1999-08-24 Elendor

Here are two logs that show the company of dwarves role-playing. In the first log, Kurgan comes over to visit our camp. He claims that his company is moving south, and freshly arrived Gumbart is suspecting espionage. Note how the RP consists of shorter poses in the beginning, as everybody seems in a hurry to pose.




Elendor time is: Before Dawn (about 4 AM ) on Sunday, 20 March 3018. In the
Spring sky, The last quarter moon hangs low and sleepy in the sky on the way to
its bower behind the hills.



Dwarven Road, North of Long Lake

The road follows the Long Lake here, though the shore is a ways off, as is the
River Running to the east. The land is largely wooded groves standing like
islands amidst a rolling plain.

Dwarven Travel Camp
This campsite is smaller than normal for Khazad. There is a campfire in the
center, surrounded by a number of small shelters. Though not as large as some
dwarven camps, there are sentries on duty.

Large Travel Camp
A circle of tents around a campfire, guarded by silent Dwarves in gleaming
chain-mail.

A large group of dwarves are setting up a temporary camp alongside of the road
here, the guard is light and not very focused at the moment feeling a sense of
security being so close to their own lands. Most of the dwarves apear to be
soldiers but many are obviously not. A lone dwarf wearing a baruk nala master
gallant uniform, wearing armor and carring a battle axe heads southward down
the road towards what appears to be another camp of dwarves.

In the distance, sitting in the small travel camp to the south, a lone dwarf
makes his way out of a wagon, a sheaved broadsword in hand. He quickly reveals
the weapon, you can see it is a standard dwarven design, no jewels guild it's
hilt. He turns quickly and runs towards the edge of the camp.

Kurgan continues to walk south down the trail as his own camp becomes smaller
behind him. At first Kurgan does not spot the armed dwarf rushing his way but
when he does, he stops short and calls to the dwarf "Hello cousin, who might
you be?" Kurgan makes no move to prepare for an attack but his weapon remains
at the ready as he waits for a reply.

From Dwarven Travel Camp, his face full of suspicion, Brican calls out to the
other dwarf as he continues to approach, "I be the master of this camp, if ye
must know, we be travelling north to meet a cousin of mine, he said that he
would be meeting us around here, have ye seen by chance a merchant named
Gumbart?"

The morning mist clings to the lake, occasionally it wafts across the dwarven
road. As the dwarves start shouting in the early morning hours, a grey shadow
awakens in the brushes nearby. Somebody obviously tried to follow the Baruk
Nala master. Gumbart gets up and shows himself. "Do not worry, dear friend, I
am here!" he shouts.

Kurgan

Before you stands a middle-aged dwarf a little better than four and a half feet
tall. His greyish beard falls to about six inches below his waist. Like most of
his people, He is quite strong and stocky and you can see many of his large
muscles from beneath his clothing. Although he is about middle aged, his face
appears to still retain much it's youthful appearance but you can easily make
out the signs of his age.

He wears a grey, hooded cloak over his very muscular body. You notice a small
brooch made of silver with a trim of rubies depicting two crossed silver axes
with red hafts pinned to the cloak. From underneath his cloak you make out what
seems to be a pair of black pants. You can also descern a suit of mail that his
cloak doesn't fully conceal. You also notice that his boots are so well
polished that you believe you can almost make out your reflection in them.
Although both his both his boots and his cloak appear relatively new you
believe they have seen some use in their day.

From Dwarven Travel Camp, Rimli has waken up, as he noticed some noise. He
exits from his tent and follows Brican. Than he stops on the edge of the camp
to observe what's happening

From Dwarven Travel Camp, turning to face Rimli for a moment, he asks in a
hushed voice towards the dwarf, "Well cousin, do ye know who this cousin of
ours is. Since ye is from these parts I feel that you must be able to tell me."

Turning towards the Baruk Naga, Gumbart growls, "I've followed you guys these
last hours, and I was very astonished to see your goal seemed to coincide with
mine. So tell me now, cousin, what be you business in these parts?"

Kurgan pauses for a second and started to move for his weapon and then stops
short when he hears that it is Gumbart and his hand rests. "Hello cousin,
Gumbart." Kurgan continues toward the camp and then speaks, "If the cousin you
refer of is me, then I can tell you. I am Kurgan, Master Gallant and head
weaponsmith of the Baruk Nala under the mountain and I am with the travel party
over yonder." He points back at his camp and then turns back to Brican.

From Dwarven Travel Camp, smiling in the direction of Gumbart, the young dwarf
Brican yells out, "Well good to see ye again Master Gumbart, you sent word for
me to meet you in these parts, I hope that this here Baruk Nala master takes no
offense in travelling in these lands, as ye can see we travel without guard so
we can not be too careful these days."

