Elendor
The Dwarf-King's judgement
The Marshall Bifur asks Dain to pass judgment on Frarin and Thari, who stand accused of sedition
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Londaroth, Dale-lands
Game Date: April 3049
IC Time: Evening
Description: Londaroth
This is a good-sized town, mostly populated by humans, though dwarves are a fairly common sight. Built on the west side of the River Running, Londaroth serves as the residences for the industrial works just to the north, along the foot of the waterfall that is the southern end of the Long Lake. Acres of fields and pasture-land, with cattle and sheep grazing peacefully, stretch out away from the river on both sides, an area that produces much of the food for the Dale, Esgaroth, and Erebor.
An inn, stable, and numerous shops are all built around a large central square, with houses in outlying streets. Along the river, many docks are present from where the river becomes deep enough to be navigatable again and on south past the boundries of the town. River traffic is fairly heavy. Shipments of goods from Dale are typically ported down around the waterfall, re-loaded onto barges here, and sent to points south, with the reverse process applying for boats coming up-river. Just above the docks, a large bridge crosses over to the eastern side, where a road meanders its way south.
Obvious exits:
Bridge, Into the River, NorthWest, and West
=-=-=-= Dale-Lands Time and Weather Service =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Real Time: Sun Oct 25 15:32:01 2009 MST
Dale-Lands Time:
Trewsday, midnight on a cloudy spring's night, April 11 of 3048
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Dale-Lands Time and Weather Service =-=-=-=
It is dark outside and slightly chilly, but mostly the spring evening feels damp, as if threatening rain by the morning's light. And yet the feeling in the town of Londaroth is much changed from what it was only earlier this morning, for there are new arrivals at the town. Nay, new arrivals is an underestimate. To the northwest of Londaroth are now a host of new tents, a conglomeration of new fires dotting the soft dales around the town. And at the heart of these tents is a group of larger tents, pavilions, all bearing the device of the House of Durin.
Although it is growing late, King Dain appears to be well awake, busy gaining first-hand knowledge of the situation at Londaroth and hearing of the events of previous months. He is fully clad in armour and walks carrying his blood red axe, as much for the reassurance of his soldiers as for defense. Now he is returning to the circle of pavilion tents, coming from Londaroth and followed by a number of subordinates as he weaves his way through the many tents.
Pacing back and forth among the tents outside is the short, stout figure of Bifur, clad in gleaming mail with a huge axe strapped to his back. Though his mail is spotless, his garb shows the wear of many weeks on the road. The old warrior grunts and mutters to himself even as the king approaches. When he is closer, Bifur bows deeply, befitting royalty. With a deep, rough voice, he speaks, "My lord. A good eve to ya."
Spring is here, reinforcements have arrived and the enemies to the west are quiet - plenty to be happy about, one would think. It hasn't stopped Broddur grumbling, though. The miner picks his way through the camp, squelching in the puddles and muttering under his breath. "Too open. Too muddy. Too many Menfolk underfoot. It's high time this pick of mine bit-"
His complaints fall suddenly silent as the voice of Bifur reaches his ears. He stops, squinting round to see who the Marshal is talking to ... and ducks his head in the dwarven equivalent of a bow as he realizes that Dain will pass nearby.
Thari's clothes are travel-stained too, but are clean anyway. The dwarven healer is sitting atop of a stone not too far from Bifur in a glum way. She looks up when he speaks, then stands herself and bows deeply toward Dain, speaking not.
Dain appears weary from a day of travelling and inspecting, but not entirely spent, for he lifts his chin as he catches sight of Bifur and the old warrior bows. The king nods deeply in return. "Good evening, Bifur," he greets, voice strong with a touch of tiredness. A second is spared to glance at Broddur and Thari as they both bow to him, but Dain for now only addresses Bifur. "How are you tonight, friend?"
Straightening up from his deep bow, Bifur assumes a position beside King Dain, running a hand idly through his beard. After a moment, he speaks as he gestures with his other hand towards Thari, "In truth, I am troubled, m'lord. Twas not for a minor matter that I asked fer yer ear. Of course you know well the situation these past few weeks and of our difficulties in the forces we faced. But it seems that not all our folk know their place and who they take orders from." Pausing for a few moments to glance over at Thari, he grunts, "I need not explain the dangers in such behavior to one as learned as you in the ways of war, my lord."
Broddur, glancing up from beneath bushy brows, notes the Dwarf-King's fleeting glance. A sigh escapes his lips that might well be relief - perhaps that is what bolsters him up enough to attempt conversation with Thari, who catches his eye as he looks away from the royal company. "Evening, healer," he offers with a nod and a grunt in her direction. "Suppose you've been having a quiet time of it seems to have been a lull of late."
When he catches the direction of Bifur's gesture he stiffens, scowling as though regretting having offered speech to the 'troublemaker'. One hand raises to start scratching at his chin, where new beard growth has started to cloak the scarring.
Thari arises from her bow but keeps her head down somewhat. Grey eyes do lift and the dwarven healer looks at the King's face, yet still says nothing.
A quick glance to Broddur. "Something like that," Thari mutters.
"Oh?" Dain says, brows coming together with a questioning frown. He glances at Thari when Bifur indicates her, and again when the old war marshall looks at her as he explains his reason for seeking Dain's audience. "Indeed?" the king says simply, now lifting a brow. He looks at Thari again, but still addresses neither her nor Broddur. "It is a grave situation then?" Dain says to Bifur, lowering his voice some. "That you could not have handled it yourself?"
The old war marshal takes a deep breath and taps his chin, "In truth, the healer joined in when another became seditious. The one called Frarin. Wounded from action, this merchant saw fit to question not only my military strategy and tactics, but me courage as well." Taking a few steps as he sighs, Bifur continues in a low, gravelly voice, "The merchant insisted that he would not follow orders." With his arms spread wide, the old dwarf shrugs toward the king, "I gave him a bit of... convincing. But he persisted."
As an afterthought, Bifur grunts, "Thari there came in ta defend Frarin after it already had gone too far. She said some such about not needin' ta follow my orders."
Broddur shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot as he speculates at the matter under discussion (rumour has been rife these past weeks). When the voices of King and Marshall lower he glances round surreptitiously, scowling with concentration - there's little doubt he's trying to listen. He's not subtle, Broddur.
At the mention of the name 'Frarin' he stiffens, and his scowl becomes the lowered brows and screwed-up features that signify perplexity. When the Marshall's speech is done, he dares quirk a brow at Thari and mutter, "What's all that about, then?" The fact she might be rather too preoccupied to answer does not even occur to him.
"Frarin my kinsman," Thari is very hestiant to speak and makes a brief gesture here, "was trying to save us. He is a wise dwarf, much older than me." The healer looks at Broddur, gives a shy nod of her head, but doesn't answer.
Turning quickly to Thari, Bifur's eyes light up and he speaks in a harsh, loud voice, "You will be silent until you are asked for your input, healer." His voice softening considerably, Bifur turns back to King Dain and sighs, "My apologies, my lord. You see though, the problems this one has with her tongue?"
