Azaghâlbad’s log: 22nd of ‘Afkalm
This Frimsi character is quite the merchant: at the last market, he swindled an elf out of almost all of her coin, and what’s more she thanked him mightily for it! I must say, I have little time for sleazy, honourless dwarves, but the Trading Company was barking down my neck to recruit this new prodigy, so I have inducted him into the kin: Imdul Frimsi of Durin’s Folk! Perhaps Altli the arch-swindler will gain some company.
Now, much as I would like to keep this brief, I’ve been asked to record every last head-numbing detail for this new journal. I therefore present to you (drumroll please)… a conversation with another dwarf! By Mahal, what a strange and unusual occurrence, certainly something that poor, hard-working Azaghâlbads should be forced at axe-point to record! Meklor take ye, Hosgrim – it’s my bloody journal, as much as I wish it wasn’t, so I’ll record whatever I damn well please.
Anyway, as I have been forced to record this conversation, Frimsi, myself, and Linglorel the elf met to the riotous sound of the weekly Dwarves Night Out celebrations to discuss his latest expedition. It seems that his “unique” gems (little more than forgeries, though remarkably realistic apparently) require equally “unique” ingredients. Upon inquiring where such ingredients might be found, he told me that the only place in the entirety of Eriador that he could get them from is Othrikar. Othrikar, on the border of the fallen realm of Angmar, Othrikar, where wargs carry off children, guards get slaughtered, and oathbreakers come to steal your beard in the night! The only noteworthy exports of that accursed town are bodies, shouts of “Khezrar!” and a few meagre scraps of silver. Frimsi says that his ingredients are neither, but still refuses to share what they are; trade secret I suppose.
Anyway, I think “Mithriltongue” would be a more fitting second name for Frimsi than his current “Gembeard”, as he somehow managed to convince myself, Linglorel the elf, and, as I later found out, the brave hobbit Passerose to accompany him north to this accursed outpost. On a side-note, as our conversation veered onto the finer points of dwarf culture, Frimsi started to talk about honour and tradition with a sort of… reverence. Linglorel and myself were both shocked - I worry for his health. Perhaps he can scam a few hobbits out of their life-savings as we pass through the shire, that should return him to his usual demeanor.
PS: Hosgrim, if you’re reading this, you great stonehead, I hope your axe breaks in two and falls into your ale - I’ll write no more, I swear it!