From Dwarven Travel Camp, Rimli smirks "These cousins seems to be friendly,
Brican. I guess you don't need my services for a while so I'll came back to
sleep". He yawns walking up to his tent"

Kurgan turns back around to face Gumbart whom is still behind him as he asks
his question. "I suppose our goal may be the same as yours but I doubt it and I
have no idea of what your goal is. However I am a guard of an expedition that
was ordered by Dain, King under the Mountain, himself to erect a watch tower
somewhere between Lake town and the Mirkwood to the south, though Dolvar could
give you more precies directions." Kurgan pauses and the camp guard speaks then
he begins again "We mean no harm to you though you should watch you belongings
their have been reports of thieves and bregands around these parts and possibly
a rouge Troll as well."

From Dwarven Travel Camp, Brican says with a slight grimace, "A troll you say,
I have heard awful things of those creatures, it is said even a dwarven warder
will have troubles keeping there swift arms from attack. Have ye seen many a
troll in your travels?"

The sun flashes brightly on the horizon. Night gives way to morning.

Gumbart nods, and says gruffly, "Aye, there's allways thieves about, you never
know. Fortifying the borders is always a good idea. But a troll? I've heard
rumours in Erebor but dismissed them. What evidence is there for the presence
of a troll other than the daily chatter of Laketowners who know no better than
to pass ridiculous stories around?"

Kurgan shouders as a memory comes to him, shruging it of for a second he
begins, "Well, several patrols have seen sign of very large foot-prints bigger
than dwarf or even men and I have heard that several veterans have identified
the prints as Troll and this was just outside of Erebor." Kurgan takes a long
pause before continueing. "And a few days ago to the south in the Mirkwood, due
south of here our party ran into half a dozen trolls or so all heading in this
direction we were forced to retreat amoung the missing was Thalin, the master
smith of Barazyn."

A surprised silence follows the dire words of Kurgan, head weaponsmith of the
Baruk Nala. Even Gumbart is too taken aback to sneer at what he just heard.
"This is news indeed, I knew not that dwarves ran into half a dozen trolls.
Let's hope that Thalin and the others will make it back, yet. I shall have to
discuss this with the warders accompanying us, later. Let us not stand in the
cold however; I am sure our cousins will share some hot coffee with us. Care to
join us?"

From Dwarven Travel Camp, Remaining silent for many a minute, Brican looks over
towards Gumbart with his head slumped, "I think one of my cousins has some
mutton, and the kettle is on the fire, I would be honored if you would both
join us for a bite or two."

Kurgan nods to Brican, "I thank you very much for your genorosity. Please show
the way." With this, fealing quite safe in the company of severeal dwarves from
two camps Kurgan sheaths his battle axe as he follows Brican.
Kurgan replaces his Battle Axe to it's sheath on his back.
"What was it that you asked about trolls 'do warders have trouble with them?' I
think it was ah yes one on one warders have much problems with trolls..."

From Dwarven Travel Camp, showing Kurgan the way to the blazing fire, he
gestures that he should sit. Several dwarves are frying pieces of sizzling
mutton, and pooring cups of ale for those gathered. With a smile, brican
gathers a few cups and plates from the ground and hands them over to his guests
before he himself sits down on a log. As one of his men fill his cup with ale,
he takes a giant sip before turning towards Kurgan, "These trolls, do ye think
it likely that we shall see them on our road, as ye can see we are little armed
and most likely unable to defend against such beasts."

Gumbart grins weakly, waves airly in the direction of Brican's camp and waits
for Kurgan to pass him. Behind his back, his smile fades quickly and his
brooding eyes try to pierce the morning mist, try to discover what the other
dwarves are up to. After a few seconds, he slowly turns around and follows
Kurgan to the camp, however, his shoulds hunched and turning around several
times. As he comes close to the camp, he throws an angry glance at Brican and
nods towards Kurgan. Quickly, however, a brown-toothed grin spreads across his
wrinkled face, and he greets his cousin with heartfelt friendlyness, "I made
it, at last! Hahaha! Welcome, Brican, in my home country."

Noticing the look of anger coming over Gumbart he looks curious for a moment as
he takes a bite of his mutton, "Why is it you seem angry cousin Gumbart, I did
as ye requested and brought my camp with great strife to the north. Aye, the
mountains here are beautiful I must say, a long time since I seen em."