Dain's brows rise properly now and he draws a breath, eyes briefly lifting to the dark sky just past Bifur's shoulder as if this is yet one more worry to add to the king's growing list. "Frarin," Dain repeats at a grumble. "Of Barazin, yes? I have heard his name, I believe. And Thari, Balur's child if I recall." At this last he turns finally to address Thari, pausing when she speaks up and again when Bifur rebukes her. "Let him speak, Bifur," Dain rumbles wearily. "He will do so shortly in any case."
Then the king abruptly turns to Broddur, a dwarf much older than Thari. And clearly recently injured. "You are Frarin of Barazin then?" he asks in a foreboding voice.
The old war marshal nods his head at Dain's question, "Aye, m'lord. Frarin of the Barazin." With a withering glance over at Thari, Bifur grunts, "I would add, m'lord, that I would've dealt with the matter immediately. Unfortunately, the military situation was such that I couldn't spare their axes. And so, I informed them both that they would answer ta the king when we were back."
Broddur's perplexed expression is growing, and his lips are pressed tight shut as though to prevent any words bursting out to condemn him. From his quivering stance it's pretty clear he wants to say /something/.
At Dain's query he looks up, startled, and then slowly shakes his head. "No, my King. I am Broddur son of Brandur, from the Blue Mountains. But," he hesitates then takes a deep breath, "reckon I witnessed part of the incident in question. Though I don't know about the not following orders ..." He grimaces, the motion puckering the healing scars.
Thari pulls back a bit as Bifur rebukes her. She folds her hands together over her belt, where the ends of her beard nearly reach. Her head is bowed again and she watches the King with an expression that becomes more alarmed by the moment.
A tall mannish figure makes his way through the night-dimmed dwarven encampment. Young Lieutenant Acton stops when he reaches the King's tent, standing respectfully upon the edge of this gathering. His eyes find the grizzled Bifur and he nods once in greeting ere turning his regard to the King.
"Mm," Dain grunts thoughtfully to Bifur, though his eyes remain fixed upon Thari and Broddur. A silver brow raises in interest when Broddur explains his presence during the incident, and then continues to give a brief opinion. After a second's silence, Dain frowns and gives a single nod to himself. "Very well. All of you come into my tent and we shall sort this matter out in private." Yet as the dwarf king turns towards his tent, the largest of the royal pavilions, he pauses when a young man, clearly of Dale, appears. Apparently believing the man to be some messenger of sorts, Dain frowns at him. "Yes?"
Glancing over toward the Dale-lander, Bifur nods slightly and addresses the king, "Sire, the lieutenant is here at my request, having been an integral part of matters since the fall of their captain at the bridge some time ago." Gesturing to Acton with his hand, he nods his head expectantly at the human.
At the Dwarf-King's command Broddur freezes, but as he turns toward the tent he utters a subdued, "Aye, my lord King."
The arrival of Acton grants him reprieve from questioning for now he does not attempt to intrude on /this/ conversation, but under cover of the distraction he mutters very quietly under his breath, "Should have kept my mouth shut."
"My lord," greets the young man, bowing low to Dain. "I am Lieutenant Acton of the King's Men. I was the ranking officer at Iach Celduin after the death of General Gelbard and then again after the departure of Captain Lorthrain."
"As Lord Bifur has explained. I am here at his request. I believe you are addressing concerns over a number of your people placed under..." the young man pauses briefly, looking very self-conscious, "...my command."
Thari releases a breath of air, almost like a bit of laugh after Broddur speaks. The healer glances at Acton.
"Ah," Dain says business-like, nodding at first Bifur's introduction and then Acton's explanation. "Very well, very well, come in as well, Lieutenant." The king sweeps aside the flap of his tent and enters the roomy pavilion. It is very well furnished, with rugs and furs upon the ground and ceiling, a bed on one side behind a cloth partition and a desk and chair at the centre. Dain rests his axe against the side of his desk and removes his cloak.
After the king, Bifur enters the pavilion, removing his golden cloak and stepping aside to make room for the others to enter. He pauses to examine the road grime that has built up and shakes his head momentarily.
Thari follows Bifur in at a cautious distance. The healer stops closer to the wall of the tent than the desk.
Broddur, looking even less happy as the human is invited to join them, waits until all those outranking him have entered before stepping into the pavilion. Once inside, he halts as near the entrance he can, staring down at his feet. At the sight of the lumps of mud he's shed on the fine fur he winces.
Ducking low, Acton enters the King's pavilion. With evident surprise, he straightens to his full height once inside. He glances around curiously as he moves aside to allow others to enter. His cloak he throws over his shoulders, but does not remove.
Once all have entered the pavilion, Dain stands to face them, clasping his hands behind his back. His desk sits between him and his audience, but he does not seat himself, as if to give evidence that, even weary, even with his white beard wagging near his ankles, he is still a king that stands proud and tall. Yet his face is lined and dark as he frowns at each face. Finally, he sighs and looks to Bifur. "Bifur, please relate the specific details of the incident, if you would. Without interruptions," the king adds, glancing at the others.
Taking a deep breath, Bifur nods respectfully to the king as he starts to pace the floor, "It began after a particularly vicious night of raids. Master Frarin was, as I mentioned, wounded in the action and sorely frustrated that we could do naught but hole up in the tunnels fer defense."
Gesturing with his right arm toward the king, Bifur grunts, "We had gotten word not ta return ta Erebor through a messenger of yers. So the lieutenant and I decided twould be best not ta leave a readily defensible position in the face of such numbers on the enemy side." Pausing for a moment, the old warrior smiles, though little mirth is evident, "Master Frarin's frustration boiled over 'n he started questionin' why we ought stay put and that it was cowardice to sit there in the tunnels. I told him that he'd stay put because I told him ta stay put and that he'd better not question me bravery. When he did so again, I put him in his place."
"Twas then that the healer rushed in, tellin' me I needed ta coddle the wounded," added Bifur with a wry grin, "And, o' course, that they followed King Dain's orders, not mine. Frarin agreed. I informed them that I was King Dain's authority in the area and that my word was as good as yours, sire."
Thari's lips are slightly parted as she watches Bifur. She indeed says nothing, but waches, brows lifted.
Broddur's head lifts as Bifur begins to speak, and he listens carefully. To the first part of the speech he shows little reaction at the final remarks, though, he lifts an eyebrow, as though he were hearing something new to him. His gaze flicks to Thari as though for confirmation.
King Dain is silent, standing like a statue with his hands behind his back. Now and again his eyes flick elsewhere, to Thari, to Broddur, to Acton, but they return to Bifur as the old warrior speaks. "You put him in his place?" he repeats with a question in his tone. "He acknowledged your authority then?" Yet even as he asks this of Bifur, the king's gaze sweeps across to Thari and he looks grim, though he waits first for Bifur to reply.
Now Thari's brows furrow. The healer frowns.
