(Archive) The Strange Adventures of Numandil, Naerdil, and Huan 13

Elendor - Friday, July 14, 2000, 10:16 PM

-----------------------------------------

Real time is: Fri Jul 14 20:10:33 2000

Elendor time is: Early Morning on Monday of Autumn - October 23, 3020

Approach to Esgaroth

The rolling farmlands of Dale extend to the north and south on either side of the Esgaroth Road, however dominating the the view to the east are the rolling waters of the long lake, and the town of Esgaroth which sits upon it. Spanning the distance from the shore to the thriving town on the lake is a large bridge of wood, flanked by a pair of guardhouses. Banners fly streaming from the bridgeposts in the wind off of the lake. The bridge is busy, and the sounds and sights of life in the small city are apparent acrossed the short span of water.

Contents:

Drukin

Rhagen

Naerdil aka Aearwen

Dwarven Travel Camp

Marusia

Beorning Caravan

Healer\'s Yurt

Obvious exits:

West leads to Hillside.

Bridge leads to Esgaroth Bridge.

The sun peeking over the edge of the horizon sends beams of golds and pinks shimmering across the long lake as the caravan begins to come alive for the day. The smoke from the cooks fire sends puffs of grey smoke spiraling into the air as the smell of fresh coffee and food permeates the area. A hacking cough can be heard coming from one tent as the visitor from the stone city is awakened by the noise of the encampment.

Opening the flap of the tent, red rimmed eyes peer around the campsite as Naerdil wearily pushes aside the opening and steps out into the encampment. Growling low in his throat as the hound of his uncle comes bounding forth, Naerdil moves his booted foot and keeps the massive animal from jumping to his chest. Harshly he barks out, \"Down Huan.\" and then his hand flies to his mouth to contain the viscious cough spilling from his lips. Quickly he walks towards the cook and says, \"A cup of anything to drink. Fast!\" as he leans over to spit phelgm onto the grass.

[Marusia(#22365)] \"A fine way to start the morning that is,\" comes a woman\'s voice, heavy with sarcasm, from somewhere behind Naerdil\'s tent. With two steps, Marusia steps into view, a mug of something in her hand. She sips from it slowly, considering the dog and the rather grumpy man in silence for a moment. Though the hour is early, she actually looks well-rested for a change. \"Care for some beer?\" she says, though it\'s not clear if her offer is serious or not.

[Drukin(#29358)] Knocking at a keg, one of the Khazad stands in front of their encampment. Looking up at the barking of the dog he shakes his head. \"Ah, the cook he asks while here we have some of the finest ale there is.\" He knocks again at the keg. \"Sounds perfect!\" he declares and, picking up a mallet from his belt, starts to drive in a tap.

A scrowl remains on his face as Naerdil turns to the sound of the woman\'s voice, barely croaking out his answer, \"Aye. I will have some ale\" Reaching for a cup from the supply by the cook he walks over to where the man is driving a tap into a keg. Holding out one firm hand he says in a hoarse voice, obviously straining to speak, \"Good morn. I, am Naerdil Nimothan from the Stone City. Would you be so kind as to share the finest ale made? I have coin if you wish payment\"

[Drukin(#29358)] \"A fine brown ale I have here, as fine as they come.\" the dwarf replies. \"Though I also have some pale ale and the most finest stout you might have ever had, inside my wagon, if ya prefer that.\" Drukin I am, son of Fulur, the Brewmaster under the Iron Hills.\" He nods. \"Yer payment would be most welcome.\"

Naerdil gives the man a sly grin as he admits with some embarassment, \"Truthfully, I am just developing a taste for ale. The fine wine of Dol Amroth has always been my choice of refreshment.\" Nodding his head in acknowledge of the man\'s name he says quite simply, \"Tis a pleasure to meet you. What does a fine keg of the finest stout cost a man dying of thirst?\" Holding out his cup he asks, \"Perhaps I should take a sample taste first?\"

[Drukin(#29358)] \"Ah, let me get that keg from the wagon....\" the dwarf turns to walk towards the wagon, then stops in his tracks, repeating the words of the human muttering in his beard \"...dying of thirst\", eyeing back over his shoulder, then calls out to one of his fellow Khazad \"You watch my keg while I get the other one, will ya?\", then continues to one of the wagons.

