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Maron Sandbrace
"My boots are itching to be off" he grumbled to himself.
Maron was not the tallest of the company, and in the middle of the fray he could see very little. But the mountain looming over him was enough to send a rush through his blood and put a grin on his face.
"We're so close! Let us be off soon!"
Overall Maron had still not done justice on the trip. He sat with a sullen expression while they were in Mirkwood, and did not need to bother raising his axe in the talk with those Elf-folk. Truth be told he had spoken to very few, save maybe Oin, and that had been before the start of their journey.
'Well, I was not here to be jester, nor center of a party" he thought "I am here for True Silver, as are all that came here. I wont forget that..."
His mind caught up, he landed square into the back of the dwarf in front of him. With a mutter of apology, he did not look up to see some of the dwarves were on edge. It seemed something had happened up front. He heard the whizz of an arrow and gulped...
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