With a shrug of his shoulders, Bifur speaks in a nonchalant tone, "Acknowledged my authority only in that he was too weak ta stand up before me. But no, m'lord. As I indicated, he was under the mistaken impression that I spoke not fer the House of Durin. Though he was too weak ta respond in action, his words made that much clear."
Dain frowns deeper still, his eyes narrowing as Bifur speaks. Finally the king looks to Thari, waving for the healer to come forward more instead of lingering at the rear. "Thari, Balur's child," he rumbles deeply. "You have been very quiet, yet I recall you to have been quite outspoken in your opinions last you came before me. Have you your own side you wish to tell?"
The old war marshal folds his arms in front of himself and eyes Thari intently as she is called upon. Bifur makes not a sound, though his eyes tell quite a story, focused on Thari.
Though largely impassive throughout the interview, Acton too turns to regard the troublesome healer with some curious anticipation.
Broddur shifts his stance slightly, so that his body as well as his face is turned toward the Dwarf now addressed. As he had done while Bifur spoke earlier, he listens quietly, clasping his hands firmly in front of him to stop them itching at his regrowing beard.
"I would, sire," Thari says with a half-bow again. She steps forward, closer to Dain, and avoids Bifur's eye. "I was the one who, who said something about the House of Durin, not Frarin. The men in the tunnels were ill with the sicknesses that men get and we were trapped. The enemy had not come at us for.." she glances briefly at Bifur and lowers her eyes, cowed by his look. "..for some time. Frarin wished our dwarves to be in a safer place. I did, too. They... are my father's merchants."
Dain is immobile, his face gray and lined, but he does not look quite so foreboding as he did outside the tent. Only an occasional lifted brow betrays any thought or interest on his part. When Thari falls silent, the king glances at both Bifur and Acton. "This was the situation, as Thari has related it?"
Shaking his head, Bifur almost laughs, "Nay, my lord. I would ask how Master Frarin came ta be so wounded if the enemy had not come at us in some time? Surely the dwarves of today are not so fragile. It seems self-evident that this much is untrue." With a smirk, Bifur adds, "As ta wanting us in a safer place, we all want that. But tis under my authority that we take action. Not hers and not Frarin's."
Thari lifts her voice, "But Frarin's...." she falls silent again with a glance at Bifur.
Glancing first to Bifur, Acton clears his throat. "My lord, I was not present when Lord Bifur confronted Thari and Frarin. However, I was present when your messenger relayed your orders that all dwarves were to remain where they were and under the command of the King's Men - to aid us where they could while Dale and Erebor fought off its own attack."
"As such, I thought it best to leave their direct management to Lord Bifur. Both the healer and Frarin argued with me many times to abandon fortress. I refused. It was defensible it forced the enemy to consider its vulnerability should it try and advance further into my land, for we then would be at their rear as they faced what lie ahead."
"It is true some of my men were ill. But that is a soldier's lot and the most greviously wounded had already been evacuated along with the village's survivors."
Broddur, listening to the interplay of words between Marshall and healer, opens his lips and lets out a single, soft sigh. One hand reaches absently up toward his chin - he jerks it hastily back, and looks away from Thari. Not to Acton, though the tilt of his head suggests he is listening to the man's words, but back toward Dain.
Again Dain listens in silence, again with an unreadable expression. He is listening to Bifur when the brief start of something escapes Thari's lips and the king looks at her expectantly with brows lifted. But before she has the chance to give any explanation, Dain looks abruptly to Broddur, eyes narrowed. "Where were you in all of this, Master Broddur?"
The Dwarf-lord's question takes Broddur by surprise. Before he can help it, a startled grunt escapes his lips. He collects his thoughts hastily, though, and draws breath to speak. The words are slow and ponderous, as though they required the effort of much thought. "I was in the tunnels with the rest, Lord King. Took ..ah, a bit of damage defending the town," he keeps his hands firmly clasped to resist the urge to touch his lopsided beard, "like the silversmith did, I reckon. Anyway, like I said, I .. uh, saw a bit of an altercation between him and the Marshall. Frarin said he thought it was wrong to stay in the tunnels, asked why we were there. The marshall wasn't pleased, struck him a couple of times." He pauses for another long breath, then screws up his features and says awkwardly, looking at noone but air, "There's something I'm not understanding here. There's giving opinions and there's obeying orders. The second doesn't prevent the first. We're Dwarves, not flattering fools of M- uh." A hasty cough. "Didn't hear anyone threatening to leave /against/ orders." He stops then, having run out of both breath and inspiration, and dares to look unhappily back at the Dwarven King.
The old war marshal speaks in a low voice, "Does King Dain need ta explain every decision he makes ta every merchant and commoner?" Pausing for effect, Bifur shakes his head, "Nay. For he is our lord and king. Though matters in Ered-Luin tend ta be a bit less... formal than matters out east, that does not give one license to act in a seditious manner. Master Frarin went far beyond offering his opinion, unasked fer at that."
"Aye," agrees Acton, "And an opinion offered relentlessly becomes something more than a mere opinion - especially in times of war."
Dain tips his head forward as Broddur speaks, and when the miner mentions Bifur's having struck Frarin, the king's silver brows rise and he looks up at Bifur with a question in his gaze, though he does not interrupt Broddur. When Broddur pauses for breath and starts again, however, the dark expression on the king's face lightens ever so slightly. Perhaps amusement at the miner's rather awkward honesty? Appreciation of his willingness to register his opinion? Whatever it is, Dain straightens once more when Bifur gives his retort.
"Frarin acted in a seditious manner then? He sought to undermine your authority, Bifur?" Suddenly the king straightens and frowns deeply, as if struck by a thought. "Where is this Frarin, in any case? Why is he not here to give answer for himself?"
Thari shakes her head and her brows lower, her head bowed in thought. "Frarin acted in what he felt was the best interest for our people, sire. He always does so. He is very sensible, my kinsman. Right now, as you say, he is seeking provisions for your army. He did not anticipate me needing to speak with you in his stead," she adds apologetically. "I don't know when he will be back. He didn't know either."
At Bifur's words, Broddur tenses, his features contorting as though words are being formed behind them. "I'd hope-" He swallows the rest of the speech and stands still, breathing heavily, and not entirely able to mask his longing glance toward the door.
As Thari answers, Bifur snorts, "Frarin is not entrusted with acting in the best interests of our people. King Dain is. As are his duly authorized agents." Turning towards the king, the old warrior nods his head, "Aye, my lord. He most assuredly sought to undermine my authority as King's Marshal and to deny my role at all. I will grant that he is a good axe ta have in a fight. I wish no more than fer the merchant ta learn his place, mine and yer own, sire."
"Mm," Dain muses, the lines of his face deep beneath his white beard. "And for that reason you struck him? Nevermind, it seems as if all tempers were high during this incident," he says, not pausing to allow Bifur or any other a chance to respond. Instead the king straightens, clearing his throat. "How would you wish Frarin to learn his place, Bifur?"
