Dagdalin paces about the dais, occasionally looking at a parchment in his hand and grumbling.
Torbor fills a mug from a nearby keg and mumbles to himself. "Better be a good batch....."
Neldi makes his way into the main room and immediately walks over to the conveniently placed keg. He grabs a mug and pours himself a drink.
Olmandis looks over a tome in the coal light, peering through his specs.
Neldi takes a drink of his ale, seeing as no one seemed to have noticed him enter. "My, quite a lively evening, eh?"
Olmandis places a strip of crimson cloth in his book and methodically puts the tome back in its place on his pack.
Olmandis says, 'Good evening...'
Dagdalin looks up. "Ah! Neldi, glad you're here, lad." He looks a few years older than when Neldi had last seen him, though still recognizably younger than most in the Order.
Olmandis peers over his specs.
Olmandis says, 'Why, Master Neldi, it has been a time.'
Olmandis says, 'Here now, Dagdalin, it hasn't been that long, and master Neldi is...quite ugly enough to cause tears.'
Dagdalin bows his beard a mite. "I am glad to hear of it, Master Neldi. It does seem as though our workmanship is rather prized abroad."
Neldi nods. "Even for such small trifles as rings and necklaces and the like."
Olmandis says, 'Yes, indeed, fine to hear. I trust your time has been interesting and fruitful>'
Neldi nods. "It has. I've learned quite a bit, and my collection of lore on the subject has certainly helped me come up with ideas and the like. I actually just finished furnishing a more suitable abode not far from Uncle Tornstenn's house."
Neldi turns around to hear the door and coughing. "Hmm, interesting entrance..."
Dagdalin smiles. "I'm glad that you've found a place to settle down, Neldi, especially after all that turmoil in the Vale a few months ago."
Zeldi is rumoured by his unmistakable 'thuds' upon the stone floor - until at last he stands in the doorway. His apperance a bit more haggard than usual thanks to a solid month or two in the wilds.
Dagdalin harrumphs, though he is smiling. "And here is our esteemed Uzbad, returning from Maker knows where. Welcome home, Zeldi."
Zeldi scoffs and flips some of his messy hair out from his face, "I was killing what was left of the uruks... You're welcome." He thuds forward with a grin on his face and pats Neldi firmly on the shoulder, "Little brother."
Olmandis bows his beard to Zeldi.
Neldi sees Zeldi enter and says, "Ah, so the hero returns! Oh confound it, I left my return gift at home, a bushel of onions for the lord!" There is sarcasm in Neldi's voice, as usual, but it's not as biting as it used to be.
Olmandis grimaces at that.
Olmandis says, 'Oh, please allow me to greet the next enclave of elves I meet with onion on my breath in honor of our onion loving lord.'
Olmandis grins a bit.
Olmandis says, 'I like to make them squirm a bit.'
Dagdalin smiles warmly. "Thankee, Zeldi, I thought the orcs were eerily quiet."
Zeldi grunts, "I had my fill of onions on the warpath..." There is a healing cut on Zeldi's forehead. He looks to Olmandis and gives a toothy grin, a short and sudden exhale in place of a chuckle.
Dagdalin laughs. "Don't we all, Father? I've even taken to taking potshots at them occasionally."
Neldi waves a hand before his face, "Yes, I can smell that..." He then asks, "And how did the campaign fare? Are the foul spawn destroyed?"
Zeldi steps back and thuds toward the table, "Most the Blue Crag had ran out after the uruks... That's why it's quiet here. The company and some Breelanders made quick work of them. A Breeman actually pointed us toward their camp.
Olmandis says, 'Ah, such is how the dwarves war. Many among humanity would see an enemy fleeing. We would only see the most stalwart, cunning, or lucky to survive, only to regroup.'
Zeldi leans an arm on the table with a grunt.
Neldi raises his mug to that and takes a drink.
You say, 'Yet, I believe that we will hear little from the Blue Crags and orcs for some time yet.'
Zeldi narrows his eye, "While our land seems to grow quiet though, the longshank land was full of dark goings-ons."
Zeldi sniffs once and glances down, "Though OUR orcs are dead... buisness concluded."
