Tears of Mirrormere RPG

[Groin Redbeard]

So focused was Nisa on the darkness that seemed to envelop her through her closed eyes that she did not hear the heavy footfalls of a dwarf drawing close.

"I am very sorry to disturb you in your grief, young lady Nîsa." She jumped at the mentioning of her own name and quickly turned, nocking over a glass full of wine in the process, but the dwarf continued on as calm as ever.

"This is a very sorrowful day, and I despair too. But I sought you out because you might be able to help me. I need to speak to your cousin Trór in an important matter, but I could not find him. Might you perhaps help me to learn where he is now?"

Nisa focused on the face for a second, trying to put a name on the familiar voice. The skin of the dwarf was dark as if he had been working in the mines, but a closer look revealed that it was his true skin color and not soil that people wore when they worked.

After a moment of her studying him the dwarf smiled again, probably in hopes of her recognizing him, and it came to her. Onli! although his ferret was not on his shoulders as was usual, she couldn't mistake that smile. Nisa had often seen him with the company of Balin, mostly offering generous gifts. Trór had not spoken kindly of Onli, and Nisa dared not question his word, but now that she actually came face to face with Onli he didn't seem that bad, in fact he seemed very kind.

"Might you know where Trór is?" Onli repeated.

The tears came welling back up in Nisa's eyes as he said this and again she covered her eyes with her hand and cried. She heard the dwarf exhale loudly, probably in disgust, and why shouldn't he be disgusted? Just look at yourself girl, he asked you a question, answer it!

"I," Nisa started to quiver as she said this, "I don't know where my cousin is, he was watching over our lord Balin's body, but it has been a long while and I don't know if he still stands there or not." Onli smiled courteously but she could see that this is not the answer he wanted.

"Why don't you try Kenan?" She said after seeing the look in his eyes. Nisa tried to grab hold of her emotions and stood up as straight as she could, as was usually expected of her when she was addressing someone. "I know that they are good friends and I'm sure he could grant you a better answer than I."


Trór

Frar’s company and confident laughter comforted the troubled Tror. During all this time the realization of him being the lawful ruler of Khazad-dum had not struck him, but from his own mouth the situation was made clear. A terrible blow it was to his mind, like the premature smote of the hammer on a piece of iron it dented, rocked, and shook him to his very core. Although his friend comforted him somewhat he could not shake the full load of the subject off. How could he, a mere soldier, govern the mason, the crafter, the miner, and the soldier alike? Could he, who commanded the dwarf to fight, also command that dwarf to kneel in loyalty to him?

These, and others, were the thoughts Tror dwelt on as he walked with Frar. So concentrated was he that soon his voice was ringing within the confines of his tick skull. Was Frar speaking? He could not tell, Tror did not care. I am a fighter not a ruler! This Tror repeated until he was deep in debate with himself.

Upon the king was placed the lives, the debts, the carefree wives and children, and the sins of the people. I must bear all! Oh hard condition! Was I born for this greatness? Subject to the breath of every fool. All the ease and comfort that I have ever known must be cast aside, all that private people enjoy must be neglected. Then what have kings that private people have none of, save ceremony, and what is idle ceremony? A drink that is not sweet: poisoned flattery! Be-sink great greatness and bid your ceremony, that comes with you, give you cure.

Proud dream that plays so subtly with a kings repose. I am, now, a king that finds you and I know it is not the bar, the scepter, or the ball, the axe, the mace, the crown imperial, the robe of gold and pearl, the facet title running for the king, the throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp that beats upon the high shores of this world. No not all these doubled could compete with the hard tradition of ceremony. Not all these laid in bed together can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave, who with a body filed and a vacant mind gets him to rest. Next day, before dawn, will he rise and serve his master, and follow so through the ever running year with unprofitable labor to his grave, but with no ceremony. Such a wretch, winding up days with toil and nights with sleep, had the forehand advantage of a king!