Folding his arms in front of himself, Bifur stands up to his full height of just over four feet tall, speaking in a harsh, stony voice with little emotion, "Fer starters, publicly apologize fer his transgressions and pledge his service ta me as King's Marshal and Lord of the Realm in the service o' Dain Ironfoot, King Under the Mountain."
With a deep breath, the old warrior continues, "Frarin -- as well as this healer here -- are lacking in supervision, my lord. I do not contend that they harbor ill-intentions, but rather suffer from a lack of discipline. Mayhap they could learn some discipline in my service, my lord. Though, of course, I leave that to yer discretion." With that, Bifur bows deeply in front of Dain.
Once more Bifur's initial words bring a frown to Broddur's craggy features, and a stubborn light to his eyes. This time, though, any disapproval is masked by a yawn - it is getting late, after all. When his grimy hand finishes covering his mouth, it pauses to scratch absently at his chin. Just once.
Thari's eyes widen again and she shakes her head quickly. The dwarf's lips form the word 'no' but the healer says nothing.
Acton glances to Bifur in silent approval for the suggestion.
King Dain barely lifts a single brow when Bifur proclaims his wishes for Frarin and Thari's future. "In your service...hmm," he muses quietly, looking to the side of the pavilion with a sigh. "There is naught else that anyone wishes to add to clarify this incident?"
Broddur's scratching hand drops guiltily away, and he gives a single brief shake of the head.
"I have nothing more to add, my lord," Acton replies formally, shaking his head.
"All of the merchants were put in our care and our protection," Thari says, quietly, humble almost. "And if we are kept from our duties it would be to the detriment of Bundazanul and Others. We were sent by my father to see to the protection and well-being of these merchants. That, that is all I can think of, your majesty," the healer finishes with a small bow.
Bifur remains silent, even as Thari's tongue flaps further. He patiently awaits the king's decision.
"The success or failure of your father's business has no bearing of this proceeding, Thari child of Balur," Dain answers the healer. He waits a second longer for any further input, then nods gruffly. "Very well. Then hear what I say." He straightens, chin jutting out, looking very serious. "What we find ourselves in the midst of is war. It cannot be denied, nor shall it be finished in the near term. And at such times as this, the smooth fulfillment of duties and obligations is of the utmost importance, it saves lives." Dain looks at Thari before continuing. "But also at such times, emotions and tempers can run high. The ire that we save for our enemies may be unleashed upon our friends when we are sat too long in uneasy circumstances."
"At the time of this incident, the Lonely Mountain was beseiged. The state of our enemies in the south was unknown. For this reason, Bifur son of Kolfur chose what he believed to be the best place of defense at an uncertain time. And also for this reason, Frarin, and the healer Thari, forgot the prescribed establishment of our people."
Dain turns to Thari, tipping his head forward to look at the healer from under his white brows. "You and your kinsmen are not soldiers, Thari. I do not expect you to unflinchingly obey every order given you, for ours is an argumentative race. But I do expect you and your kinsmen to respect the authority that is bestowed upon Lord Bifur by myself. I do not bestow such authority lightly. To argue with it rather than reason, especially in times of war, is not acceptable." He turns then to Bifur, whom he regards with the same expression as he has Thari. "You are a skilled commander and experienced warrior, my friend. I do not now, nor have ever, regretted the authority that you command. But you have a pride that I fear may have been impinged upon in this situation. That Frarin questioned your -courage- was more likely the result of frustration than genuine belief, for there are few who might truly question it. And this is something you might have recognised."
Thari nods. Her fingers weave more tightly together, knuckles white, and she watches King Dain's face.
As the Dwarf-King speaks, Broddur ceases his fidgeting and listens, his only visible response the occasional blink. Agreement? Puzzlement? Merely weariness? Who can say.
Upon hearing the king's words directed at him, Bifur shows none of the temper that he so readily directed at Frarin and Thari. It is with an eerie serenity, entirely devoid of anger, that Bifur bows toward Dain and intones, "Perhaps so, my lord. Perhaps so."
Acton merely watches the proceedings, evidencing little emotion or opinion in these matters of dwarves.
Dain sighs, that touch of weariness in his face beginning to grow. But he does not falter, only pausing to take a breath before continuing. "That this has been a case of sedition, I do not believe. Frustration, bottled up anger, difficult physical conditions and an uncertain future are the facts of this matter. So." Such an emphasis is placed upon that last word that Dain pauses just long enough that his impending verdict is certain.
"Frarin of Barazin and Thari of Bundazanul shall both issue public apologies before myself, Lord Bifur and those dwarves present at the burning of Iach Celduin." Dain turns his gaze on Bifur. "Frarin shall, as you have requested, be placed under your service, Bifur, for a period of five years. He is not, however, to be treated as a soldier or servant, nor shall you be unjust towards him. It is not discipline that he lacks, but respect for authority and respect is not earned by beating a dwarf into submission. You are an able dwarf, Bifur, and you have said you believe Frarin to be as well - he shall assist you however you need and, in doing so, see that authority in my kingdom is not bestowed lightly and without cause. Do not be soft, but do not be cruel. At the end of these five years, he shall be free to go where he wishes."
Finally, Dain turns to Thari. "You will wish, I believe, to follow your kinsman. And well you should. He has not heard what has passed here, but you have. When he returns, you shall tell him of what I have said. The both of you have professed a great loyalty for me and have displayed also the vigour of the dwarves in your opposition to Lord Bifur. But if you wish to prove your loyalty, then you must display in equal measure the respect, the gravity of our people as well."
Thari's eyes close for a moment as if in mourning and then open again. Her head is very much bowed, beard falling past her belt. "Yes, majesty," she says quietly.
After attentively absorbing King Dain's words, Bifur nods his head slowly, "Aye, my lord. I shall heed yer words. Master Frarin is assuredly an asset ta the kingdom when properly directed. I shall try ta act with this in mind, sire. Yer attention ta these matters is greatly appreciated. If there is nothing further, I shall retire ta my tent. There are matters of logistics ta attend ta..." Having finished, Bifur bows very deeply toward Dain, "May yer beard ever grow longer, Dain Ironfoot, King Under the Mountain."
Dain nods with finality when Bifur bows deeply to him. "Upon his return, Frarin shall appoint another to direct the affairs of the merchants here in Londaroth. When that is done, his service to you shall be held as begun. Thank you all for your statements." The king gives a deep nod to those assembled before adding after Bifur, "Return at dawn on the morrow, Marshall. We have plans to set in place for our enemies." And with that, he turns away. One more thing on his to-do list to check off.
The relief on Broddur's features when the group is finally dismissed is all too apparent. He gives King Dain a jerky bow, whilst Bifur and Acton receive smaller nods - Thari, too. Then he hastily exits the richly decked pavilion, leaving only a trail of muddy bootprints.
Once outside, he makes sure that his steps take him well away from all of Marshall, healer and Dale-lands commander. As he walks he draws out his pipe, and then begins muttering. "Damn wet weed. Damn Mannish place. Damn /arguments/ ..."