Kurgan enters the camp before Gumbart and takes his seat and takes a slow
draught from the cup of ale given to him by Brican, he then looks about the
camp sight before continuing. "Well I do not know whether you will see Trolls
on your journey or not because I do not know what road you are taking or your
destination and I agree your party would not last long against Trolls you might
hold your own against one but two I doubt you could handle." Kurgan takes a bit
of the mutton and waits for a reply as he looks about the camp.

Gumbart fixates the Baruk Naga and everytime the weaponsmith seems to notice
something new about Brican's camp, he winces silently and grows more concerned
by the minute. Gumbart can't help to scan the camp, too, even as he continues
his talk with Kurgan. "We shall try to travel by dailight and keep no fires at
night. We'll travel quietly and try to leave no traces, there is nothing else
for us to do," he says and lets his gaze travel across the few tents, the two
dozen ponies, the occasional dwarf that has risen to step over to the little
rivlet flowing nearby for a morning wash, to the tired faces at the morning
fire waiting for their coffee.

Brican turns towards Gumbart with concern, "Well, it has been a long road for
us Cousin Gumbart, perhaps now it is the time to tell us why you sent for me
with such urgency. I do not like this talk to trolls so I will probably travel
east, back towards my homeland, I think that is probably the best route,
Wouldn't you agree cousin Kurgan?"

Kurgan nods in agreement to what Gumbart says and then waits for Brican to
finish. "I would agree with Brican but I have no idea of where you are going so
I do not know for certain." Kurgan takes another bite of the mutton and when
his mouth is no longer full he continues. "But I agree also with what Gumbart
says because that will make you harder to find and stick to the cover when you
camp a concieled camp is harder to find and attack than one in the open.
Scouting ahead would also be wise if you have anyone skilled in that area."
Kurgan takes a drink of the ale and continues. "Where are you headed cousins?"

Nodding towards Kurgan, Brican lays his broadsword to rest on the log next to
him, "Aye, I think it best if we follow Gumbart advice for now, but I think
probably the best route for safety would be to the east to the iron hills. We
travelled through laketown on a merchant expedition, but hearing this news of
Trolls burdens my heart indeed. We came thinking that we could deal with the
few bandits we find along the road, but as ye pointed out a troll is very
different then a inexperienced bandit."

Gumbart's jaws are working hard as his gaze darts back and forth between Brican
and Kurgan. "We be eastward-bound, Kurgan, nevertheless we feel uneasy at the
news of trolls moving through Mirkwood, possibly going farther east, still. It
used to be not so bad with the elves doing their share, silly as they might
seem, they are no friends of orcs and trolls and worse," he says
unethusiastically, nodding thankfully in Brican's direction. "Bandits we
expected, but trolls and what else they might be leading east... Have there
been sighings of anything else besides?" he asks Kurgan. As Brican rises an
eyebrow, Gumbart jumps in and says, "I know Brican, I owe you an explanation,
but I think that can wait until later."

Kurgan thinks back for a moment, "The group of trolls that attacked us had a
small complement of uruks with them but we made short work of them. I suppose
that there maybe more on there way and it is not very uncommon to see orcs this
far north of the Mirkwood. I would certainly keep an eye out if I were you and
if at all possible avoid the Mirkwood as the Spiders will be just comming out
of their dens and will be overly agresive this time of the year. The best
advice I can give is be carefull and if attacked don't try to be a hero, you
have a better chance of survival if you run do to your small numbers."

Looking across to the other camp to the north, Brican sighs for a moment, "If
ye didn't have other engagements I would of asked ye for a escourt, but this
new tower ye speak of will be important if ye want to keep those trolls at bay,
I will follow your advice and head east towards the iron hills, avoiding to
light fires at night, the wagons should provide enough protection against the
elements I would say. I thank ye for your valuable news, ye have probably saved
a lot of lives this eve."

Gumbart grins evilly, finishing his cup of coffe. He gets up and says, "Aye, we
are gratefull for your news, Kurgan. But now the time for packing has come and
we shall be off before the day advances too far. I shall get my ponies, Brican
and then we can be off within the hour. Are you agreed?"

Kurgan has already finished his meal of mutton and the cup of ale that had been
given to him. He rises after hearing Brican's comments and then bows to him and
then to Gumbart. "Well I must return to my own camp they are probably starting
to wonder where I have gone off to. Good luck on your journey I hope you
encounter no evil beast of any kind." With this Kurgan turns and walks away
towards his own camp.

Brican nods towards gumbart for a moment, "I shall prepare the camp ready to
leave." He stands and turns towards the assembled wagons and the men, he starts
shouting orders at the top of the lungs and his men begin to prepare to move.
Supplies are packed back into the wagons and the fire is dampened out. He
smiles as the camp moves efficently at his orders.