The hound Huan pushes his massive head against the breeches of Naerdil and the man finally relents and pats the animal, \"I know, its not your fault old boy. Tis a bad day with this wicked cough.\", sputtering out the last words as he coughs again. A frown mars his brow for a moment as he heads the Khazad repeat his words and curiosity alights his expression for a moment as he patiently awaits the mans return, although reaching into his pocket fingering the coins there.

[Drukin(#29358)] A rumbling sounds from the wagon as the dwarf unloads another keg. \"The finest stout there is, by Mahal!\" he calls out. \"My father came up with the recipe and named the brew in honor of his mother -may Mahal grant her peace- so proud he was of it, and proud he can be...\" He puts the keg on a nearby barrel and drives another keg into it. \"Now if you would hand me that mug, so you can see what some have called our \'liquid bread\'.\"

The sound of booming laughter sounds from deep within the chest of Naerdil as he responds to Drukin\'s words. Crisp steps are taken through the trodden grass as he walks to where the man is, a smile curving his lips, \"Already my day is looking better. Tell me, how long does one have to wait for a keg of this brew to season? \" Looking at the Khazad he asks, \"Is season the correct word?\" Holding forth his cup he laughs hoarsely, \"Enough of this small talk, let me have a sip of your wares\"

[Drukin(#29358)] \"Hah!\" the dwarf exclaims \"Not a single detail of the brewing procedure shall come over my lips...\" He opens the tap and a dark, almost black liquid streams into the cup, forming a rich, thick foam on top. Stopping the tap for a moment, the dwarf lets some of the foam settle, then resumes. \"Here, my friend, the first taste is free, but for more, I would have to ask you to cover my expenses...\"

Again the booming laughter of Naerdil sounds as he exclaims, \"Is the brewing procedure such a guarded secret?\" Twinkling eyes watch the man as he draws a cup of the rich dark liquid, the heady aroma quickly wafting up to his nose as it rises to the top of the cup. Reaching for his cup he quickly takes a sip of the brew, a moustache of foam resting on his upper lip as he swallows and then smiles as he licks at the froth on his lip. \"Wonderful. Superb.\" Reaching into his pocket he asks, \'What manner of coin will buy me another cup of this fine drink?\" as he once again raises the cup to his lips.

Pulling a few coins from his pocket Naerdil counts out five copper pennies and hands them to Drukin. A sly grin is on his face after he finishes the last of the ale in his cup and says, \"That is very good. I should like another one please.\" A look of fascination is on his face as he clears his throat and then speaks a little clearer, \"It does seem like the soreness in my throat has abated somewhat\"

[Drukin(#29358)] \"Well, thank my grandmother, if you will, whose name adorns this marvel of brewery.\" the dwarf nods. Ah. another cup, another payment, but I tell you my friend that it would be much cheaper if you took the whole keg, for as it is, I cannot sell it to anyone as a keg anymore but you...\"

Surprise flits across the face of Naerdil as he inquires, \"You could not sell the keg to anyone else but myself? What ever do you mean by that?\" Understanding dawns as he says, \"Once the keg has been tapped into the freshness would quickly be lost and would no longer be considered a full keg\" Laughing he shakes his head, raven locks brushing against his brow, \"I will be more than happy to pay for the keg good man.\"

Drukin nods. \"Especially since it is not a full keg anymore anyway, my friend, since you sipped from it twice already.\"

[Rhagen(#21605)] From the dwarven caravan comes a taller dwarf. He must stand about 5 feet. He seems to be heading toward the Other Dwarf that is already out side the camp. \"Good Morning, Drukin. I see you have been talking with another group of travelers?\" A mug hangs from his belt, always ready for a Mug of ale.