Even thought the dwarven King's back is turned, Acton bows before taking his leave. "Thank you, my lord," he says ere turning on his heel and ducking out into the spring night.
This is a good-sized town, mostly populated by humans, though dwarves are a fairly common sight. Built on the west side of the River Running, Londaroth serves as the residences for the industrial works just to the north, along the foot of the waterfall that is the southern end of the Long Lake. Acres of fields and pasture-land, with cattle and sheep grazing peacefully, stretch out away from the river on both sides, an area that produces much of the food for the Dale, Esgaroth, and Erebor.
An inn, stable, and numerous shops are all built around a large central square, with houses in outlying streets. Along the river, many docks are present from where the river becomes deep enough to be navigatable again and on south past the boundries of the town. River traffic is fairly heavy. Shipments of goods from Dale are typically ported down around the waterfall, re-loaded onto barges here, and sent to points south, with the reverse process applying for boats coming up-river. Just above the docks, a large bridge crosses over to the eastern side, where a road meanders its way south.
Obvious exits:
Bridge, Into the River, NorthWest, and West
=-=-=-= Dale-Lands Time and Weather Service =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Real Time: Sun Oct 25 15:32:01 2009 MST
Dale-Lands Time:
Trewsday, midnight on a cloudy spring's night, April 11 of 3048
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Dale-Lands Time and Weather Service =-=-=-=
It is dark outside and slightly chilly, but mostly the spring evening feels damp, as if threatening rain by the morning's light. And yet the feeling in the town of Londaroth is much changed from what it was only earlier this morning, for there are new arrivals at the town. Nay, new arrivals is an underestimate. To the northwest of Londaroth are now a host of new tents, a conglomeration of new fires dotting the soft dales around the town. And at the heart of these tents is a group of larger tents, pavilions, all bearing the device of the House of Durin.
Although it is growing late, King Dain appears to be well awake, busy gaining first-hand knowledge of the situation at Londaroth and hearing of the events of previous months. He is fully clad in armour and walks carrying his blood red axe, as much for the reassurance of his soldiers as for defense. Now he is returning to the circle of pavilion tents, coming from Londaroth and followed by a number of subordinates as he weaves his way through the many tents.
Pacing back and forth among the tents outside is the short, stout figure of Bifur, clad in gleaming mail with a huge axe strapped to his back. Though his mail is spotless, his garb shows the wear of many weeks on the road. The old warrior grunts and mutters to himself even as the king approaches. When he is closer, Bifur bows deeply, befitting royalty. With a deep, rough voice, he speaks, "My lord. A good eve to ya."
Spring is here, reinforcements have arrived and the enemies to the west are quiet - plenty to be happy about, one would think. It hasn't stopped Broddur grumbling, though. The miner picks his way through the camp, squelching in the puddles and muttering under his breath. "Too open. Too muddy. Too many Menfolk underfoot. It's high time this pick of mine bit-"
His complaints fall suddenly silent as the voice of Bifur reaches his ears. He stops, squinting round to see who the Marshal is talking to ... and ducks his head in the dwarven equivalent of a bow as he realizes that Dain will pass nearby.
Thari's clothes are travel-stained too, but are clean anyway. The dwarven healer is sitting atop of a stone not too far from Bifur in a glum way. She looks up when he speaks, then stands herself and bows deeply toward Dain, speaking not.
Dain appears weary from a day of travelling and inspecting, but not entirely spent, for he lifts his chin as he catches sight of Bifur and the old warrior bows. The king nods deeply in return. "Good evening, Bifur," he greets, voice strong with a touch of tiredness. A second is spared to glance at Broddur and Thari as they both bow to him, but Dain for now only addresses Bifur. "How are you tonight, friend?"
Straightening up from his deep bow, Bifur assumes a position beside King Dain, running a hand idly through his beard. After a moment, he speaks as he gestures with his other hand towards Thari, "In truth, I am troubled, m'lord. Twas not for a minor matter that I asked fer yer ear. Of course you know well the situation these past few weeks and of our difficulties in the forces we faced. But it seems that not all our folk know their place and who they take orders from." Pausing for a few moments to glance over at Thari, he grunts, "I need not explain the dangers in such behavior to one as learned as you in the ways of war, my lord."
Broddur, glancing up from beneath bushy brows, notes the Dwarf-King's fleeting glance. A sigh escapes his lips that might well be relief - perhaps that is what bolsters him up enough to attempt conversation with Thari, who catches his eye as he looks away from the royal company. "Evening, healer," he offers with a nod and a grunt in her direction. "Suppose you've been having a quiet time of it seems to have been a lull of late."
When he catches the direction of Bifur's gesture he stiffens, scowling as though regretting having offered speech to the 'troublemaker'. One hand raises to start scratching at his chin, where new beard growth has started to cloak the scarring.
Thari arises from her bow but keeps her head down somewhat. Grey eyes do lift and the dwarven healer looks at the King's face, yet still says nothing.
A quick glance to Broddur. "Something like that," Thari mutters.
"Oh?" Dain says, brows coming together with a questioning frown. He glances at Thari when Bifur indicates her, and again when the old war marshall looks at her as he explains his reason for seeking Dain's audience. "Indeed?" the king says simply, now lifting a brow. He looks at Thari again, but still addresses neither her nor Broddur. "It is a grave situation then?" Dain says to Bifur, lowering his voice some. "That you could not have handled it yourself?"
The old war marshal takes a deep breath and taps his chin, "In truth, the healer joined in when another became seditious. The one called Frarin. Wounded from action, this merchant saw fit to question not only my military strategy and tactics, but me courage as well." Taking a few steps as he sighs, Bifur continues in a low, gravelly voice, "The merchant insisted that he would not follow orders." With his arms spread wide, the old dwarf shrugs toward the king, "I gave him a bit of... convincing. But he persisted."
As an afterthought, Bifur grunts, "Thari there came in ta defend Frarin after it already had gone too far. She said some such about not needin' ta follow my orders."
Broddur shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot as he speculates at the matter under discussion (rumour has been rife these past weeks). When the voices of King and Marshall lower he glances round surreptitiously, scowling with concentration - there's little doubt he's trying to listen. He's not subtle, Broddur.
At the mention of the name 'Frarin' he stiffens, and his scowl becomes the lowered brows and screwed-up features that signify perplexity. When the Marshall's speech is done, he dares quirk a brow at Thari and mutter, "What's all that about, then?" The fact she might be rather too preoccupied to answer does not even occur to him.
"Frarin my kinsman," Thari is very hestiant to speak and makes a brief gesture here, "was trying to save us. He is a wise dwarf, much older than me." The healer looks at Broddur, gives a shy nod of her head, but doesn't answer.
Turning quickly to Thari, Bifur's eyes light up and he speaks in a harsh, loud voice, "You will be silent until you are asked for your input, healer." His voice softening considerably, Bifur turns back to King Dain and sighs, "My apologies, my lord. You see though, the problems this one has with her tongue?"
