Scarburg Meadhall

[Groin Redbeard]

Erbrand's ears were ringing from the excited screaming of Kara as he crossed the finish line. He enjoyed every minute of the challenge, especially since he had a partner who cared very little if they won or lost. However, the strength that had almost carried him across the finish line left him at that very moment and he fell flat on his face with Kara following after him.

For a brief moment he could hear nothing besides his heavy breathing, only the heaving of his chest prevented him from losing all conscience and blacking out. But while he tried to regain his breath and fought to keep conscience the familiar sound of Kara's laughter broke through to him and it was the sweetest sound he'd ever known. She lay there on her side, looking at him, with her lips curled in an undimmed smile.

"Third!" she said between bouts of laughter, "Third! Well done Erbrand. I thought that we would lose for certain."

He could not think of a clever reply or to even try to give Kara some partial credit for not fighting with him the entire way to the finish line. Instead he said the first thoughts that entered his mind: "Ha! Not with me... on the case." His words were indeed prideful as he struggled to say them between his gasps for air.

She thanked him politely, but he responded with a blunt answer and made a gesture as if dismissing her. He lifted his head to see how the other runners did and he was glad that the boys had beeten them, he had a feeling that they would pull through in one of the contests.

"Little help?" Erbrand looked over and saw that Kara was trying to undo the knot that joined them. He quickly lent his hand and tried to pry the knot apart with his fingers, but it was tight and would not yield easily.

"You tie a hard not," he said, glancing up at Kara, "I could do with a knot like this in my work."

Kara laughed again, and told him to get the rope off first. After they had congratulated the other runners, Erbrand walked Kara back to her seat in the Scar. He apologized for his biting language when they had won, but Kara didn't mind and just laughed when he asked if he had hurt her during the race. Lithor was calling everyone back for the next competition but there was one more thing that Erbrand needed to ask Kara before he went back.

"I've been meaning to ask you this since the race," he began, "and I want to have your answer now before you are taken by another man." She glance him a puzzled look, and at that moment Erbrand caught a glimpse of Crabannan coming over the Scar. "I was wondering if... well, if you would promise me one dance tonight at the bonfire? I know that we still have time, but I wanted to ask you before Craba... before someone else asked you first."

She smiled back at him and Erbrand's hopes soared with what she would say next.

"Yes, I'll promise you a dance. The night will be long and I'm sure everyone will have a chance to dance."

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed, jumping once in excitement, "I will look forward to that with more anticipation than our race, and that's saying a lot." Lithor called again for the contestants to come forward and Kara bade him go before he missed the contest. They both waved goodbye, but Erbrand came running back to her after taking only a few steps and leaned over to give her a grateful kiss on the cheek. His face was blushing when he stepped back, but he was still smiling and he rushed back down the Scar with much speed and great excitment, leaving a stunned Kara.

[Formendacil]

The rope-tie race was ending when Náin began to make his way back to the Eodwiningas' camp. The Dwarf had disappeared much earlier in the morning, not long after Lithor had begun to round people up for the games, for he had no interest at all in the peculiar competitions of Men. On the contrary, he was somewhat disgruntled (a situation not helped by his lack of sleep) at discovering that the day was to be wasted. It was not that Náin begrudged the Men their pastimes--odd though they were--but rather that he had been intending to get started that day with surveying the situation for the construction of the Mead Hall.

Eodwine, Garstan, Stigend, and anyone else that might otherwise have been deputized to join Náin were naturally preoccupied with the games, so the Dwarf made a tour of the construction site on his own, followed by an inspection of the materials that Eodwine's men had gathered thus far, and then a long jaunt over the surrounding land to see where and how a quarry might be situated, for Eodwine was going to need more stone than he thought if he wanted a proper, stone Mead Hall.

As industrious a Dwarf as Náin was, however, his chief purpose in the exercise was to avoid having to be present at the games. From his time in Edoras, he was already well acquainted with the Mannish friendship and enthusiasm that would likely have resulted in many invitations to partake in the games. That was all very well for a Hobbit, Náin huffed to himself, but no Dwarf was interested in competing in a Mannish sport. For one thing, there was no field where Náin thought there could be a fair competition, and for another, he was inclined to feel that events were a bit ridiculous. No Dwarf cares to look ridiculous, and certainly not one as reserved as he was.