Naerdil takes a seat upon a tree stump and crosses one black booted foot upon his knee and rests the cup of ale upon his shiny boots and asks, \"Would you mind telling me of your land? I know nothing of this area and my curiosity abounds with questions.\" Patting a journal resting in the deep pocket of his cloak he says, \"I have been logging the people met along the way and have drawn charcoal sketches of many.\" A nostalgic smile plays across his lips as he says, \"I shall regale those at home with my adventures...if, I ever return to my homeland.\" A sudden sadness clouds the silver grey eyes of the man as he watches a bird fly along the top of the lake collecting insects for its morning meal.

[Drukin(#29358)] \"Ah, but why would you not be returning?\" Drukin scratches his head. He nods a greeting to Rhagen \"Good morning my friend, try some of the brown ale over there\" with that he points to the keg he tapped first in the morning. \"I believe it is just right today...\"

Rhagen pulls the mug from his belt and fills the mug to the brim. \"So who is your friend, good brewer?\" Rhagen bows before the trail mate.

Rising quickly from his seat upon the tree stump Naerdil holds out one massive hand in greeting, \"Good day sir. I would be Naerdil from Gondor.\" A warm smile is given to this taller man as he says, \"I was just enjoying the fine ale made by your friend here. Quite a lovely way to start one\'s morning. I shall be eager to see if such ale is even made in Gondor.\" Looking quickly to Drukin he says, \"Tis a long way back to the City of Stone....many atrocities have I witnessed in my travels. The mere thought of passing through the Misties and those horrid orcs is enough to make my stomach wretch.\"

[Drukin(#29358)] \"The Misty Mountains you say?\" the eyes of the brewer gleam. \"You have passed them? Where did you cross?\"

Rhagen shakes Naerdil\'s hand in return. \"I am Rhagen a merchant of these parts. I might be wondering, what brings a man of Gondor this far north? Esspecially through such peril.\"

Drawing the journal from the depth of his deep pockets Naerdil flips back several pages and a chuckle sounds as he says almost to himself, \"Ah, Fangorn. That was a memorable experience.\" Clearing his voice he says, \"Pardon me for that mistake, we travelled along the Anduin until we reached the Beorning Village. We did travel with Sloane and some of the other villagers to the outpost and helped drive the orcs back into the Misties.\" Shaking his head with a sneer upon his lips, \"That was some evil business there.\"

Looking to Rhagen he shakes his hand firmly and says, \"Pleased to meet you sir. I would greatly appreciate learning of your customs and ways while we visit this area. My uncle and I were sent here by the Steward of Gondor in an effort to find allies and some kind of treaty.\" His massive shoulders shrug slightly as he adds, \"My uncle, Numandil, does not give me all of the details of our trip.\"

Drukin spits out \"Cursed be the orcs until the end of the world...but one day, my kin will drive them out of the mountains...\"

Rhagen pulls on his beard, \"Numandil, you say? I believe I met a man in Erebor by that name. I only met him for a moment in the tavern, but he seemed nice enough, Yes, I see the resemblance now.\"

A coolness pervades the countenance of Naerdil as he nods his head gravely, \"You say that you did see Numandil, my uncle already in Erebor?\" Puzzled for a moment he inquires, \"Can you tell me how many days since you last saw him there? We got separated somewhere in Mirkwood and I have been trying to catch up with him since.\"

Rhagen continues to pull on his beard, \"Well, it\'s been I\'d say a week. No, now over two weeks. Time is hard to comprehend when you are on the trail.\" he takes a long sip from his mug and ponders for a moment more. \"Well, you must have gotten really stuck, to be that far behind. Did you run into much trouble in the great forest?\"

[Drukin(#29358)] \"Hm, Mirkwood...I wonder what kind of trees they have there...but them elves probably object to make kegs out of them....\" Drukin muses.

