Where Are All the Dwarf Women At?

[Frarin(#31050)] Late afternoon and the Beorning village is hot and humid, but the harshest of the sunlight has at least seen fit to recede, and even a light breeze crops up now and again to relieve the heat. The marketplace is busy still, even as evening approaches, and today there are more than a few visitors roaming it. The men of Dale and dwarves of Erebor have been frequent sights at the market of late, buying or plying their own wares amidst the Beornings, and today is no exception.

Frarin Forlisson weaves through the bustling crowds, eyes roving along the stalls as if searching for something. He chews on the end of a long pipe which he cups in one hand, while the other he holds in a fist against his back as he meanders through the taller crowds. A leather bag hangs from one shoulder.

\"Now what wares of Beorning could a dwarf possibly seek?\" asks a deep voice of one who has suddenly come up behind the dwarf Frarin--Mobeorn, despite his size, somehow managing to slip between the market stalls to come behind the dwarf. His manner is not threatening--in fact, he wears a smile.

\"Certainly not our ale. Our mead? our craftsmanship...I think not. Ah!....honeycakes it must be?\"

[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin turns with a cocked brow and a mildly amused look at the sound of Mobeorn\'s voice and places a hand on his hip while the man attempts to guess at the dwarf\'s business in the market. \"Indeed you are mistaken, Master Mobeorn,\" Frarin replies, giving a small smile. \"For I have want of all three, indeed even your honey cakes, whatever you may believe of the heavy tastes of dwarves. But this day I seek none of them, I am afraid. My object is far more mundane, for I seek candles and nought more. How fare you, Master Mobeorn?\"

\"Candles it is? Well, they are far more easily obtained than our honeycakes, which our folks are loathe to share. Nor will you ever earn teh recipe from any of us,\" Mobeorn grins, showing a row of gleaming white teeth. \"But for candles, we have the finest beeswax, as you might imagine.\"

\"As for my health, thank you, I fare well. And the mountains are strangely quiet.\"

[Hildis(#23062)] Another dwarf follows more slowly meandering between the stalls, he carries a soft leather bag looped over his shoulder that bulges with edges of small boxes. He curls and uncurls a braid in his long red beard while contemplating a row of homemade cheeses glistening under cheesecloth then moves on, head down unaware that Frarin moves on ahead of him till he looks up. A curious expression crosses Hildis\'s face when he sights Frarin talking to the huge man he sees frequently going about his business in the village. Some decision is reached because with a hand steadying his bag he takes a few quick steps to join him, then waits with the innate politeness of all dwarves for them to finish their business before hailing them.

\"Are they?\" Frarin says, brows lifting, his tone growing slightly more serious but not overly grim. \"Well, that is good to hear. I should have hoped they had quieted some since our last journey over them. Aye, that is well indeed.\" A movement to his side catches the silversmith\'s eye and he turns to see Hildis standing by. \"Ah, good day, Hildis,\" says Frarin, nodding to the merchant.

\"For the moment.\" Mobeorn shrugs then looks down from his height at the waiting dwarf before him. \"Good afternoon Hildis son of....\" He scratches his chin. \"Are all dwarves men? I never see your women folk.\"

[Hildis(#23062)] One eyebrow shoots up and the pleased expression of someone who has been waiting the moment to tell a good joke gleams in Hildis\'s green eyes. He clears his throat, \"Why, they seldom travel outside of our mountain. They feel and we all incur that their beauty would be...should, well, best kept for themselves. They,\" he lowers his voice, \"do have rather wonderful beards. But enough on that subject, eh?\" The question does not invite anymore comment.

\"Master Frarin, what brings you to the market this fine day?\" He leans over and sniffs at the array of honeyed cakes.

[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin looks up at Mobeorn with an off-handed expression, but it is Hildis who receives a sharp look, especially at the mention of beards. The silversmith coughs. \"Aye, well,\" he says to Mobeorn, \"any dwarves -you- ever see shall be men.\" And that is left quite abruptly at that. Indeed, he quickly takes up the chance of subject. \"I am seeking candles, in fact, and a new flint. Yourself?\"

�\"Beards! Women with...beards?!\" Mobeorn\'s voice booms across the marketplace. He stares at Hildis, blinking. \"Candles...right...over there...\" A hand is waved absently to Frarin.