Eventually hunger returned as the afternoon progressed, so Náin made his way back to the Men, hoping they were far enough into their games that he could avoid any attempts to talk him into participating. He decided not to ask Frodides or anyone else from the kitchen about food before supper, but he did hope that supper would be ample, and between the emptying stomach and the long day, he was aware he was becoming more irritable.

This irritability was manifesting itself in the Dwarf's outlook on the gathering. Men were such a raucous bunch! And so preoccupied with their physicality! Perhaps, he thought, it was that they were bound to their bodies for so short a time that caused it, but it seemed to him that Men were vastly more likely to engage in things like rope-tie races that were of little competitive value. The examples of Lithor and Eodwine, and Garstan and Stigend, did seem to countermand this slightly, but as far as Náin could see, the rope-tie race was little more than an excuse for Erbrand to hug Kara for a few minutes. The obvious pleasure that the trapper was deriving from the experience baffled Náin somewhat, since it looked manifestly awkward, but he had become used to the strangeness of Men.

Perhaps it was just their shorter lifespans that made them so different, he mused, since the much longer ones of the Elves certainly did. Náin knew that, barring war or another unnatural cause of death, everyone present that afternoon, even young Léoðern, would be long dead before he reached his old age and senility.

This thought depressed him greatly, and suited well his irritable mood. While everyone danced their wild Rohirric dances that evening, the Dwarf decided he would probably nurse his melancholy over a few tankards of ale.

[littlemanpoet]

Harreld had been berating himself for the entirety of the three legged race when he saw Ginna with Saeryn. He had not even thought of asking her, and watching Erbrand with Kara, he knew it would have been a moment of moments for some indirect courting. He had not been able to help himself wishing that she and Saeryn would win, but when they tripped the last time and burst out laughing, he decided that he didn't mind them losing after all.

That Erbrand was quite a powerful fellow! And not unlike himself. Thankfully, he wasn't a rival for the affections of Ginna, which meant that instead of enemy, he could be a friend.

These thoughts wandered through his mind as he walked over to Ginna and Saeryn.

"Here, let me get this for you," he offered, and did not wait for permission. The knots had tightened from their exertion, and it took some doing with his big fingers. Their skirts were getting in the way so he perforce pushed them up to their knees.

"Hold your hems, please," he winked.

They watched him work, sharing some inside joke, giggling to each other. Soon he had the knots loose and the rope freed.

"Now up you come!" He offered a hand to both ladies and he lifted them both at once. "That was great fun to watch, but now, Ginna, I wish it had been I who was your partner, no offense to you, of course, Lady Saeryn."

[Groin Redbeard]

The field in front of the contestants was strewn with irregular objects. The course was marked by a line of red flags, creating a half circle. The course consisted of four main proponents: agility, speed, accuracy, and stamina. First there was the log jumping, a stretch of land with logs of various sizes for the contestants to jump over, some of the logs were propped off of the ground. Once they made it across they would each take up a wheel barrow, each filled with one stake attached to a rope, and make a dash for a wall around two hundred yards ahead. The wall is around twelve feet high and is made out of wood (it’s really an unfinished part of a building that Lithor and his crew “borrowed” for the occasion). The players will toss the stakes over the wall to the other side were Lithor, Wilcred, and crew, will be waiting to stake them firmly in the ground. The players scramble down the other side of the wall move on to a some beams which have been elevated off the ground for the contestants to balance their way across. The next, and final task, is the sack race. This is pretty self explanatory: the contestant grabs a sack and hop their way to the finish line, one hundred feet away.

Everyone was ready now. Lithor gave a blast on his horn and all the contestants sprang forward. Eodwine made the first jump across the logs with Erbrand, both of whom were followed closely behind by Rowenna and Javan. At first all seemed to be going well for Erbrand as he pulled ahead of Eodwine, but the logs were at an uneven distance and he slipped falling sideways. Javan skipped across the logs as if he was taking a stroll, while Rowenna and Saeryn slowly jumped over each log. Eodwine made it over the last log first and grabbed his wheelbarrow, meanwhile, Harreld and Javan had passed Erbrand, who was side by side with Dan. The girls brought up the rear, with Rowenna ahead of the two.