A shrug of one shoulder is given to Rhagen in response as Naerdil says, \"The wheel on the wagon broke and had to be repaired. Numandil sent me ahead to do some scouting and we have never gotten back together.\" Looking at the two dwarves he asks, \"Perhaps I could accompany you when you return to Erebor?\" Recalling the earlier statement about orcs he asks, \"Do the orcs travel over the Misties to threaten this area very often?\" Shuddering slightly as he says, \"I helped clear the filth and repair the outpost after they were driven out...worse than animals in a pen.\"

[Drukin(#29358)] \"Rhagen, do you know if Lord Thorin plans to return to Erebor?\" drukin asks, then, looking back at the human, explains \"Might as well be that we head straight for our home in the Iron Hills again...\"

[Rhagen(#21605)] Finishing off his mug, Rhagen says, \"The Warders of Erebor told us the road to the south was clear of any danger. I figured they didn\'t know what they were talking about though. I\'d say you could accompany us, but I suggest you talk to Lord Thorin, if you get the chance. He will tell you if you can follow or not.\" Rhagen refills his mug, looking at Drukin, he nods, \"I\'m afraid we will not be going past Erebor for quite some time. I\'m not even sure if we will pass by it on the way home. Again, you should talk to Lord Thorin.\"

Naerdil looks from Drukin to Rhagen and then inquires, \"Who is this Lord Thorin of which you speak? Is he the ruler of Erebor like Denethor is the Lord Steward of Gondor?\" His voice is clear and strong as he says, \"I will be happy to share the burdens of travel and pay for my share of the expenses.\" Suddenly he looks to the men again and inquires, \"Do strangers gain entry into Erebor very easily?\"

Rhagen laughs at the man, \"No Dain, King Under the Mountain is the Lord of Erebor, Thorin is his son and ruler of Emyn Engrin, the Iron Hills. You should not have much trouble entering Erebor, As long as you fly the banner of peace.\"

Wincing in embarassment Naerdil asks with a bashful expression upon his face, \"The banner of peace?\" A stick of charcoal is withdrawn from his pocket and a scratching sound is made as he makes some entries into the journal laid across his crossed knee. \"Please. Do tell me of this banner of peace as I wish to enter Erebor and find my beloved kinsman. \" Softly he repeats to himself, \"Thorin is the son of the King under the Mountain and ruler of Emyn Engrin.\" Biting the corner of his lip as he concentrates trying to get the details entered correctly. \"Just out of curiosity, what is the main commerce of Erebor?\"

[Drukin(#29358)] \"Heh, since all the good brewers are in Emyn Engrin, you can always sell beer under the mountain...unless you have one of the local brewers nearby.\" Drukin chuckles. \"And don\'t you dare tell them brewers that I said that...\"

[Rhagen(#21605)] Laughing at the man, Rhagen chuckles, \"Well, the banner of peace is really just a figure of speech. I mean don\'t pose a threat and they will be your friend.\" He drinks more from his mug and sits. \"Erebor is a city, they are mostly consumers. The city is rich with gold, and they don\'t export too much, besides ore. Emyn Engrin and Lake town are all in the triangle of trade with Erebor. Thought Emyn Engrin is probably the strongest of the three and would survive on it\'s own the longest.\"

A sigh of relief slips from the lips of Naerdil as he expels a breath of air, unaware that he had been waiting for Rhagen\'s reply. \"I dare say I pose little to -no- threat as I am a peace loving scholar. Curiosity is the biggest threat I pose to anyone as I can ask a million questions in a single afternoon.\" A teasing grin turns up the corners of his mouth as he asks, \"So the brewers are in a war so to speak as to who makes and sells the most? Thats interesting. We only have a few such establishments in Gondor and they co-exist rather peacefully.\" Laughing suddenly he says, \"But the people did riot when the Steward stopped the sell of ale in all taverns for a given period. Dumped the good brew upon the ground! The soldiers had to contain the riot that broke out. Believe you me, it was a sight to behold.\"

Pausing long enough to take yet another sip of his drink he swirls it around his mouth before swallowing the dark liquid and then smacks his lips. \"I can see that I shall enjoy my visit to Erebor.\"

[Drukin(#29358)] \"Nah, no war...we just make the better ale and they won\'t admit it.\" Drukin grins thourgh his beard, winking.