Gumbart shakes his head as Kurgan leaves. He mutters, "Aye Brican, the time of
truth has come and ye shall know all I know in a few hours, if you can content
yourself with a few more moments of not knowing, I shall fetch my ponies as I
said."

Later, poses start to grow again as we are getting deeper into it. In the second log, Gumbart finally divulges his secret: The map of Thrain’s last cache.

South of Taurduin's Mouth
You stand near the Long Lake at it's south-west edge, in sight of both the
Running River to the East, and the Forest River to the North. A bridge crosses
the Celeduin (Running) but the Taurduin has a short free ferry ride on a barge.

Dwarven Travel Camp
Around you is a small dwarven campsite. The campsite is smaller than normal for
Khazad. There is a campfire in the center, surrounded by a number of small
shelters. Though not as large as some dwarven camps, there are sentries on
duty.




Elendor time is: Midday (about 12 Noon (lunch time) ) on Monday, 21 March 3018.
In the Spring sky, Tonight the moon will be last quarter.



On the top of a rolling wagon, Brican sighs for a moment as the road seems to
go on endlessly. It's been a cold few days for him as there been a lack of
fires and heat for the poor souls of the camp. He grunts as he takes a bite of
perserved meat from under his jacket and slaps the reigns of his horses to
quicken there pace.

Gumbart swears loudly as he comes back from the river bank, "Damned, unholy,
pest-carrying mosquitos, visitors from the Nameless One, cursed orcish insects
of Mirkwood!!" Gumbart is slapping himself here and there, trying to kill all
the blood-suckers, but with limited success. At the same time he is trying to
shoo the flies away from the two dead rabbits he is carrying. "I shall kill a
pony and leave the carcass for you, black midget devils from the darkest
tunnels Durin's sons ever stumbled across!" he roars as he nearly stumbles
across a log while trying to defend himself against the boiling mass. "Hey
Brican, why did we camp so close to the Marshes??" he shouts.

As he pulls up alongside Gumbart with his wagon, Brican looks down to him from
his perch, "Well tis you who got here first cousin Gumbart, I just been
bringing in the wagons closer to the marshes. But a strange place you have
brought us to Gumbart, and yet ye still have reglected to tell us why we have
come this way, perhaps now this would be a good time." He turns to go into his
wagon for a moment, and after a moment of shuffling he comes out bearing a
moskito net which he tosses towards Gumbart.

Datain sticks his head out of the wagon, "Yeah, havent we gotten to know each
other well enough to build up some trust," he adds with a slight hint of
sarcasm.

Steaming in anger but quiet nonetheless, Gumbart wraps his face and hat under
the mosquito net that Brican provided so unselfishly. "Aye, now it's my fault,
is it? Nobody knows where we are going and yet we seem to steer into the
deepest marshes, the blackest ponds and now we're camping as near to mosqito
bliss and dwarven misery as you can get. And through no fault of mine!" he
shouts. He falls silent then. "Ah," he mutters, much calmer, "ye shall know it
all. I should have showed you some days back." Seeing Datain sticking his head
out of his wagon, he waves and says, louder now, "Yes, Datain, do come out and
let me tell you what we're after!"

Stepping down from the wagon with a bump, Brican looks over towards Gumbart
with a smile, "Perhaps not your fault, but the forrest isn't far now I can say,
to the west maybe it bears, ye have the map however so I'll have to rely on
your judgment on this. The word of trolls disturbs me though, they are reported
to be near here when we spoke to our cousin several days ago."

"How should i know what were after, I just had to get out of Engrin for a
while," Datain says jumping down from his wagon and making his way to his two
cousins. "And now that I am on this trip I can't go back."

Gumbart busies himself with the two rabbits, skinning them quickly and wrapping
the bleeding lumps of flesh into some rags. "That'll do," he mutters. Then he
calls, "Wait a second," goes to wash his hands, comes back from the river, and
sits by the empty space that will hold the cooking fire towards the evening
hours. From under his cloak he pulls a brown leather cylinder, shining and
smooth, waxed and locked by an intricate dwarven lock of silver rose patterns
with interlocking thorns. He opens the lock with a swift pass of his dextrous
fingers and pulls several sheets of paper from the cylinder. "This," he says in
his sarcastic voice, "is the key to a fortune larger than what was regained
from Smaug a few years back."

Curious, Brican moves to get a closer look to the sheets, he turns to Gumbart,
"Aye you mentioned of this before, I thought it was nothing more than a legend
when you had mentioned it, how can we possibly find this treasure? And as you
know, we need someone who knows of the black arts to help us with this journey,
but that is terribly hard to come by, especially one that wouldn't be working
for the nameless one. How can we know such a person wouldn't backstab us at the
first mention of this treasure?"

