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Bali sat at the bar, sipping at his fresh ale. He was satisfied that the dwarves had managed a full days march, but he knew that there would be no inns from Laketown onward. It would be rough country, and it would take them time to adjust. After all, Erebor had been an incredibly safe and comfortable home.
Seeing the Bartender without anyone to wait on, Bali motioned him to come over. The man seemed uncomfortable, knowing that the dwarf wanted information. He came slowly. "Uh... you must be Bali. Many folk know ye in these parts. You saved the Mountain, didn't ye?"
Bali smiled. Ever since he had led a group of warriors from the Shire to Erebor, in an effort to stall the orc army threatening his home until a Gondorian army arrived, he had gained quite exaggerated recognition. But it was not entirely unwanted. "Aye, but I didn't save Erebor. Twas the warriors with me. One of em's with me now, over there. Durin's 'is name. Fine young lad. But that's not why we're here."
The Bartender looked even less comfortable. "Aye.... word is that you're goin' to Rhûn. Rough country out there."
Bali leaned forward, interested. "Rough country? Not from what I've read. Mountains on one corner, forests on another. Straight, flat land surrounding the sea..."
"Well, I can't say I know much about it, but from what I hear, most maps are wrong. Its a rocky jungle, the whole way around." The man lowered his voice to a discreet level. "And some folk say that spirits haunt the land... paths, there are, but never anyone on them. And the paths never get grown over. No, not many travel out to Rhûn."
Bali sat back, disgesting the information he had recieved. The maps, maybe they were wrong. And there might be no treasure at all. But spirits? No, the dwarf knew that such things haunted mountains and caves... the deep places of the ancient dread lord Morgoth. But not Rhûn.... And so the dwarf began to realize what the Bartender's words meant. It couldn't be spirits, but then.....
Rhûn was inhabited.
The thought struck the dwarf like a thunderbolt. There were creatures there, nocturnal, which made paths by night. They were stealthier than wolves or wargs, quieter than eagles, and probably fairly large. But what about people... could they exist? No. Contact would have been made.
Bali suddenly broke away from his thoughts. The younger dwarves were probably drinking in the stories and worries, and would be asking to return to Erebor by the following evening. The dwarf walked over to where Dwalin was sitting, and wispered into his ear: "We leave tomorrow morning. Spread the word, and if asked why... say that we are short on money, and wish to save some for the return journey."
Bali was surprised, and pleased to find that his brother merely nodded. Dwalin had already thought about the same things, and had probably drawn the same conclusion. It is about time that he started to think like a leader.
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