Here follows the account has the Dwarf, Waldin son of Haldin, came by the name Warghewer.
The caravan consisted of six, whom guided a horse-drawn wagon laden with silk and other fine materials. Behind the wagon were the brothers, Abrald and Adrald, who, despite being young (in their late teens), had bows strung on their backs with a quiver full of arrows. Aboard the wagon sat their mother, Erlong, and younger sister called Malib. Finally, walking ahead of the caravan was Bronthos, husband of Erlong and father of her children. He was tall and slim, yet had much strength in his arms. Although his dark hair was scruffy and sat upon his shoulders, the man’s beard was finely trimmed and curled in places. These were Dale-folk, merchants who braved the Misty Mountains in order to trade their goods throughout Eriador. Bronthos was a dealer of fabrics, from which he and his family made a living. They had no fixed home, apart from in Dale. It was in taverns and inns that they found rest in, though it was not an ideal life.
They had set of from Bree seven days ago, and were well into the Lone Lands now. The East Road was treacherous, with reports of merchants simply disappearing from the tracks. Bronthos knew of the dangers, and had therefore hired an escort. He was picked up at the Prancing Pony, in Bree. Waldin son of Haldin was his name, a Dwarf of the Blue Mountains. The Dwarf was not well-known in the land, but assured Bronthos that he would be able to get the goods to Dale. Now he walked beside Bronthos, in front of the wagon.
‘Tell me, master Dwarf, where is that you hail from?’ Bronthos asked. It was now night time, and there was silence all around them.
‘Ah!’ Waldin son of Haldin exclaimed. There had been little talk for some hours now, and the ice had finally been broken. ‘It is within the Blue Mountains, northwards in the Halls of Thorin that I was born in. But it has been long since I have called it home. Nay, my home is wherever work can be found.’
‘That we can relate to, me and my family.’ Replied Bronthos, turning behind to look at them with a solemn look. Both his wife and daughter were sound asleep, resting on the packed fabrics beneath the cover. His sons continued to walk behind, yet it was clear that they were growing weary.
The caravan continued to push on. By Bronthos’ orders, Abrald and Adrald now slept beside their mother. The silence ensued, with naught but the sound of the creaking wheels.
‘What do you say to setting camp for the night, Master Dwarf?’ Asked Bronthos, his face was now grimmer than ever – fatigue was clearly present.
‘I say nay.’ Waldin spoke in response. His head turned towards the distance, a fog was creeping around the caravan. ‘This road is too dangerous. We must press on to Ost Guruth. It is not three days away, if we pick up the pace.’
‘Then your word I trust.’
‘When the sun has risen, perhaps then you can take a moments rest. No threat here may find us in the light.’
The sun rose some hours later, and the wagon was pulled onto the side of the road. A small fire was made by Waldin, of which the family gathered around. Here Bronthos rested his eyes for a while, whilst the others ate. An hour passed, and the caravan set off once again, now picking up the pace considerably. Abrald and Adrald rushed behind the wagon, whilst Bronthos and Waldin were almost running.
‘Father!’ Yelled Abrald, now holding onto the wagon in order to keep up. ‘Why do we travel at such speed?’
‘We must make it to the ruin of Ost Guruth soon, son. Once we reach there, the road becomes less treacherous. After we pass the Last Bridge, hopefully we will be protected.’
The pace was kept up throughout the afternoon. Waldin and Bronthos continued to run, whilst Abrald and Adrald took regular breaks by hopping on the back of the wagon. By nightfall, the pace had dropped and they were now at walking speed. All of them were silently aware that something was around them. The night before it was silent, but now there was rustling in the distance.
‘Perhaps just a fox.’ Said Erlong, she had long been silent but now spoke clearly. Despite these reassuring words, her hand was gripped to her daughter.
‘Nay.’ Waldin replied, he eyes narrowing ahead of the road. ‘There is something on the road.’
‘Or someone.’ Bronthos spoke quietly, now drawing his sword from his belt. Waldin followed suit.
The wagon pushed ahead slowly, the object on the road now drawing close. Abrald and Adrald had they bows at the ready, though their hands were unsteady. At last, the figure wreathed in the fog became clear.
