[The One Ring] The Rise of Dale - The Festival of Five Armies

[Red Shadow Claws]

It's a time of festivities in Lakewood. The city has been rebuilt from the destruction Smaug has wrought when he burned the city, and then when he was shot down by the mighty King Bard, and today marks the anniversary not only of that event, but also the time when Elves, Dwarves, and Men (both Beornings and Bardings) came together to fight the Orc army.
There are people from those nations, as well as some hobbits, and even men from Bree, Rohan, Gondor, and some Woodsmen, all coming together for a feast unlike any in several centuries. The Festival itself only starts, officially, tomorrow, so you lot have time to meet once more, and discuss your plans for the upcoming events.
There are rumors that among the esteemed visitors, one might expect to see Gandalf, and maybe even Bilbo, that notorious Hobbit.

 

[Meduion]

It was strange to be back upon the shores of the Long Lake. True, she had grown up here, played among the streets and canals, learned to swim off the docks on the eastern edge of the town -- well, the old town to be precise, for this town was hardly the same as the one she had known. It was all new timber, buildings that had only seen a few winters. Not so different from Dale in that respect, save that here the construction was all of wood and in Dale stone was the primary resource. She did not look south from the shore to the sight of the old town where lay the bones of the Dragon and, more dear to her, the bones of her father.

She quickly tried to tuck such morose thoughts to the back of her mind. This was supposed to be a celebration and when those thoughts found their way from the tightly closed strongbox in the back of her mind they often had a way of turning all thoughts grey, sometimes for days at a time. She swallowed hard as she stepped onto the causeway leading to the town from the shore. No, enough of those thoughts, think instead of happy meetings, think instead of opportunity. For it was happier tidings that brought her south from Dale, and grander possibilities. She knew from their last meeting that her friend Dorin, who she had come to know over several years upon his trips to Dale, would be here and they had sworn to meet here in the coming season to renew their fellowship. She wondered what tales out of far Western lands he would have this year, what people he had met upon the roads and what treasures he had seen and traded and who might travel with him, for surely all far and wide were headed for the festival.

And then there was the rumor of important personages, wise and learned, traveling from far away lands. Generals, wealthy merchants, perhaps even Kings! And, most importantly to here, Loremasters, come to commemorate one of the great deeds in the North. Loremasters who might know the old history of the land, of Dale before its fall, that might offer some whisper of hope to her in her quest to restore her family to a place of honor.

 

[Eonivar]

The sun of the day shone down on the Lake and the newly rebuilt city of Esgoroth and the sparkling waters of Long Lake. The party of elves from the Elven King Thranduil's halls had arrived the day before. arrayed in their green and brown leathers, sporting bows, , spears, and their distinctly curved blades.

There was one amongst them who stood out from the rest of them. While he carried a curved blade similar to the others, this elf was arrayed in grey, his clothes a little different than the others, wearing mail rather than leather, a little nicer quality clothing than the other elves. The elves of Mirkwood treated him the same, with brotherly respect, kindness, and honor. This elf was disarmingly fair and handsome, even more so than his brethren. The grey garbed, crimson haired, blue eyed elf caught the eyes of all. Most of the elves were merry and festive in their way, but this one was a bit more reserved, a bit more distant.

The elves had gathered at an outdoor gathering area next to one of the local biergartens, enjoying lunch and some wine in the nice weather, while interacting with many other visitors.

A particularly social Barding and childhood friend of Vigdis named Inga interacted with the elves for a time. Inga waved Vigdis over upon seeing her and spoke to her.

"Vigdis, I have been talking to the elves...they are so very wonderous, but I remember you speaking of a seeking out a lore master that may of known the Dale before. Well, my new pointy eared friends tell me that a lore master had accompanied them here. An interesting one to say the least even though I have not spoken to him yet...as he is not from Mirkwood, but far to the south from a place called Lothlorien. His twin died in the battle and he had come to honor her memory. He sits over there...off to the side, the quiet pretty ginger in the grey cloak, his name from what I have been told is Calanhir."