Dain's brows rise properly now and he draws a breath, eyes briefly lifting to the dark sky just past Bifur's shoulder as if this is yet one more worry to add to the king's growing list. "Frarin," Dain repeats at a grumble. "Of Barazin, yes? I have heard his name, I believe. And Thari, Balur's child if I recall." At this last he turns finally to address Thari, pausing when she speaks up and again when Bifur rebukes her. "Let him speak, Bifur," Dain rumbles wearily. "He will do so shortly in any case."
Then the king abruptly turns to Broddur, a dwarf much older than Thari. And clearly recently injured. "You are Frarin of Barazin then?" he asks in a foreboding voice.
The old war marshal nods his head at Dain's question, "Aye, m'lord. Frarin of the Barazin." With a withering glance over at Thari, Bifur grunts, "I would add, m'lord, that I would've dealt with the matter immediately. Unfortunately, the military situation was such that I couldn't spare their axes. And so, I informed them both that they would answer ta the king when we were back."
Broddur's perplexed expression is growing, and his lips are pressed tight shut as though to prevent any words bursting out to condemn him. From his quivering stance it's pretty clear he wants to say /something/.
At Dain's query he looks up, startled, and then slowly shakes his head. "No, my King. I am Broddur son of Brandur, from the Blue Mountains. But," he hesitates then takes a deep breath, "reckon I witnessed part of the incident in question. Though I don't know about the not following orders ..." He grimaces, the motion puckering the healing scars.
Thari pulls back a bit as Bifur rebukes her. She folds her hands together over her belt, where the ends of her beard nearly reach. Her head is bowed again and she watches the King with an expression that becomes more alarmed by the moment.
A tall mannish figure makes his way through the night-dimmed dwarven encampment. Young Lieutenant Acton stops when he reaches the King's tent, standing respectfully upon the edge of this gathering. His eyes find the grizzled Bifur and he nods once in greeting ere turning his regard to the King.
"Mm," Dain grunts thoughtfully to Bifur, though his eyes remain fixed upon Thari and Broddur. A silver brow raises in interest when Broddur explains his presence during the incident, and then continues to give a brief opinion. After a second's silence, Dain frowns and gives a single nod to himself. "Very well. All of you come into my tent and we shall sort this matter out in private." Yet as the dwarf king turns towards his tent, the largest of the royal pavilions, he pauses when a young man, clearly of Dale, appears. Apparently believing the man to be some messenger of sorts, Dain frowns at him. "Yes?"
Glancing over toward the Dale-lander, Bifur nods slightly and addresses the king, "Sire, the lieutenant is here at my request, having been an integral part of matters since the fall of their captain at the bridge some time ago." Gesturing to Acton with his hand, he nods his head expectantly at the human.
At the Dwarf-King's command Broddur freezes, but as he turns toward the tent he utters a subdued, "Aye, my lord King."
The arrival of Acton grants him reprieve from questioning for now he does not attempt to intrude on /this/ conversation, but under cover of the distraction he mutters very quietly under his breath, "Should have kept my mouth shut."
"My lord," greets the young man, bowing low to Dain. "I am Lieutenant Acton of the King's Men. I was the ranking officer at Iach Celduin after the death of General Gelbard and then again after the departure of Captain Lorthrain."
"As Lord Bifur has explained. I am here at his request. I believe you are addressing concerns over a number of your people placed under..." the young man pauses briefly, looking very self-conscious, "...my command."
Thari releases a breath of air, almost like a bit of laugh after Broddur speaks. The healer glances at Acton.
"Ah," Dain says business-like, nodding at first Bifur's introduction and then Acton's explanation. "Very well, very well, come in as well, Lieutenant." The king sweeps aside the flap of his tent and enters the roomy pavilion. It is very well furnished, with rugs and furs upon the ground and ceiling, a bed on one side behind a cloth partition and a desk and chair at the centre. Dain rests his axe against the side of his desk and removes his cloak.
After the king, Bifur enters the pavilion, removing his golden cloak and stepping aside to make room for the others to enter. He pauses to examine the road grime that has built up and shakes his head momentarily.
Thari follows Bifur in at a cautious distance. The healer stops closer to the wall of the tent than the desk.
Broddur, looking even less happy as the human is invited to join them, waits until all those outranking him have entered before stepping into the pavilion. Once inside, he halts as near the entrance he can, staring down at his feet. At the sight of the lumps of mud he's shed on the fine fur he winces.
Ducking low, Acton enters the King's pavilion. With evident surprise, he straightens to his full height once inside. He glances around curiously as he moves aside to allow others to enter. His cloak he throws over his shoulders, but does not remove.
Once all have entered the pavilion, Dain stands to face them, clasping his hands behind his back. His desk sits between him and his audience, but he does not seat himself, as if to give evidence that, even weary, even with his white beard wagging near his ankles, he is still a king that stands proud and tall. Yet his face is lined and dark as he frowns at each face. Finally, he sighs and looks to Bifur. "Bifur, please relate the specific details of the incident, if you would. Without interruptions," the king adds, glancing at the others.
Taking a deep breath, Bifur nods respectfully to the king as he starts to pace the floor, "It began after a particularly vicious night of raids. Master Frarin was, as I mentioned, wounded in the action and sorely frustrated that we could do naught but hole up in the tunnels fer defense."
Gesturing with his right arm toward the king, Bifur grunts, "We had gotten word not ta return ta Erebor through a messenger of yers. So the lieutenant and I decided twould be best not ta leave a readily defensible position in the face of such numbers on the enemy side." Pausing for a moment, the old warrior smiles, though little mirth is evident, "Master Frarin's frustration boiled over 'n he started questionin' why we ought stay put and that it was cowardice to sit there in the tunnels. I told him that he'd stay put because I told him ta stay put and that he'd better not question me bravery. When he did so again, I put him in his place."
"Twas then that the healer rushed in, tellin' me I needed ta coddle the wounded," added Bifur with a wry grin, "And, o' course, that they followed King Dain's orders, not mine. Frarin agreed. I informed them that I was King Dain's authority in the area and that my word was as good as yours, sire."
Thari's lips are slightly parted as she watches Bifur. She indeed says nothing, but waches, brows lifted.
Broddur's head lifts as Bifur begins to speak, and he listens carefully. To the first part of the speech he shows little reaction at the final remarks, though, he lifts an eyebrow, as though he were hearing something new to him. His gaze flicks to Thari as though for confirmation.
King Dain is silent, standing like a statue with his hands behind his back. Now and again his eyes flick elsewhere, to Thari, to Broddur, to Acton, but they return to Bifur as the old warrior speaks. "You put him in his place?" he repeats with a question in his tone. "He acknowledged your authority then?" Yet even as he asks this of Bifur, the king's gaze sweeps across to Thari and he looks grim, though he waits first for Bifur to reply.
Now Thari's brows furrow. The healer frowns.
With a shrug of his shoulders, Bifur speaks in a nonchalant tone, "Acknowledged my authority only in that he was too weak ta stand up before me. But no, m'lord. As I indicated, he was under the mistaken impression that I spoke not fer the House of Durin. Though he was too weak ta respond in action, his words made that much clear."
