[Boromir88]

Gror's long journey from Erebor was just about over. Gror had lost count of how many days it's been since he left. With no company, it felt like he had been following the Great River for years. He had turned west before reaching the Realm of that Sorceress Witch. Nasty place it was, he had heard, much worse than Mirkwood, and the thought of Mirkwood (which Gror had avoided as well), brought a sense of bitterness in him.

However, Gror had long forgotten about the Elves, he had spotted an Enemy that filled him with an even deeper hatred - Orcs, and a great host of them. He had spotted them not two nights ago, heading up the Silverlode. He then had headed straight for the East Gate with as much haste as possible. He didn't want to explore the matter further; someone had to warn Balin. Such a large gathering of Orcs could only mean one thing - they were out for blood.

He did feel at ease, being in the mountains again. It brought a feeling of relief that he hadn't felt since leaving his home. He doubted Moria would have the splendour of the Lonely Mountain, but the thought of being in the halls of Durin and in the presense of Balin filled Gror with excitement.

Gror was in such a day-dream state he took no notice that someone else had been watching him, until he heard a shout:

"By Durin's beard! It's a Dwarf!"

That couldn't have been the voice of any other, except a dwarf. Gror was just glad to be in the company of another dwarf again. He had practically forgotten what it had felt like. The dwarf introduced himself as Oin. Gror noticed that he was a much older dwarf, and with him was a special aura that Gror couldn't describe. In truth Gror was filled with excitement, but he didn't want to come off as giddy, and embarass himself in the company of someone like Oin.

"Gror, at your service." He said bowing, remembering what his dad had taught him about showing respect to his elders. "Yes, I am here by the orders of King Dain, and am to speak with Balin. But, there are more pressing matters, I fear. A terrible threat approaches, that I was not expecting. A great army of orcs is heading up the Silverlode. I suspect they will be on top of you by nightfall."

"That is a threat indeed!" said Oin. "There is a feast taking place in celebration of Durin's Day. I suspect that is where you will find Balin. Go and warn him. I should like to check out this rabble myself!"

"Yes, sir." Gror bowed again, and raced towards the Gate. But as he sped off he stumbled, and fell face first. He looked up, his beard and face, all wet and muddy - Great, Oin saw that, you just made a great first impression...fool. Gror, got up, brushed himself off and this time slowly walking away. That is, until Oin was out of sight.