The wind of the Shire blew softly and had covered the gentle hills with a warm evening whisper, when the first dwarves arrived at the Overhill Bridge for their monthly fishing contest. As the dwarves were unpacking and fixing the reins of their ponies to the nearby Oak tree branches, the last rays of the sun were hitting the loud waterfall of Bindbole Wood, giving the water a pinkish shine. As is common with dwarves, once they had secured their belongings ample amount of time was set aside for proper greetings. Warm familiar greetings of cousins, as with Augir and Zhigi... or Norgi and Hanfrere. Or slightly over-polite long-winded greetings as with Uzbad Kandral, a proper custom for dwarves that hold an Uzbad title. Then there were other greetings...
Midarin, son of Midli. You wouldn't tell it by looking at him, as he looked like a scrapper dwarf that had spent the night sleeping between the kegs... his light brown leather attire stained, his cloak in tatters, his shoes worn-out and sporting a light grey beard that had not seen a comb in many an age. Yet Midarin was a tailor, one of some renown.
No one doubted that Midarin had not come for the fishing, even if he had brought a fishing pole.
Midarin had come for a maiden, THE maiden with the firey braids... Zhigi, a fair lass of marrying age, cousin to Augir. Midarin, who had made no secret of the fact that he was seeking a wife had set his sights on Zhigi.
An earlier encounter between the two had firmly chiseled in his mind the idea that Zhigi was to be his wife, as she apparently was (in Midarin's view) swept of her feet by his White Mountain charms. The rumor that Zhigi would attend the fishing contest had drawn Midarin to the waterfall like a fisherman was drawn to the sea, fishing pole and all.
As the evening sun fell rapidly, so did the tone of greetings change. For Midarin quickly understood a challenger had come to the fishing grounds. A dwarf of noble standing, renown for his wisdom and wit, a former Izbad even. None other then Norgi, son of Norgi, cousin to Hanfrere, who in her turn was married to Augir.
Convinced his charm would provail, if needed by force, Midarin quickly treated Norgi to some minor mocking. Norgi in turn did not hesitate to call Midarin a drunkard, at which Midarin pretended not to hear master Norgi.
Though Midarin was laying on his charm to Zhigi thick and without shame, the maiden seemed only moderately impressed and dared to reply to Midarin's charm with some mocking of her own.
Uzbad Kandral feared the fishing contest could turn into a common tavern brawl and quickly invited all onto the great fishing rock in the middle of the Bindbole stream. "Come now, time for our fishing" he said with some hesitation, hoping the two roosters would lay aside their differences for the evening.
Yet, it clearly was not to be, as Midarin followed Zhigi onto the rock trying to get as close to her as possible on her right... Norgi eyeing Midarin closely on left. The fishing had begun, though Uzbad Kandral had not even given the proper start signal. Master Augir even wondered if it has officialy started as he looked somewhat amazed at the dwarves that had already started, at which Kandral nodded and shrugged, as confused as Augir.
Hanfrere had taken along sandwiches for all, hoping to impress the company with her tasty spread. Augir boasted to his little lady that they wouldn't be having sandwiches and they would have a fresh perch on the campfire, at which Hanfrere smiles and sat behind her husband... having a sandwich.
The rival dwarves seemed to have little interest in the fishing, or at least that was clearly the case with Midarin.
Laying on heavy layer after layer of compliments and charm to the firely lass on his left, while she only treated him with a mild chuckle or the occasional whack of her fishing pole to his face.
All folk know of the stubbornness of dwarves, yet Midarin was taking it to a whole new level. Relentlessly he was firing new lines of charm to Zhigi, who by now clearly had enough of his display.
Norgi, who had remained silent for the most part, treated Midarin to a firm reply every time he was at the receiving end of one of Midarin's mocking stabs.
While Kandral was chatting away with Hanfrere and having one of her tasty fresh sandwiches, like a bolt of lightning on a bright day, a shout was heard. "WHAT?!?" could be heared throughout the Shire. It was Midarin who almost fell flat on his back when he heard Zhigi say his efforts would be fruitless as she had made her choice, looking at Norgi in the process. Midarin would clearly have none of it and challenged Norgi to a fight.
Claiming he was in his right to fight over the maiden, as the betrothal was not official yet... and that Zhigi was mistaken and would come to her senses once he had shown Norgi his worth.
Uzbad Kandral quickly stepped in, as did Augir who asked Midarin firmly to calm down and mind his language toward his cousing Zhigi.
By now Midarin had no eye or ear for the two referees and after some more grunts and shouts he balled his fist firmly and took a quick swing at Norgi's jaw. At a remarkable speed Norgi stepped back and avoided the large stone-like fist of Midarin by a hair. Before Hanfrere was able to take another bite of her sandwich Norgi had firmly planted his knee in Midarins gut. Yet Midarin was like a wild beast cornered and let out a roar while taking another furious swing at Norgi. This time Midarin's fist would likely not have missed Norgi, if it were not for Zhigi. "No, not my Norgi!" she cried, and in the blink of an eye took her club from under her cloak and clubbed Midarin over the head.
Apart from Norgi's heavy breathing and the splatter of a few fish in the river, not a sound could be heard.
Midarin had collapsed, old cold. Norgi noticed a spot of blood dripping from Midarin's skull and quickly handed Kandral the bandage he had in his pack. "Oh, no" spoke Zhigi in a faint breath, "what have I done?".
"I'm sure he'll be fine" replied Uzbad Kandral, "it's just a flesh wound, he'll come to his senses soon enough".
And sure enough moments later grunts could be heard.
With the help of Augir and Kandral Midarin slowly stood up, with a dazed look in his eyes. "what... who.... " he muttered, feeling at the bandage on his head. " What orc struck me?", he slowly uttered somewhat shaken. Slowly he lifted his bandaged head and looked at Norgi, then at Zhigi, then back at Norgi. Everyone was expecting another eruption of fury, yet all remained silent.
"You.... " spoke Midarin with some determination... "who are you?".
It was clear that Midarin had no clue who anyone was. Neither Augir, Hanfrere, or Kandral he could remember. Norgi and the others tried to get Midarin to a nearby inn, or perhaps his home.
But Midarin would have none of it, convinced his home was in the White Mountains, which in reality he had left some fifteen years before. "I'm off home!" he shouted all of the sudden and ran into the Bindbole wood, in the direction of the bear caves. Norgi and Zhigi ran after him, but it was too late, as he had ran to far into the dark wood.
With night having fallen Kandral suggested to call the bounders, as they knew these woods best, at which he rode off toward the Shirriffs office of Overhill. Worried of what was to befall on Midarin during the night the company of cousins and friends stepped slowly toward home, while behind them wolves were howling in the Bindbole wood.