Dain frowns deeper still, his eyes narrowing as Bifur speaks. Finally the king looks to Thari, waving for the healer to come forward more instead of lingering at the rear. "Thari, Balur's child," he rumbles deeply. "You have been very quiet, yet I recall you to have been quite outspoken in your opinions last you came before me. Have you your own side you wish to tell?"
The old war marshal folds his arms in front of himself and eyes Thari intently as she is called upon. Bifur makes not a sound, though his eyes tell quite a story, focused on Thari.
Though largely impassive throughout the interview, Acton too turns to regard the troublesome healer with some curious anticipation.
Broddur shifts his stance slightly, so that his body as well as his face is turned toward the Dwarf now addressed. As he had done while Bifur spoke earlier, he listens quietly, clasping his hands firmly in front of him to stop them itching at his regrowing beard.
"I would, sire," Thari says with a half-bow again. She steps forward, closer to Dain, and avoids Bifur's eye. "I was the one who, who said something about the House of Durin, not Frarin. The men in the tunnels were ill with the sicknesses that men get and we were trapped. The enemy had not come at us for.." she glances briefly at Bifur and lowers her eyes, cowed by his look. "..for some time. Frarin wished our dwarves to be in a safer place. I did, too. They... are my father's merchants."
Dain is immobile, his face gray and lined, but he does not look quite so foreboding as he did outside the tent. Only an occasional lifted brow betrays any thought or interest on his part. When Thari falls silent, the king glances at both Bifur and Acton. "This was the situation, as Thari has related it?"
Shaking his head, Bifur almost laughs, "Nay, my lord. I would ask how Master Frarin came ta be so wounded if the enemy had not come at us in some time? Surely the dwarves of today are not so fragile. It seems self-evident that this much is untrue." With a smirk, Bifur adds, "As ta wanting us in a safer place, we all want that. But tis under my authority that we take action. Not hers and not Frarin's."
Thari lifts her voice, "But Frarin's...." she falls silent again with a glance at Bifur.
Glancing first to Bifur, Acton clears his throat. "My lord, I was not present when Lord Bifur confronted Thari and Frarin. However, I was present when your messenger relayed your orders that all dwarves were to remain where they were and under the command of the King's Men - to aid us where they could while Dale and Erebor fought off its own attack."
"As such, I thought it best to leave their direct management to Lord Bifur. Both the healer and Frarin argued with me many times to abandon fortress. I refused. It was defensible it forced the enemy to consider its vulnerability should it try and advance further into my land, for we then would be at their rear as they faced what lie ahead."
"It is true some of my men were ill. But that is a soldier's lot and the most greviously wounded had already been evacuated along with the village's survivors."
Broddur, listening to the interplay of words between Marshall and healer, opens his lips and lets out a single, soft sigh. One hand reaches absently up toward his chin - he jerks it hastily back, and looks away from Thari. Not to Acton, though the tilt of his head suggests he is listening to the man's words, but back toward Dain.
Again Dain listens in silence, again with an unreadable expression. He is listening to Bifur when the brief start of something escapes Thari's lips and the king looks at her expectantly with brows lifted. But before she has the chance to give any explanation, Dain looks abruptly to Broddur, eyes narrowed. "Where were you in all of this, Master Broddur?"
The Dwarf-lord's question takes Broddur by surprise. Before he can help it, a startled grunt escapes his lips. He collects his thoughts hastily, though, and draws breath to speak. The words are slow and ponderous, as though they required the effort of much thought. "I was in the tunnels with the rest, Lord King. Took ..ah, a bit of damage defending the town," he keeps his hands firmly clasped to resist the urge to touch his lopsided beard, "like the silversmith did, I reckon. Anyway, like I said, I .. uh, saw a bit of an altercation between him and the Marshall. Frarin said he thought it was wrong to stay in the tunnels, asked why we were there. The marshall wasn't pleased, struck him a couple of times." He pauses for another long breath, then screws up his features and says awkwardly, looking at noone but air, "There's something I'm not understanding here. There's giving opinions and there's obeying orders. The second doesn't prevent the first. We're Dwarves, not flattering fools of M- uh." A hasty cough. "Didn't hear anyone threatening to leave /against/ orders." He stops then, having run out of both breath and inspiration, and dares to look unhappily back at the Dwarven King.
The old war marshal speaks in a low voice, "Does King Dain need ta explain every decision he makes ta every merchant and commoner?" Pausing for effect, Bifur shakes his head, "Nay. For he is our lord and king. Though matters in Ered-Luin tend ta be a bit less... formal than matters out east, that does not give one license to act in a seditious manner. Master Frarin went far beyond offering his opinion, unasked fer at that."
"Aye," agrees Acton, "And an opinion offered relentlessly becomes something more than a mere opinion - especially in times of war."
Dain tips his head forward as Broddur speaks, and when the miner mentions Bifur's having struck Frarin, the king's silver brows rise and he looks up at Bifur with a question in his gaze, though he does not interrupt Broddur. When Broddur pauses for breath and starts again, however, the dark expression on the king's face lightens ever so slightly. Perhaps amusement at the miner's rather awkward honesty? Appreciation of his willingness to register his opinion? Whatever it is, Dain straightens once more when Bifur gives his retort.
"Frarin acted in a seditious manner then? He sought to undermine your authority, Bifur?" Suddenly the king straightens and frowns deeply, as if struck by a thought. "Where is this Frarin, in any case? Why is he not here to give answer for himself?"
Thari shakes her head and her brows lower, her head bowed in thought. "Frarin acted in what he felt was the best interest for our people, sire. He always does so. He is very sensible, my kinsman. Right now, as you say, he is seeking provisions for your army. He did not anticipate me needing to speak with you in his stead," she adds apologetically. "I don't know when he will be back. He didn't know either."
At Bifur's words, Broddur tenses, his features contorting as though words are being formed behind them. "I'd hope-" He swallows the rest of the speech and stands still, breathing heavily, and not entirely able to mask his longing glance toward the door.
As Thari answers, Bifur snorts, "Frarin is not entrusted with acting in the best interests of our people. King Dain is. As are his duly authorized agents." Turning towards the king, the old warrior nods his head, "Aye, my lord. He most assuredly sought to undermine my authority as King's Marshal and to deny my role at all. I will grant that he is a good axe ta have in a fight. I wish no more than fer the merchant ta learn his place, mine and yer own, sire."
"Mm," Dain muses, the lines of his face deep beneath his white beard. "And for that reason you struck him? Nevermind, it seems as if all tempers were high during this incident," he says, not pausing to allow Bifur or any other a chance to respond. Instead the king straightens, clearing his throat. "How would you wish Frarin to learn his place, Bifur?"
Folding his arms in front of himself, Bifur stands up to his full height of just over four feet tall, speaking in a harsh, stony voice with little emotion, "Fer starters, publicly apologize fer his transgressions and pledge his service ta me as King's Marshal and Lord of the Realm in the service o' Dain Ironfoot, King Under the Mountain."
