now Master Shirrif, this is no torture but trade. I trade this meal for the book you made from the pages of Elrond's Library.", Vinyalindo says.

Few hours later Miktho is alone in Delossad. All the food is gone, and so is the book he had made.
"Time to find the books Sara left here and see if they are of anygood.", he says while lighting the pipe and moves deeper in Delossad....