Durin

Asmalinde looked down upon the dark canyon. Her elf eyes were unable to penetrate the veil of darkness below her. It had been a difficult trek making it this far. Asmalinde’s arms and legs ached from the exertion of climbing. She had found a large crack in the granite surface of the mountain. The elleth had used handholds, finger grooves and natural depressions in the unyielding surface to make her way up. Twice she almost fell, scraping her skin and knees with contusions.

Durin's Day, year 2894 of the Third Age, Hammersmith Hall,

This day was a day I would remember forever.  The day promised to be a normal Durin's Day in Hammersmith Hall.  The Ale Association was here, selling their ales and meads, and minstrels singing the songs of our forefathers.