Toben walks over to Klale and places a hand on his shoulder. "It was worth a try, but it seems we are at a crossroads here. We can't ease her suffering without the last component and we haven't identified anyone that might qualify to supply the tear. We need to come up with other options."

"Let me calm her.  Rest from your trips.  Have a drink in town.  Sometimes not thinking about a thing gives you a fresh perspective."

Toben nods. "Yes, perhaps you're right. I'm sure we're all a bit weary from our travels. Let us know if there is anything you need in the interim. At the very least, I can go check on the forges."

The remembrance of the forges seems to bolster his mood a bit. He pays his respects to both Gwaelind and Delunaur before leaving.

"We'll figure this out" says Ryland, exiting with Toben.

Draugion follows behind Toben.

Klale apparently finds he's done an excellent job of sword-cleaning. He sheathes it and follows his companions with a troubled brow.

perhaps a bit of food would be good while we think on this puzzling situation Ano makes his way out with the others so Draugion what brings you to this place

Draugion glances at Ano. "That's a long story. To put it short, I have been asleep for almost a millennia, and awoke recently in what used to be an Elvin scout post in an area known as the 'Eklands.' I trekked towards where the Shire used to be, and eventually found myself among the company of Ryland and Toben. I have been following in this group since, because I am still not used to this different world." 

Back at the dwarven town, which they have started calling 'Dragon Forge', the five weary heroes find their way to the tavern.  It is rather empty this evening with only a few dwarves about speaking to one another in low tones.  At the bar, the one-eyed barista polishes a thick mug.  She nods a quick nod as the Men and Draugion enter.

In one corner, four dwarven warriors clank mugs and laugh at some joke.  Their helmets sit atop the handles of their weapons tilted against the table and occasionally bobble as the dwarves jostle the table with their merriment.

At the bar, a lone dwarf sings in a soft voice.  Unlike most of the others, he wears neither the armor of warriors or the apron and leather of forge workers.  Instead he wears a dingy blue duster and ocher-colored boots meant for long journeys in the wild.  A beat up old hat lays crumpled on the stool next to him.  His brown, frizzy beard is long and hangs below the stool but lacks the adornment of most dwarven men of that age.

Two dwarves in forge leathers - minus the aprons - huddle over their mugs and stare into the depths.  They speak no word and look positively glum.  One has fiery red hair, a long beard with many braids, beads, and metal bands.  Two faded black patches on his left forearm indicate scars from battles lost to the forge many decades ago.  The other is younger with straw-colored hair and a short beard.  His mustache hangs longer, and is well braided and adorned.  He looks like he has just been scolded.

Six more dwarves, probably miners or smiths, play some kind of dice game around the large circular table near the raised platform behind the central bar.  They laugh at the misfortunes of one of their number who takes it with good graces.

There is plenty of room at the bar and plenty of tables, though one of the heroes will have to pull a chair from somewhere else and sit at the end.  There is no music and all-in-all the tavern seems to be having a rather quiet night.  However, it is still rather early and more might arrive as time progresses.

Ryland tells the group he'll be with them shortly, and heads over to the bar and takes a seat next to the dwarf in traveling clothes. Taking note of what's in front of the dwarf, he orders two more, one for himself, and one for the traveler.

"You don't seem to carry the soot and coal fire smells of the area, Master dwarf. What word of the outside world do you bring?".

To his companion s who are withing whispering distance (not engaged in conversation), Klale says Maybe we can catch a cheater and reduce her or him to tears.

As Ryland approaches he hears the dwarf singing a tune.  It sounds vaguely familiar:


The voice is low and halting as if the singer is  broken up by the minor key haunting melody.

When Ryland asks his question the dwarf glances at him and mumbles, "the world is dark and has lost its songs."

Ryland sighs. "So it would appear. All the better reason for those of us with a voice to rekindle those fires then, don't you think?".

The old dwarf looks up at Ryland and gives him a slight smile and a nod.  "True enough, my friend.  Are you here to give us a song, young man?"

As Toben strolls in, he spots the pair of dwarves sitting by themselves. "Good evening, fellows. You two have the look of the forge about you. Mind if I sit with you a moment?"

The older one looks up and sees Toben.  "Master Ironsprings!  Of course, lad.  Please."  They make room for the scholar at the table.

Toben smiles warmly and takes a seat across the table from them. "Thank you. I couldn't help but notice you two looking a bit down. Is everything alright? Are the forges able to accommodate your mastery level of craftsmanship?"

Ano makes his way to the bar and asks for something to eat.  He is beginning to realize how little food and sleep he has had since this war started.  Perhaps it would be alright to take some time to fill himself.

Draugion approaches Ryland and the singing dwarf, finally taking some time to relax from his long trek.

Seeing that Ano is being sensible, Klale begins the task of feeding his body. After a couple of bites, he sits back, chuckles to himself, and says If eating is inevitable, relax and enjoy it.


Apologies in advance, and I discovered this to my surprise.

https://www.poemhunter.com/poe...inevitable-enjoy-it/ A translated poem.

Responding to the old dwarf, Ryland replies "For friends and the company of brethren dwarves, of course".

He scoots his stool away from the bar a few inches, and turns around letting his back rest against it as he sits his banjo across his lap. Winking at Draugion, he launches into a lively tune, tapping his foot loudly to keep time.

"Tell me ma when I go home
The boys won't leave the girls alone
They pull my hair, they stole my comb
But that's all right till I go home
She is handsome, she is pretty
She is the belle of Gondor city
She is a-courting one two three
Pray, would you tell me who is she

Albert Mooney says he loves her
All the boys are fighting for her
Knock at the door and they ring that bell
Oh my true love, are you well
Out she comes as white as snow
Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes
Old Jenny Murray says she will die
If she doesn't get the fella with the roving eye

Let the wind and the rain and the hail blow high
And the snow come a-tumbling from the sky
She's as nice as apple pie
And she'll get her own lad by and by
When she gets a lad of her own
She won't tell her ma till she comes home
Let them all come as they will
For it's Albert Mooney she loves still".

A good rendition of the song https://youtu.be/OguHnXcYiKU
This message was last edited by the player at 13:23, Wed 19 Dec 2018.

The older dwarven smith gives Toben a wan smile.  "Oh, aye, th' forges are magnificent wi' yer arcane upgrades. No, our faces reflect th' times.  News arrived from Moria tha' they are hard pressed t' fight back th' ever increasin' horde of Valaraukar.  Naught we can do 'ere, but we both ha' family there.  Young Karben 'ere is worried about 'is bonnie lass."

Karben nods and takes a long pull on the ale.

The old smith Pat's Toben's hand.  "Thankee kindly for yer concern, lad.  We'll drink an ale then get back t' doin' our part 'ere where we can do th' most good."

The four warriors clean their table and leave the dishes in the center neat and tidy for the server to pick up.  They leave happy and clasping one another on the shoulder.

Toben smiles back at the dwarven smiths and stands up. "Well then, I'll leave you both to it. Keep up the brilliant work and don't hesitate to find me if something comes up."

He turns and walks over to the bar where Ryland is singing another one of his ballads. He quietly gets the attention of the barkeep while standing on the other side of the old dwarf.

The oddly dressed dwarf looks over at Toben and smiles politely.  "You look troubled, young man."  His voice is merry, almost mischievous, but rich with kindness too.  It is also decidedly not with a dwarven accent.

Had Toben not just returned from hobbit territory, he could not have placed the man's speech.