The Sun was only just starting to touch the peaks of the Blue Mountains, but deep beneath them, in the tavern of Thorin’s Halls, the light was already dim. Kveltrild, a well-respected Longbeard woman, sat at a long oaken table at one end of the room. With her was a black-bearded Dwarf named Vokyr who wore a fine crimson robe, swirling its ends as he paced up and down in anticipation. Luckily he did not have too long to wait for soon the retainers of the Firebeard Borimi Veinbolt stomped into the tavern. The first of them was well known to Kveltrild and Vokyr, for he was Pheili, Lord Veinbolt’s seneschal. After bowing to them he introduced his companions. The first was Rophealin, a gnarly-faced fellow who had served the Veinbolt before he took his trip to Erebor. Then Pheili named Zhan, a Dwarf with much to say, and Siggald, an elderly trader who had only recently entered Lord Borimi’s service. “And last but most definitely not least,” said Pheili, “Let me introduce Master Mitas, nephew and ward of Lord Borimi.”
“A relative of Borimi? In that case you must let us buy you all a drink,” insisted Kveltrild, ever one to remember her manners. Mitas started to politely refuse her offer but kept silent on a sign from Pheili, much to the relief of his companions. Sitting at the table they happily quaffed their ale and exchanged the appropriate pleasantries. Mitas spoke of his profound interest in plant life and herbalism, to which Kveltrild responded by warning him that there were many knowledgeable Firebeards in Thorin’s Halls and that he might do best to avoid them. Her tone was jovial and the assembled Dwarf-men were unsure whether she meant that Mitas’ knowledge paled in comparison to these other scholars or that knowledgeable Firebeards could be rather tedious. Either way Mitas took it as an insult: “Why does the lass warn me? Does she take me for some kind of idiot?” Kveltrild simply smiled and said nothing while an awkward silence gripped the Dwarves. Pheili, ever their saviour, broke it by declaring, “Well, meetings such as this are excellent for getting to know one another!”
“Oh yes,” said Vokyr, suddenly exhaling along with the other Dwarves, “And a good chance to listen to your tales!”
“Yes, let us hear a tale!” said Siggald, eager for the conversation to quickly move on.
“Then I shall tell you of my recent travels in Talath Gaun,” said Rophealin, setting a grim tone, “I speak of my times in the scarlet mire, the bloody marsh, the abode of the Red Maid.”
“Dark things you speak of,” commented Siggald, who had hoped for a happier tale.
“Dark, yes. And true,” began Rophealin in what would would become a heavy discussion of the fallen river-maiden, the incursions of the Creoth and the unfortunate plight of the Eglain.
Siggald had barely touch his ale. On most occasions when he drank, and these were often, he would be over and under the table before most had finished their first cup. This time though, he restrained himself since he wanted to make a good impression on Lord Borimi’s ward and seneschal. When there was a pause in the talking, however, he did climb up onto the table, though his feet remained steady. “Friends, the time has come for a song and so I shall sing you a little ditty I picked up during my last trip to the Shire!” He then sang to a lively tune:
“Merry was young Merridew, merry was her home,
Merry were her chestnut locks that never saw a comb,
Tasty were the cakes she baked, tasted of lingering lime,
And she danced among the dandelions in the Summertime,”
The Dwarves all laughed, Pheili most of all, and Siggald dismounted the table. Three Longbeards named Hilfar, Alhvar and Thorlaen noticed the revelry and so they join the merry throng. Rophealin produced a lute and struck up a tune which all the Dwarves enjoyed, the earlier unpleasantness forgotten. Mitas then called for Pheili to play and, slightly reluctantly, he did so and the tune sent the Dwarrows into a rhythmical frenzy, eschewing the usual grimness of their kind.
Notice: With the Laurelin server shutting down, our website will soon reflect the Meriadoc name. You can still use the usual URL, or visit us at https://meriadocarchives.org/
A Merry Meeting of Dwarrows
Submitted by Siggald on July 25th, 2014