With a deep breath, the old warrior continues, "Frarin -- as well as this healer here -- are lacking in supervision, my lord. I do not contend that they harbor ill-intentions, but rather suffer from a lack of discipline. Mayhap they could learn some discipline in my service, my lord. Though, of course, I leave that to yer discretion." With that, Bifur bows deeply in front of Dain.
Once more Bifur's initial words bring a frown to Broddur's craggy features, and a stubborn light to his eyes. This time, though, any disapproval is masked by a yawn - it is getting late, after all. When his grimy hand finishes covering his mouth, it pauses to scratch absently at his chin. Just once.
Thari's eyes widen again and she shakes her head quickly. The dwarf's lips form the word 'no' but the healer says nothing.
Acton glances to Bifur in silent approval for the suggestion.
King Dain barely lifts a single brow when Bifur proclaims his wishes for Frarin and Thari's future. "In your service...hmm," he muses quietly, looking to the side of the pavilion with a sigh. "There is naught else that anyone wishes to add to clarify this incident?"
Broddur's scratching hand drops guiltily away, and he gives a single brief shake of the head.
"I have nothing more to add, my lord," Acton replies formally, shaking his head.
"All of the merchants were put in our care and our protection," Thari says, quietly, humble almost. "And if we are kept from our duties it would be to the detriment of Bundazanul and Others. We were sent by my father to see to the protection and well-being of these merchants. That, that is all I can think of, your majesty," the healer finishes with a small bow.
Bifur remains silent, even as Thari's tongue flaps further. He patiently awaits the king's decision.
"The success or failure of your father's business has no bearing of this proceeding, Thari child of Balur," Dain answers the healer. He waits a second longer for any further input, then nods gruffly. "Very well. Then hear what I say." He straightens, chin jutting out, looking very serious. "What we find ourselves in the midst of is war. It cannot be denied, nor shall it be finished in the near term. And at such times as this, the smooth fulfillment of duties and obligations is of the utmost importance, it saves lives." Dain looks at Thari before continuing. "But also at such times, emotions and tempers can run high. The ire that we save for our enemies may be unleashed upon our friends when we are sat too long in uneasy circumstances."
"At the time of this incident, the Lonely Mountain was beseiged. The state of our enemies in the south was unknown. For this reason, Bifur son of Kolfur chose what he believed to be the best place of defense at an uncertain time. And also for this reason, Frarin, and the healer Thari, forgot the prescribed establishment of our people."
Dain turns to Thari, tipping his head forward to look at the healer from under his white brows. "You and your kinsmen are not soldiers, Thari. I do not expect you to unflinchingly obey every order given you, for ours is an argumentative race. But I do expect you and your kinsmen to respect the authority that is bestowed upon Lord Bifur by myself. I do not bestow such authority lightly. To argue with it rather than reason, especially in times of war, is not acceptable." He turns then to Bifur, whom he regards with the same expression as he has Thari. "You are a skilled commander and experienced warrior, my friend. I do not now, nor have ever, regretted the authority that you command. But you have a pride that I fear may have been impinged upon in this situation. That Frarin questioned your -courage- was more likely the result of frustration than genuine belief, for there are few who might truly question it. And this is something you might have recognised."
Thari nods. Her fingers weave more tightly together, knuckles white, and she watches King Dain's face.
As the Dwarf-King speaks, Broddur ceases his fidgeting and listens, his only visible response the occasional blink. Agreement? Puzzlement? Merely weariness? Who can say.
Upon hearing the king's words directed at him, Bifur shows none of the temper that he so readily directed at Frarin and Thari. It is with an eerie serenity, entirely devoid of anger, that Bifur bows toward Dain and intones, "Perhaps so, my lord. Perhaps so."
Acton merely watches the proceedings, evidencing little emotion or opinion in these matters of dwarves.
Dain sighs, that touch of weariness in his face beginning to grow. But he does not falter, only pausing to take a breath before continuing. "That this has been a case of sedition, I do not believe. Frustration, bottled up anger, difficult physical conditions and an uncertain future are the facts of this matter. So." Such an emphasis is placed upon that last word that Dain pauses just long enough that his impending verdict is certain.
"Frarin of Barazin and Thari of Bundazanul shall both issue public apologies before myself, Lord Bifur and those dwarves present at the burning of Iach Celduin." Dain turns his gaze on Bifur. "Frarin shall, as you have requested, be placed under your service, Bifur, for a period of five years. He is not, however, to be treated as a soldier or servant, nor shall you be unjust towards him. It is not discipline that he lacks, but respect for authority and respect is not earned by beating a dwarf into submission. You are an able dwarf, Bifur, and you have said you believe Frarin to be as well - he shall assist you however you need and, in doing so, see that authority in my kingdom is not bestowed lightly and without cause. Do not be soft, but do not be cruel. At the end of these five years, he shall be free to go where he wishes."
Finally, Dain turns to Thari. "You will wish, I believe, to follow your kinsman. And well you should. He has not heard what has passed here, but you have. When he returns, you shall tell him of what I have said. The both of you have professed a great loyalty for me and have displayed also the vigour of the dwarves in your opposition to Lord Bifur. But if you wish to prove your loyalty, then you must display in equal measure the respect, the gravity of our people as well."
Thari's eyes close for a moment as if in mourning and then open again. Her head is very much bowed, beard falling past her belt. "Yes, majesty," she says quietly.
After attentively absorbing King Dain's words, Bifur nods his head slowly, "Aye, my lord. I shall heed yer words. Master Frarin is assuredly an asset ta the kingdom when properly directed. I shall try ta act with this in mind, sire. Yer attention ta these matters is greatly appreciated. If there is nothing further, I shall retire ta my tent. There are matters of logistics ta attend ta..." Having finished, Bifur bows very deeply toward Dain, "May yer beard ever grow longer, Dain Ironfoot, King Under the Mountain."
Dain nods with finality when Bifur bows deeply to him. "Upon his return, Frarin shall appoint another to direct the affairs of the merchants here in Londaroth. When that is done, his service to you shall be held as begun. Thank you all for your statements." The king gives a deep nod to those assembled before adding after Bifur, "Return at dawn on the morrow, Marshall. We have plans to set in place for our enemies." And with that, he turns away. One more thing on his to-do list to check off.
The relief on Broddur's features when the group is finally dismissed is all too apparent. He gives King Dain a jerky bow, whilst Bifur and Acton receive smaller nods - Thari, too. Then he hastily exits the richly decked pavilion, leaving only a trail of muddy bootprints.
Once outside, he makes sure that his steps take him well away from all of Marshall, healer and Dale-lands commander. As he walks he draws out his pipe, and then begins muttering. "Damn wet weed. Damn Mannish place. Damn /arguments/ ..."
Even thought the dwarven King's back is turned, Acton bows before taking his leave. "Thank you, my lord," he says ere turning on his heel and ducking out into the spring night.
Players: Dain, Bifur, Broddur, Thari, Acton, Frarin
