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VENTURES INTO THE REMOTE (RP)

Cardiloc followed after Eonwe, and spoke to him quietly as they left the room. "If this eru is so powerful, why hasn't it destroyed the Valar?" He questioned the Maiar.
 
Eonwe was silent as he heard this but replied after a few moments of thinking, "I do not know. I cannot tell you. Eru is the creator of everything, the world, the Valar, even Morgoth. He has the power to do anything but I do not know why he doesn't. Perhaps he is unaware of what is happening? Perhaps he doesn't care? I hope it is the former and not the latter. But, as I said, I cannot tell you."

They reached the bottom of the stairs and Eonwe took a seat at a table as Barliman Butterbur strode up to them and listed off the menu items, "Meat pie, Juicy Raddish and Steak, Lamb Ribs, Mutton Stew, Crownland Cabbages, Carrot Cake, Cheese Cake, Ale, White and Red Wines, Rabbit and Chicken Breasts. What'll you be havin'?" He asked Cardiloc.

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"Allright guys, since im driving i dont think i should drink so ill just take apple pie and some water" Iver said before ordering those items from the waitress.
 
Sigeric took a few of the coins that Eonwe had offered. Hopefully it would be enough to buy him some clothing and provisions. He whispered back to Silesia as the others began to leave. "Your skepticism does you credit. After what we have been through, only a fool would trust him blindly. That being said, he gave his life to protect me when I fought the Guardian Giant. He tried to tell me the truth of our purpose on the island before he 'died'. I don't trust him completely, but he is our best chance at the moment. We should follow him for now, but not be afraid to question him. Let us go get something to eat with the others."
 
"Aye young lady, I'd like a bunch of chicken legs, a mug of your best beer and a apple pie to round it up" he says as he leans back without any gold to pay. "What about you lad?" he says as he nods towards Marco.
 
Ha'zi takes a seat across from Eonwe. "I'll have mutton stew and rabbit, please," he says to the man.
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"Wait-" SLAMM Daugo faced the door, and began knocking again, "Please, do you know where she is? That bi- woman is the mother of my children! I need to see them!" [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/Captain_Aasim/74.png" name="Captain_Aasim"]12253360[/user]
 
Cardiloc realized that Thoruk and Iver were in a different inn and he seeing things. Eru, Illuvitar, he's losing his mind!

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"I'll have some apple pie and some meatballs with a pint of ale." Marco said, jokingly then whispered to the waitress, "Make it only half a pint."

The woman giggled and walked off, allowing them some time to talk.
"So, where to? Some place called Goon-da-bad?" Marco asked Thoruk and Iver.

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"Lamb, rabbit, mutton stew and rabbit, got it," Barliman Butterbur said, "You havin' something?" He asked Sigeric and Silesia as they walked down the staircase and into the bar.

The woman nodded and ordered one chicken, some cabbage, and red wine. Sam had the same and Eonwe ordered a carrot cake.

Eonwe remained silent, per usual. He was either dead-faced and quiet or giving speeches. It was, quite, awkward. No one speaking and all.

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Deslan's feet hit the ground. The teleportation thing was weird and he still hadn't got used to it. Nonetheless, he was here and had his orders. Before he could return to Aule he had to get them. His compass pointed directly west and when he'd turn to face that direction he saw a great mountain with huge gates and hundreds of people pouring between it and another settlement which sat on a dale.

Dwarves and men traveled between them and looked like ants from his place on this hill yet it was still extraordinary. Not as much as the Mansions of Aule but quite unbelievable. Such architecture by the dwarves, such fancy buildings by men. It was all so ugly. Extraordinarily ugly. After a year in Aule's halls he had got used to the magnificence of the place. This was all so dreary and depressing compared to the Valar's villas and mountainside mansions.

The compass pointed west at the city. Perhaps he could start there? Surely, he would have been placed nearby his targets. [user avatar="https://assets-cloud.enjin.com/users/6427581/avatar/small.1500927951.jpeg" name="Riko son of Pdor son of Kmer"]6427581[/user]
 
"Its a mountain, dwarven castle that was taken by orcs. Its where they keep their prisoners and Thoruk's father. We are going there to kill them all, retake the mountain and then move to mirkwood and erebor to warn the north that melkor is coming." Vlad said
 
"A northman, a Haradrim, and a Man from the east all at the same table. Not something you see every day. The name's Hector." Dimitri says. "So, what's with him? He's quieter than stone." he inquires, nodding towards Eonwe.
 
Deslan adjusted the wide-brimmed leather hat on his head, stretched his neck and made his way to the city. It didn't take the greatest generals of old to figure out the logistical fallacies of digging a town in a mountain. How do you even feed the population inside? The land is rocky and barren outside, it is awful for crops. Maybe the dwarfs drink so much they forget they are hungry.