Neldi nods. "Yes, let them cower in their dark dank caves that they call halls!" He then quiets down as he listens to Zeldi.
Dagdalin looks down at the parchment in his hand, paling a bit. "Aye, there's been much afoot south and east of us in the lands of Men."
Zeldi glances to Dagdalin, moving some hair from his face again. "That right?"
Olmandis says, 'That there has. We pushed many caravans of goods, war time provisions, into Erebor.'
Zeldi perks an eyebrow, "Erebor? This about those few Easterling bands testing the borders?"
Zeldi shakes out a hand for a moment before thudding to a keg casually.
Olmandis says, 'I wonder if they wish to mire us. Their host is large, but we've also insulted them and I believe they cannot let that slight go.'
You say, 'That's what we've been hearing, aye. And war in Gondor, I've heard.'
Neldi runs his hand through his hair. "The days in the east have been dark for some time, hence my appearance here."
Zeldi fills up the tankard, "Gondor is ALWAYS at War... Men are always at war with men..."
Olmandis nods his beard sadly at that.
Neldi turns to Zeldi as he says, "But it wasn't just against other men, at least not what Father said."
[Kinship] Neldi: Is this before or after we knew of the fall of Sauron?
Zeldi turns about with a full mug now to Neldi, "When last did father speak with you? I must've missed the bird..."
You say, 'That's the reports that I've been getting, Neldi.'
Olmandis says, 'Our folk are simpler yet more complex at the same moment: men's complexity is like striated rock. There's always another layer beneath the surface.'
Olmandis says, 'But men thrive on trade and power, even if they do not know it.'
Zeldi grunts at this and takes a deep drink.
Neldi says, "Father spoke with me before I left Erebor to come here, so not all that long ago. It's not just the easterlings and southerners that are troubling the men of Gondor, so the emissaries told him. The orcs were also growing stronger and bolder."
Zeldi snorts and motions toward the Halls, "I could've told you that..."
Zeldi takes a drink.
Neldi grunts. "Wasn't that where that Calston fellow went off to?"
Olmandis says, 'Gondo is also...fractured and still proud.'
Zeldi mutters, "Hell if I know where that vagabond is... I wish him safety wherever it might be though."
Zeldi takes a drink.
Olmandis says, 'At that, we've set up something novel: the First Bank of Erebor, a chapter located in Gondor. It made me quite popular when I ventured to Minis Tirith.'
Zeldi nearly chokes on his drink from the laughter, "The BANK of Erebor? In Gondor? I have never seen those lands yet the very thought of it..." He chuckles and shakes his head more.
Neldi nods to Olmandis as he takes another drink of ale. "A capitol idea."
Olmandis says, 'Capitol, indeed, is our aim.'
Zeldi says, 'I could run a bank of Gondor better than any ancient man who they have behind the counter, I know that much...'
Neldi *capital
Zeldi takes a drink.
Olmandis says, 'We are sitting upon a sea of coin. My suggestion is, if we don't, at least, loan it out, we make ourselves as if we appear we're willing to do so.'
Dagdalin smiles. "And Father is our Ambassador-at-large in the region, along with being the Bank's head."
Olmandis says, 'Man is...not like our folk. Less communion with the great good, each vying for their own secure potential. At the least, this has taught me who are among the most enterprising.'
Neldi nods. "And if war is brewing, that'd certainly increase their desire for money, and put more into our pockets with loans."
Zeldi takes a step forward, "Wouldn't be surprised if these eastern folk are on the payroll of someone... Would explain it."
Neldi turns and nods to Zeldi's suggestion.
Dagdalin nods. "I wouldn't be surprised." He looks at the parchment in his hand. "And I believe I know just who it was."
Olmandis says, 'Many folk are already beleagured, but I feel I have a sense for the unscrupulous. Of course, there will be talk of dwarves themselves capitolizing upon the issues, but that does not change their need, and those grumblings only mean we've leverage.'
Zeldi grunts and looks to Dagdalin, "You do? Spit it out then, lad."
Olmandis says, 'Yes, I was wondering that myself. We deal in coin, I would think the Easterlings were promised a more valuable commidity: land.'
Neldi strokes his beard in thought. "They have often fought against Gondor for their land, if I remember the stories correctly..."
