Dear Diary,
Well, the meeting turned into a great shambles of speculation, and then it turned into an expedition. Not back to Eregion, to try the restored keys provided by Earnio, but to the Blue Mountains, and indeed the doors of Thorin's Halls.
Tingruviel asked to make the diplomatic request for information in person. I could hardly deny her this -- she knows best about what approaches work, and we need this to work.
I am writing to Tindir, and to Himwen -- although I believe I shall have to take her several bottles of wine, after the experiences she had last time -- and of course to Saranasse to request help. if Saranasse will attach Tuilerie to the expedition (young Filegris would make a decent second choice, having already been to that very place with the Lady Ambassador), that will be tremendous. Likewise, Telpenaro is willing to go if Himwen permits it. I do not know what members of the Hammer are doing what where (maybe Earcalie?) and hear me, Diary, that vexes me profoundly. I wish Tindir would stop being so blasted secretive. Who would I ever tell about military anything anymore?
I can send Curuglinn from the Houses of Healing; she needs some field experience. Likewise, Istuileth, the youngster from the Woodland Realm with a perfect visual memory, might be a good scholar to send with the Lady Ambassador -- her or Sarmetecil, if I can spare her scribing abilities.
And I thank Aule himself for our two new smiths, Earnio and Golvagor, who have provided so much help already. Golvagor is willing to accompany the group, while Earnio might not, having a great deal of work before him. I admit freely that part of it is mine. He has already been of such aid, simply opening that chest.
I did not expect jewelry tools, but these are indeed something precious. Precious! But why do I feel so uneasy when I carry harmless craft tools on my person? Yet I cannot find it in myself to do otherwise. We have uncanny things already in our vault -- that gem, for example. Who might be affected by this strangeness? I dare not risk it.
Sorontar's translation only created more controversy about the origins of the chest, my little ridiculous friend on its tiny goat legs. Earnio pointed out that it is made of a strong steel, but nobody seems able to date the piece. Thus the trip. That strange little poem -- is that Dwarrow called Jarpr involved with this? His name keeps coming up, again and again. Why put a poem in with tools? Why would the great Orc leader have the chest in the first place? The finest minds of the Pillar have not answered these questions for me. Daeruth attended, but was silent as a tomb.
So, Diary, I have created another large mess. At least I have Telpenaro's floral marmalade, although the delicate flavors do not quite pull me free of my unease and fascination with these ridiculous tools. What gems have they shaped, as my pink diamond... Themodir's family's pink diamond... ai, the anniversary of our wedding and his death draws so near. Norlie and the others seemed to feel it was not my fault that Daegond vanished into thin air after Lindon, but he had my stitches in him! I put in the wrong ones. I ought to have sewn his smelly arse to a bed! Anglachelm too, frankly.
But yes, these tools... did they shape a plain gold wedding ring, like mine? Or a fancy tiara of ensorcelled gems? Whatever they made, it was precious. These things are precious. I will keep them close.