Datain leans in to get a closer look, and wait to say anything not wanting to
sound dumb. At the mention of the black arts Datain backs away slightly with a
slight hint of worry in his eyes, then looks to Gumbart for answers to his
unasked questions.

Gumbart shakes his head, grinning, "No my friend Brican, I think we shall make
it without resorting to the black arts. They are dangerous to dabble with and I
would have none of them, if I could. No, take a look at this here..." He
spreads one of the maps out. <OOC: type +inspect gum's map>

This is map usually stored in a brown leather cylinder, shining and smooth,
waxed and locked by an intricate dwarven lock of silver rose patterns with
interlocking thorns. An intricate sequence of little thorns has to be pressed
in order to open that lock. Once the lock is opened and the map spread out, you
see the oultline of fortress walls in the bottom left corner, neatly labeled
DOL GULDUR in khazad runes, the valley of the great ANDUIN to the right,
several tributaries, and in the center of it all, a hill, a cairn, numbers,
lines, runes and a lot of other things, some of it probably written in a
private code with inks difficult to read except under certain lighting
conditions. All you can decipher at a glance is the name Thrain, son of Thror,
and the names of some of the dwarves that were with him at the time he was
captured and tortured in Dol Guldur, a long, long time ago.

From outside the camp > Brican inspects Gumbart's map.
From outside the camp > Datain inspects Gumbart's map.

Brican nods as he looks down towards the map, "This is Dol Guldur, it's on the
southern tip of the great forrest called Mirkwood I believe, we'd have to
travel through the old forrest road to get there, isn't that dangerous, I have
heard there are leaping elves from every tree, ready to capture a dwarf on a
moments notice, spiders that jump and speed towards you without a blink of a
eye, do you think it is wise cousin to travel through such a dangerous land?"

You say, "This map will lead us to where Thrain left his most precious
possessions, when he knew he was going to be taken. He hid it with all his
powers and I am sure that he managed to seal the secrets in his mind so that
not even the black magic of Dol Guldur could discover Thrain's secret. The tale
has survived through some of the survivors, the ones that managed to escape.
Some of their names are listed here, right in the middle. I followed their
lead, I questioned their relatives, I cross checked the information, and I'm
sure that this is no lie!"

Gumbart nods, "And yes, Brican, the way is dangerous. I've heard about the
elves, too. But when I hear talk about trolls travelling through the lands
south of Mirkwood, then I know that the elves are not as vigilant as they used
to be."

Brican nods twoards Gumbart, "Aye, perhaps your right about that, but I'm not
sure which I fear more, meeting up with a elf, or having a rampaging troll on
my tail. I think it best if we post double guard from now on, we can't afford
to take any chances. Also our rations are running low so we should start
conversing, I'm not sure when we would get another chance to fill our water
barrels.

Datain shivers at the thought of elves and trolls, what else could I have
gotten into he asks himself. But Datain eases himself at the sight of Brican
and Gumbart who seem like they aren't too worried. "Lets say the trolls and
elves dont get us, if this treasure is guarded so well how do we know there are
no traps on the way?"

Gumbart grins, "Yes, I know about traps. There are two things to that: 1. I
hope that the traps are designed to trap orcs, creatures of Dol Guldur. 2. I've
brought Rimli along who seems to have a talent with certain kinds of locks...."
He smirks. "We'll just keep a low profile, get to the point on the map, figure
out how to enter Thrain's cache and get out of there as fast as possible."

Gumbart chuckles, rubbing his hands together.

Brican smiles towards Gumbart, "A plan, perhaps a good plan, but you will have
to excuse me if I keep the warders on double watch while we are in mirkwood,
never can be too careful. Aye, the thought of such a treasure is beyond the
mind, when we get back to our homes we will be famous I tell you."

Gumbart grins widely now, and says gleefully, the spark of greed shining bright
in his eyes, "Yes we will! Let the warders guard us, it won't matter once we're
rich beyond our wildest dreams!!"

With a yawn, Brican looks back over to his wagon and turns to the others, "I
have been on the road consently for the last 3 days, as all of us have, and I
think sleep is in order even if this confounded moskitos do not know the word,
I will dream of the treasure we bring back." With this he turns and walks back
to his wagon.

"Well we already are infamous, my cousin, if you don't remember. I hope we do
find something, just to clear our names." Datain imphasizes. With that Datain
turn and retires to his wagon and settles down for some much needed rest.

The dwarven talk about treasures, dangers, elves, orcs, gold and fame and
fortune (especially gold and fame and fortune!) keeps Gumbart awake for long
hours at the fire...

​#Elendor