Twas as cold an night as any dwarf was use to and would be. Fenninro and his father Dorendon had been on a campaign in the name of the Dourhand army, though more of an adventurer Fenninro enjoyed a good battle and learning from his father. News had come that the Dourhand that Fenninro had known was not what they appeared to be and for the first time. Dorendon and Fenninro decided that it was time to split out from the campaign while the Dourhands slept.
The two dwarves slipt out in the darkness and headed for the greatness of Thorins Hall in hopes that the mighty king would forgive the things that they had done in service to the Dourhand and perhaps find a place among true kin. Fenninro was not so hopeful as his father and decided to follow and watch to see what might transpire. The king sat mighty on his thrown but also was forgiving for those that came forth and seemed, just and honest in the things they had done and how they wanted to be not only dwarf but the many other races that roamed the halls. Fenninro also accepted a place among the dwarves of the hall but struck out on his own adventures and not stand behind his fathers shadow.
In the times that although young Fenninro would touch back with his father to share a tale, ale and smoke. Dorendon and had on a couple occasions mentioned that he had come across a company of dwarves that felt like he was home and welcomed amongst them as kin and felt goodness within them. Fenninro was later to run into the company Dorendon had spoke of Khuzd Belkur. Fenninro was welcomed among them as well and as his father had told him feels like home.
And so another journey begins....