Everything was evening out in the wheelbarrow run: Eodwine still held the lead followed closely by Harreld, who was running diligently behind his lord. Erbrand was closing distance fast, but the girls, whether by sheer determination or skill, passed Dan and Javan and where within several yards of Erbrand, who was increasing his pace.

Eodwine and Harreld reached the wall within a mere second of Erbrand, who had pulled ahead of the girls. Harreld and Erbrand stopped for a minute to catch their breath, both of them toppled to the ground with dizziness, while Eodwine tossed his stake over for Wilcred to place firmly in the ground. Eodwine had begun to climb and Harreld, along with Erbrand were just tossing their stakes over when Javan came dashing in with Saeryn, Rowenna came along with Dan a few seconds later. While everyone was tossing their stakes over Rowenna dashed for the wall, dropping her wheelbarrow she dashed for the wall and started to climb it her feet finding the right grooves to be placed in (this wasn’t really cheating since the only rule was that you had to make it across the wall).

Everyone was on the wall, Eodwine had begun to make his decent down the other side, by that time. Erbrand slipped several times and stood dangling in mid-air, while the short statures of Dan and Javan allowed them to shoot straight to the top, though not without some difficulty on Javan’s part. Dan, Rowenna and Javan were the next to make it over the wall, Dan jumped down but the other members played it safe and carefully felt their way down. Eodwine was slowly moving across the balance beams when Dan caught up to him, he virtually ran across the board without slowing his pace a bit, making it across to the sacks just before Eodwine. Rowenna made it to the balance beams next with Javan and Saeryn racing after her, both just a little bit behind the other. Exhaustion had taken its hold on Erbrand as he wearily climbed to the top of the wall, as Harreld began his decent.

The crowd was roaring now for Dan had finally pulled ahead of Eodwin in the sack race, but not by much the eorl was still not giving much ground and they were still neck and neck. Rowenna made it to the sacks without too much difficulty, but Saeryn slipped a couple times and had to make a hasty restart, while Javan went slowly, concentrating as he went with wide eyes.

Harreld finally made it half way down the wall when he lost his grip and fell, the crowd was stunned, but Harreld jumped to his feet unhindered by the blow and jogged to the balance beams. Eodwine and Dan were still battling it out by the time that Rowenna started the sack race, and at a fast pace too. Saeryn and Javan made it across the beams and quickly got into their sacks, but Rowenna was gaining too much distance too fast. Harreld wobbled and swung his body wildly when he was on the balance beam when Erbrand slowly and wearily marched across.

Dan and Eodwine where tied, neither of them could pull ahead of the other, and Rowenna was coming up faster than they were hopping. Suddenly, Dan and Eodwine collided, they both tumbled over themselves and fell flat on their faces, only four yards from the finish line. Rowenna screamed with delight as she pulled ahead and quickly crossed the finish line: she had won! Javan was quickly catching on to the whole hopping business and quickly got the gist of it and left poor Saeryn slowly hopping along.

When Dan and Eodwine had stumbled Erbrand made it across the balance beam and slipped into the sack when Harreld leapt of the beam and hastily pulled his sack on. Dan made it to his feet first, but he was so bewildered from the fall that he started jumping in the wrong direction, but he was soon corrected by the screaming crowd. This fortunate turn of events gave Eodwine the chance he needed and with long bounds he made it second across the finish line followed in turn by Javan, who was skipping across at a merry rate, and the corrected Dan. Saeryn was hopping determinedly and she crossed the finish line to the cheers of everyone, never had they seen a more dedicated effort than hers.

Harreld had made up for his past mistakes with this final leg of the course, with long leaps he caught up to Erbrand. The craftsman and the blacksmith refused to let either get the advantage, and with Erbrand’s quick hops to match Harreld’s long bounds they pulled ever closer to the finish line. Harreld laughed as they drew within ten yards but Erbrand was yelling, trying to gain the last bit of strength he had. In the end the mighty Harreld with jovial laughter propelling him on, made it across the finish line a full six bounds ahead of Erbrand.