‘Goblins!’ Roared Waldin, taking a firm stance. With that, arrows now flew at the caravan, narrowly missing the family. Bronthos and Waldin charged at the pack of Goblins, who numbered around ten. Abrald and Adrald fired arrows hopelessly, their aim was distorted by fear. Erlong and Malib hid beneath the wagon, screaming loudly.
Waldin and Bronthos returned to the caravan, having repelled the attackers into a retreat. At once, Bronthos turned to the Dwarf, his face grim and covered in the black blood of Goblins. ‘You must take Erlong and Malib away from here. Find a cave! Me, Abrald and Adrald will hold them off when they return. I shall find you when we are done. Go!’
With some reluctance, Waldin grabbed them both and pushed them away, heading north from the road. They wept and yelled for their kinsmen, who were now disappearing into the fog. The Dwarf led them to a collection of large rocks, which formed a cover from the road. Erlong and Malib rested themselves against the stone whilst their guardian took up a firm position, looking around warily, growling quietly.
‘We must go back for them!’ Yelled Erlong, still weeping loudly.
‘I cannot do that, lady. My service is with your husband, who was ordered me here. Please, be silent, for the ears of Goblins are honed to fear and despair.’
Silence now fell over them; no sound of clanging metal or yells of anger; or of pain. Although Waldin was eager to head back to the road, his orders were to protect his wife and daughter.
‘I hear nothing, please, we must return to the road. For good or ill.’ Erlong pleaded, holding her daughter’s hand.
‘Nay. We wait for your husband to return, or we wait until morning to break cover.’
Erlong now rose up, in her eyes was the strength of her husband. She pushed the Dwarf aside and led her daughter down towards the road. From the foliage, something rustled and grunted. But the two paid no notice to this, and continued to march.
‘Lady, no!’ Roared Waldin. At this moment, a giant wolf like beast leapt from the foliage and separated the women from the Dwarf. Its attention was fixed on the two, and from its mouth thick saliva fell to the floor. ‘Warg!’
As the two backed away from the beast, it continued to make up the distance. It growled, bearing its teeth at them. Erlong stood in front of her daughter, shaking somewhat, but not making a sound. Waldin now gripped his sword in both hands, growling in a similar way to the best.
‘Over here you over-sized mutt!’ He yelled, unsure of why he was trying to draw its attention. The beast outsized him considerably. The Dwarf gave yet another roar, this one louder than before. His sword thrusted forward, as the Warg leapt towards him. Eyes closed and teeth gritted, this was certain to be the end. But, a second later there he stood. Both Erlong and Malib were frozen at the site. Upon the floor was the Warg, it had been split in half by Waldin’s sword. No such sight had been seen by any in presence, a great beast cleaved in two by a single stroke. From the road, the yells of Abrald and Adrald could be heard, clear as day. The three now rushed towards it, finding many Goblin carcasses lying around the caravan.
Erlong embraced her sons with much relief, yet the cries of Malib put this moment to an untimely end. Bronthos was propped up against the wagon’s wheel, bleeding heavily with a rusted dagger plunged into his chest. Erlong lowered herself down to him, holding his face gently. Upon looking at her, his darkened eyes lit up.
‘You are alive.’ He spoke quietly. ‘I feared that they had taken you.’
‘No, dear husband. Thanks to Waldin, me and Malib were unharmed. A Warg he felled, with a single blow.’
Bronthos now struggled for breath, wheezing slightly. But his face was gladdened. ‘A great debt I owe him, then. Here we see the true fellowship between the Dwarves and the Men of Dale.’ He paused again, trying to catch his breath. ‘A single blow to fell a Warg? Never before have I heard of such a tale. Warghewer I name you, may this great deed be with you for the rest of your days.’
To each of his children, he bid farewell. To his wife, he gave a final embrace. There would be no healing this wound, for the poison upon it was unforgiving. To both Erlong and Waldin he spoke to with his final breath.
‘Continue on from here, to Dale. For there is nothing that I can support you with in death. Waldin son of Haldin, I bid that you protect them to the end. Farewell now.’ With that, he passed away quietly. As his family wept, Waldin piled up the carcasses of the fallen Goblins, and burnt them on one side of the road. On the other, Bronthos was set alight, and his body burnt bright as a beacon.
The caravan set off, yet there was no talk or song. Waldin now walked ahead, leading them on towards Ost Guruth.
‘Warghewer.’ He said to himself. ‘Aye, that will do.’
