Two old friends and one potential new one met near the run-in by the Prancing Pony where their mounts had spent the night. To the east, dark pink and yellow light was spreading along the horizon line. The Dwarves secured several over-stuffed packs, travelling-sized kegs and a variety of tools to their sturdy, magnificent goats. In contrast, the Man with her silky, delicate horse had a bedroll, weapon sling and a couple of small saddle bags. Hoggstari gave his friend and the mute woman a wide grin, calling out in a loud voice, "time to go!"
The destination was a hidden encampment located in the North Downs. Hoggstari had travelled to Nan Amlug West many times in the past to the Dwarven outpost of Othrikar. Over the years, he traded and lifted ales with the dwarves and some of the men from Esteldin at the outpost. He knew of these Men and their reputation as rangers. However, he had never set foot near their current objective of Esteldin, hidden in a gap of the Kingsfell Mountains. It was there Hoggs hoped to find a scout, guide or at least a better map to the cave of treasure he sought.
Luck was not with the small party, however. The hunt for a guide produced nothing but some directions to a hillman village called Aughaire. Curiously, Hoggs had been told he'd know he was in the right place because the sky looked like blood! The adventurers set off for this settlement of friendly hillmen, which lies surrounded at all sides by Fasach-larran, with nervous anticipation.
They passed over the safe road that runs south through Lehmä-koti. Inhabited by a peaceful giant-kind of auroch herders, the Earth-kin. Lehmä-koti wasn't much more then a campfire and a few hide tents. The other road, unchosen, Hoggstari had been told, was warded by witch magic and impassable.
After passing through Lehmä-koti, Hoggstari kept the small group pushing forward at a quickened pace to get to the hillman settlement. Coming over a rise in the road, the village laid straight ahead. As they were told, the sky was indeed as red as blood.
In Aughaire they found the tribe of Trév Gállorg living in caverns and large tents within walls of the north-western outskirts of long ridges of the Misty Mountains. The town was spread out over islets and shores of shallow ponds, connected with wooden plank and rope bridges.
Their goats and the horse breathed hotly, heavily and needed rest. While the animals rested, Hoggstair and Dwimmer wandered the settlement inquiring about guides while Rahjawyn removed her horse's saddle and saddle bags. The moment she lifted the protective blanket under the saddle, curls of steam rose from the outline where the saddle and pad had been. Taking a rag from one of her packs, the woman soaked the cloth in cool water and wiped down the sweat from her horse.
Meanwhile, without success, the two dwarven friends walked back toward the resting animals. The two stout friends gave each other a sidelong glance, brows on both lifted in curiosity at what they considered a very strange visage.
Another horse, with a rider atop, was stopped near their travelling companion. Speaking in sign, Rahjawyn was in a friendly conversation with slender rider and that slender rider appeared to be an Elf!
to be continued...