Olmandis says, 'Vengeance is also a plum, though I am curious of your findings, Overseer.'
Olmandis nods.
Dagdalin holds out the parchment to Zeldi. "I believe it was the Dark Lord...This letter arrived just last eve, from an elf I know that's taken residence in the far reaches of Gondor. She says on her way to her current location that she encountered many Men who claim that the Black Gate has been thrown down and the One Ring destroyed."
Olmandis raises a brow
Zeldi furrows his brow, "The Dark Lord? Blast... That's ancient history!" He looks to his brother, having heard a few tales from their father about such things.
Neldi , who was taking a drink of ale, starts choking briefly before regaining his composure.
Zeldi says, 'That dark bastard was cut down by some hero in distant antiquity.'
Zeldi says, 'I don't recall any names...'
Zeldi drinks to Dagdalin's health.
You say, 'I cannot yet prove the truth of this, of course, but I trust Aridana beyond measure."'
Zeldi looks to Olmandis, "Tell us about this DARK LORD then, Wordsmith. Would we know if such an evil returned?"
Dagdalin shakes his head. "We all thought that he was defeated, aye, yet it seems there is truth to this. Why else would the orcs prove so weak against us? You saw what I was able to do against that creature sent against us.
Zeldi grunts once, "Hmm... That's a point..."
Neldi says to Zeldi, "And even just as we've grown up, they've grown bolder."
Olmandis waves the hand not gripping his axe haft tightly.
Neldi grunts as he clarifies, "No stronger, or smarter, just bolder, more annoying, I ought to say."
Zeldi snaps a finger at Neldi, "Just like you and Torbor, brother!"
Zeldi snickers into his mug like a damned 40 year old.
Neldi gives a low, nearly inaudible, growl as he takes another drink of his ale.
Zeldi sighs, dying down from the chuckle. He glances to Olmandis, "What do you make of it then, Wordsmith. I'm curious."
Zeldi motions a hand, "I have my grandfather's knack for believing what I can see."
Neldi asides, with a more biting sarcasm now, "With one eye, no less."
Neldi takes another drink of ale.
Olmandis says, 'Of all folk, I trust Elrond of the Last Homely House, and the councils were not gathered lightly. I would say do not trust in baubles, as such brought low the alliance of dwarves and elves, but this ring has...bound us, in a way, and the orcs of Mordor and the Uruks born were fighting with vigor and with purpose, under leadership.'
Olmandis says, 'At that, I do not know if this ring is truly a power, but powerful certainly revolves around it.'
Zeldi has a bit of orc bile still clogged in his right ear - so Neldi's comment goes unheard. As Olmandis speaks, the young lord keenly listens.
Olmandis says, 'From what I've heard of the Council, the ring is a ...conduit.'
Zeldi perks a brow, a tad uncertain and unclear.
Dagdalin looks at Zeldi, paling a bit. "I've heard rumors of his return from that band that works for me in Breeland. Urfast and his crew...Last I heard from him, he was off to see for himself whether or not it was true." He thuds down the stairs, stopping mere inches from Zeldi. "Brother, he's right...and look at me besides. I've aged more than what mere battle can account for." +
Neldi stroks his beard as Olmandis speaks, listening intently.
Zeldi looks down at Dagdalin, his expression set in stone as the dwarf boldly speaks.
Olmandis strokes his beard, a clear sign he's thinking, and lights his pipe, setting his axe down nearby.
Neldi adds, "And Father was not one to be afraid of anything. He was genuinely concerned for my safety, which is why he wanted me to seek safety here, in the West."
Dagdalin continues, looking up at Zeldi intently. "You know how close I was with Aridana, and what we did in the Vale. What you don't know is that she holds a staff possessed by the spirit of a being one pledged to Mordor. It is this being's regret for that and desire for redemption that led it to work for the Free Peoples after its physical death."
Zeldi looks down at Dagdalin, truly taking in his council. He simply nods for a moment before looking over to Neldi, "You say father was concerned... did he give you any clear reason why?"
Dagdalin pauses for a moment, waiting for Neldi to respond before continuing.
Olmandis says, 'There is much we do not have knowledge of, and in the councils taken, we can confide in our allies, despite our differences and grudges.'