Titans of stone stood beside the oversized gate, weapons in hand. The poor lads will never figure out how to animate stone or steel, let alone juggernauts this size. Let them stagnate and fade in the deep, Deslan thought, if that is their wish. He took a leaf from the bushes adorning the bridge over the brutish moat and chewed on it. It was an attitude he acquired from the Easterlings (that and the taste in cowboy hats), but had forgotten it as nothing caused him much stress anymore. Aule's lessons sure brought it, though. His right hand rotated 180 degrees on its axis and showed him the compass. A small, magnetite needle pointed north, but a reddish, thicker one pointed ever westward. He was still surprised by the silence of his new hand: Dimitri's arm articulations sang like an organ echoing in a cavern. He did get used to the perfect movements of finger and wrist - it's not like he ever lost them. He adjusted his hat and crossed the threshold of the steel, refined gates of Erebor.
 
Ha'zi gazes at the bar around him, still fascinated with this new land he's in. The people seemed so different, especially those hobbits. So small, almost his size. This wasn't really any news to Ha'zi, but seeing so many in one place really opened his eyes. Anyways, Ha'zi's attention is back to the table now after Dimitri's words. "Hm? Hector?" He looks questioning at the rogue.
 
Eonwe coughed at the mention of 'dick', "Language. He's still an adolescent. And I do not feel like discussing matters of," he paused to think of the correct terms, "Forthcoming quietus. Do you have any questions or shall we wait in silence?" He asked the six of them.

Sam sat next to Eonwe, next to him was Silesia then Sigeric and across from them was Dimitri, Cardiloc and Ha'zi. Their food was yet to arrive and they had time to, so to speak, kill.

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"Okay, well, shouldn't we get some new clothes after this if we're going north? It'll be cold, wouldn't it? It's pretty cold in Gondor during winter and that's south of us." Marco said to Iver.

Their food arrived and was served to them amidst the hubbub of the restaurant.

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Deslan felt the cold winds whip at his coat. Where would he begin? Would he venture to the dwarven city? Would he seek out a stable among the Dalishmen to find an adequate steed? Would he find a map or journey by following the compass? [user avatar="https://assets-cloud.enjin.com/users/6427581/avatar/small.1500927951.jpeg" name="Riko son of Pdor son of Kmer"]6427581[/user]
 
Deslan quickly realised he had no need to delve into Erebor, as the compass pointed west, not north and inside the city. Now, finding a steed was top most priority. He would have cut his other leg off and replaced it with a lighter design, but he wanted people to think that at least two legs weren't metal.

Problem is, dwarfs had no use for swift mounts or war horses: they used ponies, or whatever mountain hog or goat they could find. Deslan knew that, unless he were to go all the way by foot, he would have to grab a horse in the nearest settlement, and oh boy if he hated such settlement.
Last time he'd been to Dale, they melted his steel leg and pretended he'd spy on Isengard following claims of "steel barbed wire" in development. He obviously flipped them off at the time, thinking it was a convoluted way to get him killed. In time, he concluded that it was also Prince Luincrist and his personal thought police's complete lack of critical thinking. Also, no one would have the metallurgy to make barbed wire for a few hundred years.
Deslan concluded that an impressive beard coupled with a more practical hairstyle than the hallucinogenic shaman mane he bore should be enough to fool the coppers. They'd be racist, but he was himself racist to them, so it was all fair.
 
Quiet was Daugo's only response. For a few minutes he would linger there, unable, no, unwilling to leave. He had no other place to go. There was little for him anywhere else. His siblings must think he died a criminal, executed. What would happen if they caught him alive and well? Would he actually die if they beheaded him? He hasn't used that power but saw it all through Andreth's eyes. Just a little snip of blood on his finger and he could destroy anyone who would dare touch him. But would he? Would Andreth? Would Daugo? Who was who? Or were they one? It was all to confuddling.

His thoughts were broken into by the creak of the door and another face appeared. Older and twenty years more wider than he last saw her, Pomona Burgins stuck her plump head out to see her husband. Her eyes were dark and she blinked for a moment, bringing a candlelight she carried close to her face and shining it onto Daugo's.

"You? You!" Her voice croaked as her eyes widened in a mixture of shock, fear, anger and more shock.

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"Rivendell." Eonwe said matter-of-factly.

Their food arrived, the Bree cuisine laid out before them in a steaming pile of scrumptious delicacies and oily delights. Sigeric and Silesia's red wine was poured and an entire bucket of ale was dropped next to Cardiloc. Sam dug in, hastily munching on some lamb chops. Ha'zi saw his hot boiling mutton broth laid in front of him along with some rabbit breast which was tough and pale white.

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His camouflage worked as he passed the guards of Dale on his way through the northern bridge. He found himself wondering the alleys of the city. It seemed to have changed a lot. There was certainly some sort of battle that had occurred. A lot of buildings had been burnt down and demolished in certain areas meanwhile new sections of the city had sprouted up out of the ground. He had spent a year in Aule's mansions, however, it seemed time worked very differently in Valinor. How much time had passed?

He found the questions deserved answers but first the stables. The royal ones stood in front of him, they'd cause a ruckus if he found Luincrist wondering around there. But, it was tempting to think he could steal that snobs royal steed. Or he could settle for the common stables which lined the city. He had quite a sum of trinkets and coin from Aule, either that he 'picked up' along the way or that he had forged himself. Ores were plentiful in that place. He could buy himself any steed. But, the question was: would he really? [user avatar="https://assets-cloud.enjin.com/users/6427581/avatar/small.1500927951.jpeg" name="Riko son of Pdor son of Kmer"]6427581[/user]
 
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