 

[CommanderNecro]

Bersha had arrived with Vigdis earlier. And then wandered off.. as usual. She had never been in a proper town so it was her time to explore. Once she was satisfied she reappeared at the celebration area. All could instantly notice her. For she was taller than most others there. Strapped onto her is a decorated chain shirt. Which sits above a hide tunic. At her side is a one-handed axe. Well one handed for a Beorning. Two-handed for practically anyone else. And on her back a buckler made of silver and iron. All of this equipment has seen use. But for a Beorning she actually looked well dressed considering things. Her blond hair was bundled up in a neat pattern. Something Beornings tend to not do very often at least.

She simply stands in place her eyes scanning the surroundings. She slowly begins walking back towards Vigdis. People (mainly humans) quickly noticed her and moved aside quickly. Beornings are not especially known for kindness after all. As she passed people started to whisper about her near instantly. She then got to Vigdis. She stared into her eyes as she moved her neck cracking it. Then making fists in her hands and cracked them as well. She didn't speak but she overheard Inga discuss the elves. At which she visibly scouled. She then looked around again. And looked curiously at a nearby ridgeline. She then wrapped her lips around two of her fingers and whistled. It carries a strange beauty to it. Then a brown and gold hawk flies over from the ridge and lands on her shoulder.

 

[jaydude]

"Place looks to be doing well for itself," Dorin said in a tone of approval, as he and a group of other dwarves from the most recent Erebor trade caravan wandered the bustling streets.

"Aye. Let's just hope the King doesn't feel the need to stop buying our stone, now that so much of the city's been repaired," said one of the older dwarves of the group.

Another of the older dwarves - this one sporting a dark grey beard - let out a small chuckle. "You worry too much, old friend. At this rate, the city will be expanding."

Dorin was saved from having to participate in the conversation when he spotted a familiar face among the populace. Or rather, a familiar head of red hair. Taking leave of his kinfolk, he moved across the street until he was close enough to wave and call out to the other person.

"Well, if it isn't young Vigdis!"

 

[Meduion]

The morning offered many happy meetings, first with Inga who delightedly gushed the story of the elven entourage and the possible Loremaster among them. The detail of his twin sister perishing in battle offered a possible avenue of introduction; part of the celebrations would also be remembrance of those lost. Though she had little idea of how to interact with the fabled elves their presence was more common in Laketown now than it wasn't wholly unusual to see them in Dale now either. But the celebration brought all together and in the spirit of that unity Vigdis thought she might be able to find a suitable greeting.

But the second meeting, and the one she had eagerly looked forward to, was with Dorin.

"Dorin!" she called out in response to the Dwarf's greeting. "No broken carts this time I hope? Surely this must be the best market you'll find in the last five years and maybe for fifty more?" Her enthusiasm for the dwarf was genuine and she very much enjoyed his company. She had been able to make an impression in one of the ways that mattered most to the dwarves, offering her services in making some repairs to their carts when they had first arrived in Dale from their long journey from the west. Since then she and Dorin had become friends and they made a point to see each other whenever Dorin's business brought him into Dale from Erebor.

"No trouble on your journey I hope? It seems like all the folk for twenty leagues around have made their way here. I've had some interesting traveling companions upon the way -- this is Bersha who has come from west of the forest even!" The indicated woman is hard to miss, with her imposing height and the bird upon her shoulder. The stories of the folk of Beorn and their curious affinity for animals had reached Dale but this was her first chance to see it up close. It was even rumored that the animals of Beorn could speak, though nobody knew if this was just a fancifcul tale.

 

[jaydude]

"Dorin!" she called out in response to the Dwarf's greeting. "No broken carts this time I hope? Surely this must be the best market you'll find in the last five years and maybe for fifty more?" Her enthusiasm for the dwarf was genuine and she very much enjoyed his company. She had been able to make an impression in one of the ways that mattered most to the dwarves, offering her services in making some repairs to their carts when they had first arrived in Dale from their long journey from the west. Since then she and Dorin had become friends and they made a point to see each other whenever Dorin's business brought him into Dale from Erebor.

"Aye. The place is doing well," Dorin said with a cheery air about him. "The scars left by the dragon fade away like a footprint in rain, and we're all the better for it."

"No trouble on your journey I hope?"

"No, no trouble. Not even a broken cart," Dorin assured her. "Then again, me and my kin have only a short journey to make from Erebor. Less time and fewer opportunities for trouble to rear its head."