Rhagen turns his head to Drukin, laughing. \"Aye, I tried to tell them that their Ale, was dry and unsatisfying, but they would not admit it, in Erebor, that is.\" Rhagen finishes off the Ale in his mug, \"Ah! That\'s good stuff.\"

Chuckling heartily Naerdil gives Drukin a wink in return and says, \"Then I shall have to do a taste comparison, wont I?\" His shoulders quake as his laughter rings out clearly in the encampment as he holds out his mug for another refill and says, \"Fill er up again\" as his hand reaches for the required payment of drink. Twinkling eyes look to both men and ask, \"Is this an unfair advantage if I readily consume -your- ale before we reach there?\"

Clapping Rhagen on the back he says, \"Tis nice to meet you both. I shall enjoy travelling with you if Lord Thorin allows it.\" Cocking his head to one side he inquires, \"Do you suppose I could watch you make a batch of ale?\" quickly adding, \'watch only... making no note of the ingredients. I am fascinated by the whole process. The cool refreshing way it quenches your thirst. I could hardly speak a word this morn until I sipped upon a mug of ale\"

Drukin chuckles. \"Heh, you would have to come to our home for that...I can hardly do the procedure on the road...\"

Rhagen laughs, \"we Dwarves hold many a things solemn, It would require quite a bit of convincing of our head brewmasters to allow you to do that. Brewing Ale is one of our most sacred traditions.\"

Nodding his head in all seriousness, Naerdil says, \"I would be most honoured to witness such a sacred tradition. Would the two of you help plead my case? It would be such an honor to return home and tell my children and their children of my visit here and what I witnessed. These are the things that make life worth living.\" Clearing his throat and blushing again he laughs softly and says, \"Forgive me for being melodramatic there. My family has been on my mind since I awoke with a bad dream during the night.\"

Rhagen looks worried, \"Oh a bad dream? That is not good. What has happened in it? If you don\'t mind my asking.\"

[Drukin(#29358)] \"Bad dreams could be bad omens...\" Drukin frowns :you never know...as for your request, I would have to ask me father...\"

A faraway look clouds the silvery orbs of Naerdil as he stares out over the lake, the breeze coming in from across the water stirring his raven locks. Silent for many moments he says in a whisper soft voice, \"The faces of the orcs from the outpost were vivid in my mind. Again, I saw and felt each time their scimitars slashed into my skin, quickly turning my white clothing into scarlet. The leader of those horrid creatures was after my beloved kinsman in that dream...the blood of House Nimothan dripping from his blade as he pulled it from my uncles body.\"

Shuddering slightly he drops his head as if ashamed, \"Twas my first battle and many nights it awakens me with the renewed horror of what I saw there. I suppose in time it shall lessen .....\", his voice drops off as his fingers flip back through the page of the journal and his eyes behold the face from his nightmare. Holding up the journal, this page coloured with dyes to emphasize the evil of this creature he asks simply, \'Would this not haunt your dreams? Had it not been for the elves of Lorien coming to save us we would have perished that night\"

[Drukin(#29358)] \"Forgive me friends, but I have to look after a few more kegs.\" Drukin declares. \"So, do you want to keep this keg as yours?\" he asks the human.

Naerdil points to the unassuming grey tent on the outside of the encampment and says, \"Come. Let me help you carry that heavy thing. Then I shall have to gather some plants from the forest before we move on, I noticed some that will replenish my stock of healing herbs.\"

Rhagen nods solemly as he listens to the story. \"Aye, I can remember my first taste of Cambat, I was but a beardling then. My parents were both slaughtered at the hands of attacking orcs. I still have dreams of what could have been, if they lived or if I had died. The feeling will never go away for me...\" he shudders. Taking one last swig of ale, he says, \"Well, peace be with you friend. I hope your fell-dreams end. I hope that I will see more of you on our journey. I must be preparing for selling. I wish you luck and steadfast endurance in finding your uncle.\" He bows and then makes his way back to the camp.