Here Tror gave up his fruitless argument. Duty must always be his first role. Yet, he would not procure the crown for himself if the people would not have him. Unity was what the people needed, he would still command his army, no on would take that from him, but the crown must go to the worthiest whether it be him or not.

The massive stone gates were opened outward by two guards at the pairs approach. Ori and Gror were revealed to them by the torch light that was all around. At first Tror was very displeased, not even Loni or Nali were here, but before he could express his frustration Loni and Nali ushered past Frar and were standing by Ori and Gror. A first Tror thought that the third figure with the brothers was Kenan, but he now saw that it was just a woman. He glared at Nali, and the woman, thinking that the scholar had misheard his orders and would have chastised him but for Tror noticing another absent dwarf.

“Where is Oin?” Tror asked Ori a bit puzzled. “Has he not come back yet?”

[Arry]

Tív & Tíva . . . little sleepers have big ears . . .

Though the voices were quiet in their conversation, still the keen ears of the two children picked up on them. Their father’s voice especially, the deep hum of it from the kitchen called them up from their sleep. Tíva woke to it first and nudged her brother awake. He knuckled his eyes and yawned, saying ‘What? What?’

‘Shhhh, Tív!’ his sister whispered at him, her forefinger against her lips. ‘Papi’s home . . . and they’re talking about something.’ She motioned for him to follow her out of bed. ‘C’mon! Let’s go see if we can hear what they’re saying a little better.’

The twins crept to the open entryway into the kitchen, their bare little feet making no noise against the stone floor. They hunkered down in the shadows against the edge of the doorway, leaning against each other. Their mother had just finished speaking, and in a quite serious tone. One of those tones that they recognized well – the one that meant ‘pay very close attention, now; this is important’.

‘What does that mean, Tíva? What she said.’ Tív asked, whispering very low in her ear.

Tíva elbowed him in the arm. ‘Ssst!’ she hissed at him. ‘I wanna hear this!’

Tív scooted away from her just a bit and rubbed at his arm. What in blue blazes was Mami talking about? Just where was she getting this ‘new child’? He inched back to Tíva, and following her lead, listened most attentively.

-----

Vitr

Vitr sat down with a heavy thunk on his chair. He felt a bit dizzy, as if all the blood had rushed from his head and pooled in his feet. He felt cold, and sweaty at the same time. Mouth, dry. His stomach had suddenly tied itself in a tight little knot, too, and was threatening to crawl up his throat.

‘Wh-what?’ he gasped out, looking Lys full in the face as if trying to glean some clue from her expression. He wondered if the trying events of this evening had somehow disoriented him, made his ears play tricks on what she’d said. But no, she’d been quite clear. ‘Our new child’ ...


She looked at him expectantly. No further explanation seemed forthcoming.

‘A baby?’ he croaked. He could feel he was beginning to babble in a rather thick witted manner. His mind had not wrapped itself fully around this bit of news.

‘A baby . . .’ he said again taking a deep breath to collect himself. ‘A baby.’ He nodded his head in a slow, resolved manner. He reached out to cradle her face with his hand.

‘Well this changes everything, now doesn’t it?’

[Durelin]

Kór sighed as he watched Nali turn to walk away, ordering his sister to follow. Kórin gave her brother one last glance, an exasperated look on her face, and then followed, dragging her feet. Kór wondered at Nali’s words, particularly because he had tried to pass them off as a product of senility. “Dampened merriment” will bode ill for us? That seemed fairly straightforward to Kór – obviously low morale amongst the colony wasn’t going to help them any. But Nali seemed to think what he had said was a little off.

What really bode ill for them?

Kór picked up his harp, not minding Nali’s suggestion, and headed in the direction of the kitchens and storeroom, where he expected many of the women were still working while the men sat around and talked. He nonchalantly pulled up a stool just outside the kitchens area and played another familiar song, especially to those from the Lonely Mountain, who made up most of the colony.

“…The mountain smoked beneath the moon;
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled their hall to dying fall.
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.

Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day,
To win our harps and gold from him.”