"It seems like all the folk for twenty leagues around have made their way here. I've had some interesting traveling companions upon the way -- this is Bersha who has come from west of the forest even!" The indicated woman is hard to miss, with her imposing height and the bird upon her shoulder. The stories of the folk of Beorn and their curious affinity for animals had reached Dale but this was her first chance to see it up close. It was even rumored that the animals of Beorn could speak, though nobody knew if this was just a fanciful tale.

Dorin had to tilt his head back a little further than normal in order to look into the other woman's eyes. "Good to meet you, Bersha," he said, smiling behind his thick brown beard. "I am Dorin, son of Garin, and a friend of Vigdis here."

 

[Eonivar]

To those from Lothlorien, the rivers, the trees, the plants...even the people were different. They were newer, younger, and not the same as was found in Galadriel's Golden Woods. To most elves the newness of the world beyond the Golden Wood would diminish the perceived beauty of the world...but not to Calanhir. His view had been changed by his twin sister, Calanril, long ago when they first visited what was called then the Greenwood and now dubbed by the humans and dwarves of the region Mirkwood. Calanril had always found a hidden beauty in the Greenwood, and that was the reason she had decided to stay and pledge herself to King Thanduil.

As Calanhir journeyed from the Golden Wood to the Halls of Thanduil and then on to Dale and Esgoroth, he saw many of those subtle points of beauty but darker now, particularly with his sisters passing five years ago.

The forest had become dark with the corruption spread by the Necromancer, infested with spiders and goblins. It saddened him visiting some of those places that he and his sister had travelled through the last time they had been some time ago which were once beautiful now were dark and dangerous. And yet Calanhir saw the hints and the signs that life would move on and change and grow again, particularly when the shadow was banished from this world.

The King had welcomed him warmly and with condolences at the loss of his sister and offered him an opportunity to accompany the elven delegation to Dale and Esgoroth to celebrate the Five Year Anniversary of the Battle. Calanhir happily accepted, figuring such an experience would aid him in his grieving as well as enabling him to get an understanding of the situation north of Lothlorien.

They arrived in Dale without incident. It did not take long for Calanhir to remember the human tongues , and he marveled at how far the humans had gotten in the rebuilding of the Kingdom of Dale in just five years. He watched and listened with his very keen hearing at the goings on amongst the humans.

That was when his sharp hearing picked up mention of his name to a red haired human woman who was accompanied by another blond woman in armor. The tall ginger haired woman who spoke in the accent of Dale was talking to a Dwarf. They were clearly friends in the way they talked.

Calanhir stood up and walked over to them. Unlike the Elves of Mirkwood preference for leather and padded armor of greens and browns, he wore a mail shirt and clothing of black, white, and grey under a grey cloak. The sun shown down on his angular face, highlighting his pointed ears, sky blue eyes, his long dark red hair tied back and bound intricately.

Calanhir approached delicately and diplomatically waiting for a break in the conversation and their attention before bowing his head respectfully, making respectful eye contact with each one of them, the red haired Dale woman, the fierce looking blond warrior, and the stout and seemingly cheerful dwarf. The elf had a fine smooth tenor voice that befit a storyteller in a way.

"I apologize for interrupting , but I could not help but overhear mention of my name to you M'Lady, and I thought it pertinent to introduce myself. My name is Calanhir, I am visiting from Lothlorien far to the south and east of here. How may I be of service?"

 

[CommanderNecro]

Dorin had to tilt his head back a little further than normal in order to look into the other woman's eyes. "Good to meet you, Bersha," he said, smiling behind his thick brown beard. "I am Dorin, son of Garin, and a friend of Vigdis here."

Bersha stopped looking at her bird for a moment and looked at the dwarf. She replied in a guttural and almost beastial tone. "Bersha Quiners, daughter of Hestia. Iv been traveling with Vidgis for a decent amount of time now. It seems you have as well." Bersha has to tilt her head and look down to make eye contact with the dwarf. She didn't much care for dwarfs. Her motto with them in a nutshell was if they don't mess with her she won't mess with them. She considered dwarfs greedy, selfish, and all that jazz. But she also viewed them as useful. They were miners beyond any other. She looked at her bird a moment and said. "Fly and watch." The bird seemed to almost nod and flew off her shoulder into the sky. Circling the nearby area. Watching for anything suspicious or anyone significant coming over. Anyone who decided to look up could see the hawk slowly circling the celebration area.