[Hildis(#23062)] \"Ahem,\" Hildis replies much more quietly. \"No different than a bear pelt, I\'d imagine.\" He blinks innocently then points to a cake. \"How much are they?\"

[Frarin(#31050)] Despite Mobeorn\'s distracted aid in locating the candles, Frarin doesn\'t move an inch, instead remaining quite still and looking at neither Hildis nor Mobeorn but straight ahead. He coughs again. \"Well, they\'re...not...beards like, like you might recognise them. As such. Aye...like you have a pelt. Most dwarves would think that...strange too.\" His words are wooden, but he does force a smile after another sharp look at Hildis. Still he doesn\'t move to find those candles.

Eirdis strolls along, axe in its loop on his belt. The healer is limping slightly, the action a remnant of his spar with Gimli the other day. Squinting, he recognises Frarin and Hildis, along with Mobeorn the skin-shifter, or somesuch. Limping slightly faster, he makes his way over and raises a hand. \"Hail, cousins, and Master Beorning! Pleasant enough evening, I suppose..\"

\"Pelts...you mean your women turn into...bears?\" Mobeorn asks, looking at the dwarves wtih renewed interest. \"Greetings...\" his wave to Eirdis is distracted by this all-important topic.

Eirdis isn\'t exactly conscious of his.. Her, rather, but that\'s beside the point.. Jaw dropping, and squints. Next, she stares at Hildis with a look of shock on her face. \"W-women? .... Cousin, what..?!\" She gapes at Frarin, wondering how in all hells -this- came into conversation.

[+POLL] Announcement: Mobeorn(#22365) has changed the poll to: Dorf-women: They\'re bear-men!

[Hildis(#23062)] After Frarin\'s sharp look Hildis shrugs noncommittally and hums the snatch of a recognizable dwarf ballad, \'Romance of the Caverns\' which he interrupts to return Eirdi\'s greeting. \"Hail and well met, Master Eirdis.

He narrows his eyes but barks an unwilling laugh at the Beorning essay at getting more out of them about dwraf women. \"Pelts! I said they were beautiful. Er, beards, no pelts. I thought you were conversant with pelts, good sir.\" Still smiling he asks, \"These candles, do they really burn so bright, Master Beorning?\"

[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin continues in that very still pose, looking straight ahead as if moving less might make this unhappy situation go away. Fortunately, Eirdis soon arrives to change the subject. \"Aye, women!\" says the silversmith abruptly, as if nothing were more common in the world. \"And the differences between dwarves and Beornings and other such nonsense. How are you, cousin? What brings you to the market? Have you met Master Mobeorn here? Master Mobeorn, do you know Master Eirdis?\"

\"Well met, Master Eirdis,\" Mobeorn nods. Then, like a bear struggling to keep a salmon in its grip, he turns back to Hildis, not letting go of the topic. \"Pelts and beards are very different thing, Master dwarf. For one thing, dwarves are not hunted for their beards? Or are they? For another...the women of my kind, when they are in this form, do not have pelts. Nor beards.\"

\"Candles...aye..they burn.\" That given vaguely as a reply to Frarin.

Eirdis looks from Hildis to Mobeorn to Frarin to Hildis and back to Frarin, mouth moving but no sound coming out. Obviously, the healer is in shock at the topic of discussion. \"Ah.. Well, er... Why so curious, Master Mobeorn, if I may ask? There are male and female birds, bears, foxes... What would be so unnerving about..\" She just plain shuts up now, knowing she might say something.

[Hildis(#23062)] Hildis shrugs his shoulders like a salmon broaching the water into freedom and smiles vaguely. \"So the world goes. Each to his own, and to each his own tastes. And I have a taste for honey cakes and bright lights.\" He swings the bag forward that has been banging his hip and opens the flap. \"Perhaps we could trade.\"

[Frarin(#31050)] \"Aye, -nothing- to speak about it, tis a mundane topic indeed,\" Frarin grits out, forcing another smile at Mobeorn and again ignoring the man\'s distracted comment about candles. \"Aye, trade, let us trade, mm?\"

\"Why so curious?!\" Mobeorn booms again, though he grins. \"WHy a woman with a beard! of course! And a dwarven woman at that! You folks are so closed lipped about things, but now it makes me wonder....\" he says and he peers more closely at ....Frarin...apparently trying to decide from the dwarf\'s beard and face if he is a he or a she.

\"Honeycakes? Now...\" the Beorning waves a finger at Hildis. \"We don\'t trade honeycakes, nor do we give out the recipes. Nor do we sell them. They\'re ours and ours alone and even so among ourselves they are a great and rare treat. So...\" Still, he peers with curiosity into the bag.

[+POLL] Announcement: Hildis(#23062) has changed the poll to: Fraaaarin, iza giiiiirul! Nyah, nyah.

