[Rune Son of Bjarne]

Frór looked at the two hairballs that Penn had presentet for him and Ibun. Apperantly they where animals, but they reminded Frór mostley of some strange dish he once had eaten on a vissit to Lake-Town.

"My beard is for me alone and no animal shall come close to it as long as I can yield an ax, nomatter how friendly or small it is". Frór said with a twingle in his eye. He then litt his pipe and startet smoking, after some puffs he adressed Penn again.

"I have yet to see the marvels of what you call Dwarrowdelf or Phurunargian allthough I don't think the latter is used that often anymore. But If they are just half as magnificent as they say, It would still be the greates Dwarven Kingdom of them all and that is saying alot. My own home in the Iron Hills is a quite spectacular place, but nothing compared with Erebor and Aglarond should be even more amasing. Atleast so I have heard. For now I am Heading for the Blue Mountains seeking a relative of mine."

Frór finished his ale and porred him self another mug, no dwarf had ever been beaten in a drinking contest. Atleast not to his knowledge.