Calanhir approached delicately and diplomatically waiting for a break in the conversation and their attention before bowing his head respectfully, making respectful eye contact with each one of them, the red haired Dale woman, the fierce looking blond warrior, and the stout and seemingly cheerful dwarf. The elf had a fine smooth tenor voice that befit a storyteller in a way.

"I apologize for interrupting , but I could not help but overhear mention of my name to you M'Lady, and I thought it pertinent to introduce myself. My name is Calanhir, I am visiting from Lothlorien far to the south and east of here. How may I be of service?

She slowly turned her head as she heard a new figure enter the conversation. As she saw the elf her face changed quickly into one of anger and sorrow. She grabbed her axe and yanked it out of its holster with great speed and strength. She rears it up behind her head. Almost coming down to swing before coming to her senses. The fury in her eyes steadily slows down as she puts her axe in her holster again. If one looked close enough they might be able to see fresh marks on the axe. And what looks like blood. Seems to be spider and orc blood. And on her buckler what seems like blade marks along it. She seems tense in a way. Not out of fear or nervousness but rather impulse. Her voice sounded similar to how she spoke to the dwarf. But seemingly holstering a kind of anger behind it. "Apologies Calanhir." Trying to remain friendly in tone but not succeeding very well. She moved her head so she was facing the ground. Mostly to hide her anger at the elf but also so she could hear Vigidis better. Vigidis would likely know of Bersha's immense disliking of elves. Although she would not know much. She would know it has something to do with a past feud with elves maybe something more.

 

[Meduion]

There's a moment of panic as Bersha rears back with her axe and vicious intent; it's a great blessing that the Beorning woman comes to her senses for with her size and strength it seems there'd be little anyone could do to halt her if she had the mind to swing. Bits and pieces had come out upon the journey from Dale to Laketown, and there were many and more besides who held old enmity with the Elves of Mirkwood. It was only since the Battle of Five Armies that these old enmities had been lain aside, but it was clear that their memory still ran deeply.

Clearing her throat and trying to gather her wits, Vigdis turned to Calanhir.

"Service, sir? Ahh, I'm not certain. My friend Inga relayed there was a Loremaster of the Elven folk and...well, I can't say that you'd have any particular interest in the history of Dale before the Dragon. Still, a chance is better than nothing, so I thought I'd seek you out. I'm not even sure where exactly to begin myself, save that the stories that are passed from Father to Son in my family speak of our lineage as a noble house of Dale of old. We've fallen into hard times, to be sure, and out of memory of Men. I don't even know what our heraldry or history is beyond the fall of the city. But still, if there was anyone that might know it might be the Elves, for I'm told your people have long memories. Are such memories for the deeds of a minor house of a Kingdom of Men? I wouldn't know. Still, I don't have any better place to start!"

 

[Ayelech]

Although it was time for festivities there was something in Inglord that didn't feel right. While most individuals saw him as a brute it was more about efficiency and minimizing exposing himself as he was not the brightest. With that said, those who he called friends he would not hesitate to defend until the end.

As he walked from the shore he felt a bit out of place. He decided to find an Inn where he could sit down, have a drink and think for a bit. He needed to find the rest of the party who he had somehow managed to lose. Inglord had a tendency to be very unmindful and sort of lose himself in thoughts even when standing and speaking with someone.

Not finding a Inn, Inglord turned to someone passing by to ask where he could find an Inn.

"What are you looking at?" the stranger said, looking a bit taken aback. Inglord answered calmly, "Do you know where I can find an Inn or similar to sit down to drink and eat?". The stranger pointed a bit to the right of where Inglord was going and then just started walking away with another word.

Would this be it, why where people so unkind Inglord thought to himself as this was a time for celebrations. He continued walking and found the establishment. He walked up to the person who seemd to be the owner or at least running the place and asked if he had talked to any of his companions. He got a negative answer so decided to simply order in something to eat while he was waiting and hopefully running into the others.