[Devora(#21935)] Devora wanders towards the group, coming from the direction of the elf camp. Her bearing and height give away her elvish origin, her simple garb of leggings, tunic and belt with hanging bags reveal her position as a healer. Cautiously she approaches the group, a basket of rare berries under her arm.

Eirdis chews his lower lip and mutters under his breath, \"Humans, such nosy folk...\" Raising his voice, he smiles and opens his healer\'s satchel, \"Ah, trade, indeed! Master Mobeorn, I have here some dried chamomile, willow bark, oh, and some rather rare moss that can be used in an infusion or poultice to nearly completely cure infection of the flesh or blood... Very rare, yes indeed.\"

[Hildis(#23062)] Hildis, the dwarf merchant smacks his lips and shrugs though not without a sidelong glance at Frarin. \"For once, I would say, my loss. But! I have beautiful handcarved seals for stamping missives or documents of trade. Each different and each made with the skill that our stonesmiths are renown for...\" He reaches into the bag and brings out a rectangular stone of translucent blue wrapped in parchment. He unwraps the parchment with quick care. It is stamped with an intricate stylized salmon jumping from a stream.

[Frarin(#31050)] At first Frarin only glances at Mobeorn when the man fixes very intently on staring at the silversmith, but when he does not look away, Frarin turns to look the man square in the face, a frown and a challenge in his expression. Still brooding, he mutters quietly, \"You would recognise our women, Master Mobeorn. They look as different from a man as your women do from you.\"

Mahal be blessed for a multitude of different subjects, for fortunately Eirdis and Hildis launch into attempts to change the discussion and then Frarin looks up and catches sight of Devora. \"My lady elf,\" says the silversmith with a polite bow.

[Devora(#21935)] Devora watches the group, a slight smile playing about her thin lips. She notices the handicraft of Hildis, as well as the medicinal ware of Eirdis. Despite the fact that they are dwarves, she is drawn towards the group, as the conversation is lively, and the wares pleasing. Pushing her long blonde hair behind her ears, she bows slightly in acknowledgement to Frarin.

\"AH! Well, then why didn\'t you say so in the first place, Master Frarin!\" Mobeorn grins. \"I would well like to meet some of your women folk should the chance ever come to it. They must be strong women to put up wtih the likes of you men.\" And he grins even wider, chuckling to himself.

\"A fish? In stone? On parchment? What good what that do....I can\'t eat it and sturdy as dwarven crafts are, it\'s not a mighty weapon against an orc. Yet...Thranduil\'s folk might be interested in such. Or in the herbs and grasses and such...\" The shapeshifter gestures vaguely to the dwarven goods and then toward Devora. \"Here\'s an elven lass now...step on over now, Miss. I can assure you that the dwarves will be nothing but polite.\"

\"Wont\' you now...\" It\'s a low growl.

[Devora(#21935)]� Devora laughs softly, then answers Frarin, \"Master Frarin. Good day to you all. Yes, the goods are tempting today, but I am lookinf for a special herb, one found only in this region. \" Her blonde hair glitters and her eyes twinkle as she acknowledges the dwarves.

[Hildis(#23062)] \"Why Master Beorning, it is very handy for those of your people who might not only want to afix only an X to a document.\" He gazes up pleasantly at the huge man for a moment then takes a step back to give a short but polite bow to the elven woman.

\"Well met,\" he mutters.

Eirdis bows low to the elven woman, recognising a potential customer when he sees one. \"Ah, Milday Elf, I have in fact been gathering in the area recently. What is it, exactly, you are searching for? I might have it dried, or fresh, if you desire.\"

[Devora(#21935)]� Devora turns her gaze to Eirdis, and smiles gently. \"Master Dwarf, I am searching for a white flower that grows only under the spring beech tree, near the river. It is of great value in curing digestive problems, though hard to come by, and only during a brief period each year\".She glances with obvious curiosity at the seals carried by the other dwarf.

[Frarin(#31050)] \"Ah but the dwarves are always polite, Master Mobeorn,\" Frarin says, his tone immensely changed. It is lighter now, no longer tense at the discussion, and the silversmith even smiles pleasantly. There is perhaps a touch of an edge in his words, as if to encourage politeness from Hildis and Eirdis towards Devora, but he need hardly have added such an edge it seems, for Eirdis is quick to offer the elf his services. Frarin, for his part, rocks back on the balls of his feet but says nothing.

\"They can be, they can be,\" Mobeorn returns to Frarin, the beijabar somehow in a pleasant mood today--perhaps it\'s the discussion of dwarven women.

\"White flower..by the river..beech tree..and it blooms this time of year? I can swim upriver and look for it if you like, lass,\" are his words to Devora.

