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Having delivered the second package to the guards at Hrimbarg, with a second copy of the instructions for use of the poison-antidote, the friends realize it is wiser to wait out the night before striking out on the long journey back to Imladris. Filegris has a skin of wine; Menelamdir has a fable about a helpful woodpecker; and Glorfingwë, rather unusually, has a fully strung musical instrument wrapped in his pack. He plays a bit but shortly turns it over to Filegris, who has spent many a long night before in company who required morale.
The Elves of Imladris pause for a moment in the courtyard of Hrimbarg, feeling safer within the confines of its courtyard. Even the stabled beasts are a welcome sight.
IC the chronicle is managed by Manadhlaer with help from her secretary, Sarmëtecil
Times are desperate indeed when the Dwarrow of Hrimbarg are sufficiently rattled to seek help in Imladris. A baffling theft of an heirloom -- priceless to the owner and his family, but completely ordinary to any other Dwarf -- under mysterious circumstances prompts Master Harnack to seek the Elves of Imladris.
This tale picks up after the Moria expedition, described here. After the discovery of mithril in Khâzad-Dum, something went terribly wrong, driving his party apart, Hilfar was forced into exile. His path led him deep into the mountains where he was about to face the coldest winter any dwarf had to endure.
Let us tell you a tale of a dwarf that lost its way in the Misty mountains and ended up in remote outpost called Hrimbarg. Atop the mountain, this outpost faces the most dreaded winter it has ever seen. Was it a whim of nature, or was there some darker force at work?