Kór finished softly singing the words, then simply continued the tune.

~

Kórin wondered at Nali’s words, too, but found it impossible to really ponder anything as ale seemed to slosh about in her head as well as her stomach. She followed the old dwarf with heavy steps until they neared the Eastern Gate. Others had already arrived and were arriving. She recognized all of them, but could not put a name to each face, especially at the moment. One gave her and Nali a look which made her beard bristle with anger. She knew his name – Trór.

Kórin kept a cold gaze on him. The way he carried himself, and how he now addressed Ori… Her eyes narrowed. Was this now the dwarf she would have to take orders from?

[Folwren]

“I think I had better get Iari home,” Kéni said. Kénan nodded his head in agreement. “When will you return, Grandfather?”

“I don’t know,” Kénan replied. “It depends on how long Trór takes in his council.” The long-winded fool may take all day and night, he thought to himself, but this he did not say aloud to his grandchildren. “It may be a long while - don’t wait up for me.”

Kéni nodded and took his sisters hand, but Kénan wanted to make himself clear.

“Get her to bed as quick as you can. She needs rest.” And he did not want to be bothered with her whimpering when he got home. “You get to bed, too.”

Kéni nodded again, though he resented being told to go to bed. He grumbled something between his teeth as he led his sister off, but Kénan was already pacing off in the direction of the appointed place for the council.

“Well, here I am,” he said. “Let’s not take longer than we must!” The request was made apparently to no one in particular, but he was looking in Trór’s general direction.

[Kitanna]

Kéni hurried home, holding Iari's hand the whole way. He was annoyed with his grandfather's treatment of him and even more annoyed that the old dwarf didn't even want to talk to Iari when he returned. Their home seemed safe and warm when they arrived.

"We need to get some food in you, Iari." Kéni went about making a plate of dried meat and biscuits for his sister. "Would you like some tea as well?"

Iari shook her head. Kéni put the food in front of her, but she refused it. "Please eat. You'll be starving in a few hours and it won't do for you to be so hungry when Grandfather gets home. He'll think I've not taken care of you."

The little girl sighed and took a bit from the biscuit. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until now. She gobbled up the rest of the food on her plate and Kéni had some tea ready for her when she was finished. While Iari took her tea Kéni made himself a plate of food and joined Iari.

"What do you suppose Grandfather's meeting was about?"

Kéni shook his head. "I know not, but I would rather not think of it now. And best you don't either. It won't do for you to have any more nightmares. Balin's death was nightmare enough for everyone I think."

Kéni stood and took Iari by the hand after she had finished her drink. "You can sleep in my bed. I'll be staying up a little later, but do not fret sister, I will be close at hand." Kéni tucked Iari in and she fell asleep fairly quickly.

[Dimturiel]

Soon after the news of Balin's death had been announced, Bain left the great hall. There was nothing that could keep him there now. The others were still mourning for their lord, but he could not bear to stand and watch them. He felt somehow estranged from them and he could not understand why. Since they shared the same grief, he should have felt tied to them, shouldn't he?

Inevitably, his footsteps lead him to the forge. He always went there when he had some doubt on his mind or when he was unhappy. Not that he was often so. He usually had no reason to be. But now...

Yes, what would happen now? Things were going to change and probably dark times would come. But the future was a notion Bain had always refused to understand. He had never once thought of what was to come. It was something beyond him, and now that the question what would happen? came to bother him, he found himself helpless, having no answer.

Bain shook his head as if to cast away doubt and needless question. He would leave the thoughts of what was going to happen to more competent heads. There were enough in the colony. As for him – well, for now he was going to face his doubts in the only way he was able.

Bain took hold of his hammer. As always, work was going to be his answer and his comfort. Soon, he knew he would forget everything, his mind bent only on the task ahead. He did not yet know what he was going to make- a tool, a weapon, a piece of armoury – but he was certain that whatever it was going to be, it would be able to clear his thoughts and put his mind at rest for a while.