And lastly, back to the discussion of the seal, which makes Mobeorn twist up his nose. \"An X? Why a man\'s word is as good as his mark here--better, for there is no need for putting your mark to any old piece of parchment. But...you could try the Tree or Eagle clan skalds. They\'re forever scratching quill to parchment.\"

Eirdis glances blandly at Mobeorn, just the barest hint of a twinge of his lips present to display his ire of having a potential customer stolen away, and by a Man, yet. Think of the alliegance possibilities! \"Ahem.. Alow me to search my satchel here, Milday, I will be but a moment.. However, I forget my manners.\" He bows low to the elf again, and says with a warm smile, \"Eirdis, son of Jarl, Healer of Mazarbul of Erebor, at you service.\"

[Devora(#21935)] Devora\'s laughter is like the tinkling of a small brook. \'Ah, Master Mobeorn, I have no doubt that you are as good as your word. But there is no need of swimming. \" She turns to Eirdis, and with a respectful bow, acknowledges the dwarf. \"I am Devora, of the Woodland Realm. It is not often that I have contact with the world beyound our own.I, too, am a healer ,but young and inexperienced for one of my kind. \"

[Hildis(#23062)] The merchant does not add his name and lineage but takes Eirdi\'s cue and bows pleasantly. The stamp is still in his broad hand which he extends to the elven woman. \"The carving is among the best from our clan. Who,\" he looks pointedly at the Beorning with a smile hooking up one side of his mouth before continuing, \"make nothing of putting quill to parchment to write a little something.\"

Eirdis nods and smiles, rummaging through his satchel, brow furrowed in concentration. Finally, he exclaims, \"Aha! I knew I had it around here someplace.. Aye, took me a long time to find its uses in my apothecary\'s notes...\" Bowing low again, he takes a small white suede bag with a gold slipknot closing it and holds it up for Devora\'s inspection. \"I believe this is your muse, Milady? Quite the darling little flo\'r, indeed.\"

[Devora(#21935)] Devora first reaches out for the stamp, and turns it gently in her delicate hand. \"This is quite beautiful, Master Dwarf. Indeed, I have seen nothing like it. \' Her attention then turns to Eirdis, and her expression becomes almost greedy. She reaches out with a slight tremble for the satchel, while handing back the stamp. \"Oh, my,\" she gasps. \"I do believe this is the object of my quest. What would you desire in return, master Dwarf?\"

�\"As I said,\" Mobeorn shrugs, \"some of our folk in the village put quill to parchment, but I never saw a need for it. Takes time out of more important things, if you ask me. How\'s a man to find time to hunt goblins if he\'s hunched over a paper all day?\"

Eirdis chews his lower lip and ponders a moment, tapping his foot quietly as he thinks. \"Have you any source of Elven wine, perhaps? I have a friend who\'s developed quite the penchant for it, it would be the perfect gift upon my return home.. Perhaps, say, two skins worth? I\'d throw in some high-quality pipeweed and mugwort, if you\'ve a mind to take it, Milady.\"

[Devora(#21935)]� Devora holds the satchel as if it were gold, as it is to her. \"I happen to travel with the King, and we have plenty of elvish wine in the camp.Two skins for your wares, and I consider that a deal done.\"

[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin\'s brows have risen is a somewhat sarcastic manner and his lips press together in an amused way as Eirdis and Devora talk business. But with the uneasy topic of dwarvish women now apparently safely past, the silversmith suddenly takes a renewed interest in those candles he seeks. He gives a bow to Mobeon and Hildis, leaving the other two to their deal, mutters a farewell and departs into the market crowds.

Eirdis smiles and raises an eyebrow, \"You King, you say? Ah, must be an honour, eh? Well, you\'ll find me in the stables yonder, with my pony, Valkyrie. I must be going now.. I only ask that our trade be conducted before I am ready to pack again for our journey, as I have my tent and such to see to..\" He makes yet another smart bow to the woman and smiles. \"Your servant, Milady. I hope we might do business agian sometime, or at least sip a pint or five together. It has been a great while since I\'ve met another healer, aside from one of my own folk. Good afternoon, then! Cousin Hildis, Master Mobeorn.\" He gives a quick bow to the Beorning and a slight smile to Hildis, murmuring quietly, \"Maybe some fancy fabrics, if you\'ve any.. Might interest him.\" Then, the Khazad departs, whistling softly.

[Devora(#21935)]� Devora grasps her precious flowers, happy in the knowledge that she can relieve a friend\'s discomfort. \"Thank you Mastre Dwarf, she calls out after the departing Eirdis. She turns and smiles at the remaining company before making a short bow and exiting towards the elf camp.