Hellrien ducked down to avoid hitting her head on the low doorframe and stepped into broad daylight. It was early in the morning. She squinted her bloodshot eyes and walked down the stairs to the huge town square of Gondamon. She spotted Ealstan loitering nearby, arms crossed.
”We any closer to finding that dwarf?” he asked, nodding slightly as Hellrien approached him.
Hellrien looked about. She spotted Askelin and Arindiis standing farther away. Askelin was leaning against an old and rusty metal pillar. Arindiis looked relaxed and unmoved by the cold next to him. Cutwil could be found by the stalls, messing around with a dwarven-made crossbow.
”Indeed, I got some information”, she said quietly.
Ealstan raised an eyebrow. ”Oh have you, lass? Find it at the bottom of a bottle?”
Hellrien tried to draw the attention of the other Dawners, beckoning them over. Cutwil walked over with the crossbow in hand, still fiddling with it. Askelin quickly picked up his shield and strode over, Arindiis following close behind him.
Hellrien grinned. ”I suppose you could say that, Ealstan”, she said. ”I had a long talk with my old friend Pall last night.”
Ealstan rolled his eyes. ”Let’s hope it’s useful.”
”So… anything that we could track down this ’dwarf’ with?” Cutwil asked.
”So what is the news? Are we ready to move out? I am eager to start!” said Askelin.
”Aye”, breathed Arindiis. She nodded a greeting to the company, then looked to Askelin with a hint of worry in her expression.
”There is an old ruined Dourhand city called Orodost in the Vale of Thrain”, said Hellrien. ”The Dourhands abandoned it centuries ago, but since a couple of years ago goblins have overtaken the ruins. There's a rumor going on with the dwarves that the Dourhands may have returned too. There has been some sightings. The dwarves at the outpost called Noglond near the ruined city should know more about it.”
”Goblins?” said Askelin. ”Aye! We know those creatures well and they know too the bite of our blades. But how can we be certain that the dwarf we seek has been there?”
”We can't, but it's the only lead we have so far.”
”Goblin-filled fortress?” Ealstan cut in. ”How much are we being paid for this one again?”
Arindiis tilted her head curiously. ”Are the goblins not different here than in the hills?”
Askelin looked over to Ealstan with a simple and blunt look. ”As much as we can get out of that supposedly rich and well-known family of halflings back in the Shire... from what I know.”
”Anyway”, said Hellrien, ”dwarves at Noglond know more about what happens in the Vale of Thrain. We should reach Noglond this afternoon if we ride fast.”
Cutwil quirked his brows, tilting his head. He fiddled around with his crossbow, then put it away and stroked his chin. He kept quiet.
”I'd rather not bankrupt a family of the little folk tracking down one of their own's killer”, said Ealstan. ”All the same, I wonder if it's worth charging into the depths of Mandos either. But aye, I suppose we'd best ask the folk who know more on this than I.”
”Eal, we were paid quite a bit, though I give it to you that it doesn't feel quite so generous now.”
”That’s implying we have to fight”, Cutwil pointed out. ”Goblins are... well, from what I know they will sell someone out for their own good.”
”That's if the little buggers don't swarm you the second a single toe comes into view with the hopes of nabbing whatever you have or feasting on your innards”, said Ealstan.
”Perhaps.”
Askelin looked about the company briefly. Standing tall, he tapped the pommel of his sword lightly and nodded approvingly at Cutwil.
”Cutwil has a point. Goblins are known to be slimy little shites at the best of times. I wouldn't hold it beneath them to be cowardly in some way. Even if they do fight us we can easily overpower them... Err, assuming there aren't hundreds of thousands of them. My point is... we need only show our strength and intimidate them until perhaps they bring forth whom we seek, or flee in panic so that we can easier track down our quarry.”
”Exactly”, Cutwil agreed.
”Only one way to find out”, said Hellrien. ”We have to check the place out on ourselves before we can make an estimation of what we're up against.”
”Fair”, Ealstan concluded. ”Let's be off then. Get this all done.”
”Let’s get our horses then.”
”This place makes the weather around Bree look simply delightful”, Ealstan muttered to himself.
The company headed over to the stables, saddled up and started venturing towards the gate. On their way through the gate a lone rider approached from the bank on a pale gray horse, gray hooves pummeling into cobble and dirt. The woman upon horseback was dressed in an array of black leathers and feathers, her raven-black hair reaching around the mid-section of her back. Hellrien pulled Half-Pint to a stop and regarded the comer curiously. It was uncommon, though not unheard of, to see representatives of the race of Men this far in the west. Those who ventured into the Blue Mountains were usually hunters though, and the woman on the pale horse didn’t appear to be on a hunting trip. The rider’s attire dusted in a sprinkle of light snow as she came to a slow, gradual halt ahead of the Dawners and her pinched, red lips revealed the smallest of smiles.
”Fashionably late, but I had to stop to complain about tedious things a few times.”
Cutwil stroked his chin and glanced at the sky, muttering something to himself as he fiddled with his crossbow. Arindiis called out, her voice cracking awkwardly:
”Ash?”
Ealstan looked at the rider, seeming completely unimpressed: ”Nothing fashionable about being late.”
”A friend, I presume?” Cutwil said.
Askelin blinked a few times at the rider. ”Welcome Ashaia!” he hailed. ”Good to see you here again, this far north too!”
”Of course there is”, the rider, Ashaia, quipped at Ealstan. ”You can't expect to dress so nicely without a little bit of preparation.” Her gaze paused on Hellrien and the woman offered her a gracious bow. ”The Spymistress, my dear”, she introduced herself. ”I got word of your group having a little adventure.”
Hellrien touched the brim of her hat and grinned. ”Nice to make your acquaintance, Lady Spymistress. I am Hellrien, as I'm sure you know already.”
Cutwil quirked his brows, looking between the two, and shrugged. ”Well, we best get going, shouldn't we?”
”I do, indeed”, Ashaia agreed with Hellrien’s comment. ”Did I already miss all of the exciting parts?”
”No, all the excitement is just beginning.”
Askelin leaned over to Arindiis and the pair seemed to be whispering something to each other. Arindiis watched Ashaia with an eager yet concerned look. Her hand was clutched by the fabric of her armor. Her pupils were tiny, making her eyes appear gaunt and eerily alert.
Ealstan rolled his eyes at Ashaia. ”I'm sure the ruffians and scallywags who prowl the roads must have adored your devotion to looking presentable on a cross-country trek.”
”Come now, Ealstan!” Askelin snapped. ”I am sure Ash would best any braggart upon the road if they dared to harry her upon the way here. I have seen how Ash fights.”
”It's a tactic of the feminine wiles. I can lend you some of my preferred lip rouge, if you'd like. Nevertheless, let's not dally, shall we? I'm sure there's a party to be had somewhere out in those icy wildlands.”
”Let's get going, then”, said Hellrien. ”To Noglond!”