Neldi answers, "He wouldn't tell me much, which was also rather unusual for him, but he said that the days were growing ever darker, and feared the retribution of Mordor, given an emissary went to Erebor from Mordor some time ago, whom Dain promptly saw off."
Olmandis says, 'That is the slight. .'
Olmandis says, 'Mordor is not lightly refused.'
Zeldi tightens up a bit at the news of an 'emissary'. He glances to Olmandis as he speaks. The pieces were coming together...
Olmandis draws his pipe from beneath his sleave and stuffs it with some tobacc from a pouch beneath his beard.
Olmandis holds up the pouch and tosses it to Dagdalin.
Dagdalin deftly catches the pouch, filling his own pipe and lighting it before tossing it back.
Olmandis catches the pouch deftly and tosses it to Zeldi
Zeldi catches the pouch like clockwork then tosses it to Neldi before taking a drink. He looks down to Dag again, "So... You reckon it's The Dark Lord of old. What makes you think it's THE one and not some other dark terrible thing from the depths?"
Olmandis shrugs.
Olmandis says, 'What brought the storm did not matter, it mattered the storm was upon us.'
Zeldi points off with his tankard, "Well, what was left of the storm that hit us is dead in a ditch to the east..."
Dagdalin looks at Zeldi. "I know because in my encounter with that being, I felt something stirring in the East-some old calling that this thing had. In helping this creature, I gave up many of the years of the end of my life. Both to save Aridana and her mother and to learn what the creature might know."
Neldi caught the pouch and takes a bit of pipe-weed for himself, tossing it back to Olmandis, bowing his head in thanks.
Olmandis snatches the pouch out of the air and tucks it back beneath his beard.
Olmandis begins to smoke with Large Purple Rug.
Neldi begins to smoke.
Zeldi strokes his beard, keenly listening to Dagdalin speak. He didn't understand the magic of the dwarf - he didn't understand magic much at all. Yet for whatever reason, against better judgement... he believed Dagdalin.
Dagdalin pales as he takes a deep drag from his pipe. "I saw little, but there was a great Eye wreathed in flame. That, if nothing else, is corroborated by this letter." He lifts the parchment still in his hand. "And by the rumors that Urfast spoke of."
Zeldi ponders this for a moment before taking a healthy drink of ale. "I know little of the macabe signs of this world... Yet that is foreboding."
Dagdalin nods. "I am still yet a novice at such things, Zeldi, yet I believe we are on the cusp of either the end of the world as we've known it or a new Age of hope."
Neldi says, "Where light shines, shadows grow also. If a new age is upon us, I don't believe we'd be without a new danger."
Zeldi simply mutters, "Well that's a lot to swallow..." He glances to Neldi as he speaks.
Dagdalin nods. "Very much so." He looks to Zeldi. "And hard to believe. I would not hold it against you if you do not believe me, Uzbad. I can only tell you what my reports say and my heart tells me."
Olmandis says, 'Hmm. At that, we are dwarves. We shall deal with the enemies at the gate.'
Zeldi motions his tankard toward the halls again, "As our uruk friends have shown us already..."
Olmandis says, 'But, ring regardless, I am inclined to agree: we are at a precipace.'
Olmandis says, 'Whatever is guiding the forces along is doing with with single minded determination.'
Zeldi gives a concerned grunt and takes a drink.
Olmandis says, 'It could simple be inspiring leadership."
Olmandis says, 'I wonder. Each finger is indeed rising up, making a fist...orcs, uruks, Easterlings.'
Dagdalin turns to Olmandis. "Aye, and one aimed at all the Free Folk."
Zeldi says, 'Then we keep smacking any who come our way back...'
Neldi says again, in passing, "Water against rock doesn't prevail until many years later."
Olmandis says, 'In any case, I would feel as each finger was drawn into a fist against us, I would seek to divide us. It would not be heard, given out...pasts.'
Dagdalin sighs. "Aye, but there are those who would be tempted to follow where those fingers point."
Olmandis says, 'Thus...diplomacy.'
Olmandis shrugs and looks his age for a brief moment.
Neldi nods. "They're still two fingers short of a fist, though that's only what we can see."