[littlemanpoet]

"I won! I won!" cried Rowenna in girlish glee.

Eodwine smiled to see her happy and free (at least for now) of all the heavy weight she had been carrying for so long.

"Saeryn! I won!" Rowenna went over to her to give her a hug. Saeryn smiled and returned Rowenna's hug with a wince. "Saeryn? Are you all right?"

"Oh, it's nothing. My wound is just a little sore, that's all."

"Oh dear!" Rowenna held onto her and tried to half carry her. "We need to get you to a good seat. "Lord Eodwine!" she called.

He had seen Saeryn toward the end of the race, frowning but determined, and had seen her wince. He was over to her in a moment, and took his place on her other side. Between the two of them helping Saeryn, she hardly had to touch the ground. They sat her down on a chair near the baker. Eodwine knelt beside her and took her hand in his while Rowenna patted her shoulder.

"How are you really?" he asked.

[Nogrod]

Stigend and Garstan had been following the unfolding of the events in the task-path and had lived the last moments of the race with heart-rates over the healthy ones goading Harreld to do his best. They had yelled their throats sore for Harreld and when he finally beat Erbrand at the last moment for the second last place they hugged each other spontaneously howling in joy. Not that they had anything against Erbrand, but Harreld was their work-mate and a fellow they knew well, and that was reason enough to champion him.

After the cheering died down Stigend noticed Náin walking around alone and heading for the temporary kitchens looking quite gloomy. He punched Garstan slightly to the shoulder and winked towards the kitchens. Garstan nodded and they started forwards to catch the dwarf.

"Hi there master dwarf!" Garstan called Náin when they were something like ten paces away from Náin.

"Aren't you participating in the games Náin? You would be great in the sack fight, or wrestling perhaps?" Stigend added smiling broadly.

The dwarf looked at the two craftsmen with an odd look.

"Why should I?" he counter-asked and looked at his two fellows in trade questioningly. "These games are ridiculous".

"Oh, don't be a bore my friend!" Garstan grinned.

Stigend looked at the dwarf and thought he saw the inner smile behind the expressions of the grim dwarf. They had worked together long enough for him to see he was not as annoyed as he tried to convince them he was. At least he thought he saw it.

"Let's have a pint. Maybe Frodides has some refreshments for the competitors... and to some onlookers as well?" Stigend winked an eye to Náin but then suddenly bowed to him respectfully and said: "If you wish master Náin".

Even if Stigend was in a good mood after Cnebba's and Garmund's victory and all the things that promised for the future he never forgot his high esteem of the dwarf for Náin was a true master of his trade and Garstan and Stigend - how handy and able they were - were just apprentices compared to him. And they all knew it even if they hadn't mentioned it one single time during their time of working together.

"You'd share a pint with us master?" Garstan added realising the need to change the tone as well.

[Formendacil]

"You'd share a pint with us master?"

Normally, Náin would have picked up on the sudden formality of the two Men, and realised they had decided they might have been a bit too forward with him, distantly royal master stonecrafter that he was--and normally he would have attempted to alleviate their concerns, in an indirect, Dwarven way. Men were, in general, so less accomplished, being younger, and so less talented, not being Dwarves, that unless it was a matter of craft, he did not care to enforce his superior station, being well-accustomed himself to the sharp-barbed comments of his own Dwarven teachers.

As it happened, however, Náin was too tired to notice the change in tone, and merely replied with customary dignity.

"A pint of ale would be most welcome indeed, Stigend. I journeyed most of the night, and I have been going over the estate while your people have fested today, and I am tiring."

"It must have been a good day's work, indeed, then," said Garstan, "for we always tired long before you when we worked together in Edoras. Why don't you and Stigend sit here, and I'll fetch us the ales."

"I am not so tired as all that," protested Náin, mostly out of Dwarven stubbornness, "but I shall accept your offer. Nonetheless, I do not wish to bore you with my company, which I fear is full only of my trade and my new dwellings in the Glittering Caves."