Zeldi chuckles a bit at Neldi.
Zeldi nods and waggles a finger at his brother, agreeing.
Olmandis says, 'When your opponent cannot even muster flexing their fingers...'
Olmandis says, 'The kin of the Seven Fathers square off against the Children of Ilúvatar, and the children squabble as siblings are wont to do.'
Zeldi doesn't understand half of what Olmandis says and it shows on his face.
Zeldi grunts and takes a drink.
Olmandis nods to Zeldi
Olmandis says, 'Instead, old slight and old wounds.'
Neldi nods. "Ought to put some rings on those fingers, gives a punch a bit more to them... That'll come once we're all united though, which might take some time yet."
Dagdalin lays the parchment on the table, stepping back a bit. "And little enough effort to make peace. If I am able, I mean to change that."
Zeldi glances to Dag.
Olmandis says, 'Were I some...incredible, terrible force bent upon taking over, and...well, dwarven supremacy aside...my enemies warring amonst themselves rathern than united would be what I relied upon.'
Neldi nods. "But of course, the Dark Lord capitalized on that division, but it seems to have failed him, as the fist came together, at least partially."
Zeldi scoffs, "The great houses of dwarves have not warred in centuries against one another..."
Dagdalin looks at Zeldi with a spark rarely seen from the younger dwarf. "Well spoken, Olmandis, and a united enemy is a far greater threat. I mean to go to Erebor and seek permission for our Order to make alliances on behalf of the King and the Houses."
Olmandis says, 'Bah, the seven will unite, but even then, we have the Dourhands.'
Olmandis says, 'Further, men, dwarves and elves should be united.'
Neldi turns to Dagdalin and stares, surprised to hear such a notion.
Olmandis says, 'Can you imagine, in fact, if we were?'
Zeldi looks to Dagdalin and perks both brows.
Olmandis says, 'We already have trade on our side, and that is the most common language.'
You say, 'I can, and have. Not only would our folk be the stronger -and richer!- for it, but we'd have a measure of the prominence we once enjoyed, and we could use that to truly restore all that we've worked so hard for.'
Zeldi nods some, "Tighter connections with the holds beyond the Misties is crucial for growth. One cannot deny that..."
Olmandis says, 'Careful there, Overseer.'
Olmandis says, 'Steady, delicate, deliberate steps.'
Zeldi looks to Olmandis, heeding his words in part.
Dagdalin turns to Olmandis. "That's what I've been doing, Father. Were it not for the caution you've taught me, I'd have left for Erebor already.
Olmandis says, 'Aye, I've suspected as much.'
Dagdalin chuckles a bit. "You know me well, Olmandis."
Olmandis says, 'When in doubt in politics, and you want to push something through...make it appear as if someone else thought of the idea.'
Neldi yawns. "Do pardon me, but I believe I shall be on my way. Affairs concerning the course of action for the Order, or its members, is beyond me. I'll be at my home, just up the hill from Uncle Tornstenn's, if anyone wishes to visit. The hearth is warm and the ale is well aged."
Olmandis winks at Dagdalin. Interesting.
Olmandis begins to smoke with Dagdalin.
Olmandis says, 'Fine seeing you, Neldi.'
Zeldi looks to Neldi and nods, "Mind the old goat's snoring..." He forces a smile.
Neldi bows to Olmandis. "And you as well, master Olmandis." He then turns to Zeldi and laughs, sincerely, "Oh, it's already kept me up a night or two!"
Olmandis bows his beard a might to his kinsmen.
Dagdalin smiles. "Glad to see you again, Neldi. My own home is just around the corner from here and the door is always open. Ale and food in plenty, of course."
Zeldi points at his brother, "He has a good point..." A yawn slowly grows and he shakes it off. "The end of the world can wait till morning..." He looks to Dag and Olmandis.
Olmandis says, 'Go, sleep. We shall do as we always do. Win wars.'
Dagdalin nods. "We can do little tonight but talk. These things can wait until morning.'
Neldi bows as he takes his leave.
Zeldi exhales roughly and nods some. He waggles a finger at the two, "Keep an eye out..." He thuds off.
Dagdalin nods. "Of course, Zeldi." He goes about making coffee.