 

[Eonivar]

She slowly turned her head as she heard a new figure enter the conversation. As she saw the elf her face changed quickly into one of anger and sorrow. She grabbed her axe and yanked it out of its holster with great speed and strength. She rears it up behind her head. Almost coming down to swing before coming to her senses. The fury in her eyes steadily slows down as she puts her axe in her holster again. If one looked close enough they might be able to see fresh marks on the axe. And what looks like blood. Seems to be spider and orc blood. And on her buckler what seems like blade marks along it. She seems tense in a way. Not out of fear or nervousness but rather impulse. Her voice sounded similar to how she spoke to the dwarf. But seemingly holstering a kind of anger behind it. "Apologies Calanhir." Trying to remain friendly in tone but not succeeding very well. She moved her head so she was facing the ground. Mostly to hide her anger at the elf but also so she could hear Vigidis better. Vigidis would likely know of Bersha's immense disliking of elves. Although she would not know much. She would know it has something to do with a past feud with elves maybe something more.

Calanhir rose a curious eyebrow at the blond human woman's actions and tone. he naturally reached to down for his blade taking a step back as she drew and raised her axe. Several other elves nearby also were standing and starting to draw their weapons as were several local guards coming to investigate the situation. The fair tall redhaired elven man tilted his head curiously at Bersha's apology, glancing at his elven comrades and gesturing for them to settle down and relax. He glanced at the guards. "Merely a misunderstanding, no problems here." They nodded and moved on.

Calanhir knew of the many disagreements between his kin in Mirkwood and the other human settlements who reluctantly had banded together first against the dwarves and then to the real enemy of goblins and orcs.

He addressed the blond warrior. "Pardon me, I am not sure what I have done to offend you enough to draw your weapon. I believe your enmity towards is misplaced. I am not of the region you call Mirkwood, but lands far south of here. I am aware that my kin from here can and have had past disagreements with the folk of these lands including your folk I presume, and that the purpose of holding this very celebration was to mend and settle those disputes peacefully."

"Service, sir? Ahh, I'm not certain. My friend Inga relayed there was a Loremaster of the Elven folk and...well, I can't say that you'd have any particular interest in the history of Dale before the Dragon. Still, a chance is better than nothing, so I thought I'd seek you out. I'm not even sure where exactly to begin myself, save that the stories that are passed from Father to Son in my family speak of our lineage as a noble house of Dale of old. We've fallen into hard times, to be sure, and out of memory of Men. I don't even know what our heraldry or history is beyond the fall of the city. But still, if there was anyone that might know it might be the Elves, for I'm told your people have long memories. Are such memories for the deeds of a minor house of a Kingdom of Men? I wouldn't know. Still, I don't have any better place to start!"

Calanhir then glanced at Vigdi, listening, giving her a slight grin at her statement.

"My sister and I walked these lands during the reign of Girion, the Last Lord of Dale as well as his father before him, all before the coming of Smaug. We were friends and allies to many of Lord Girion's knights and families. I aided the then librarians of Dale with the histories of Dale in line with the rest of the kingdoms of Middle Earth. I remember this place well, as my sister was very fond of these lands, of Dale, and of the folk who lived here. Yes, Smaug had destroyed most of it, but I am amazed on how fast your people have already begun to rebuild in a mere five years, not even a grain in the hourglass for my kind."

 

[Meduion]

"My sister and I walked these lands during the reign of Girion, the Last Lord of Dale as well as his father before him, all before the coming of Smaug. We were friends and allies to many of Lord Girion's knights and families. I aided the then librarians of Dale with the histories of Dale in line with the rest of the kingdoms of Middle Earth. I remember this place well, as my sister was very fond of these lands, of Dale, and of the folk who lived here. Yes, Smaug had destroyed most of it, but I am amazed on how fast your people have already begun to rebuild in a mere five years, not even a grain in the hourglass for my kind."

"Well, we can't take all, or even most, of the credit. In large part it's thanks to friends like Borin here. Without the help of his people Dale wouldn't be even a quarter of what it is today, and wouldn't become even a tenth of what it will be in the future!"

She claps Dorin on the shoulder as she speaks, giving the Dwarf a smile before addressing Calanhir again.

"But if you were here before the Dragon came, well, that's an opportunity I never thought I'd have. How about we find somewhere out of the bustle of the streets to talk for a time? I know an Inn nearby where we might find a moment's peace."

 

[jaydude]

"Well, we can't take all, or even most, of the credit. In large part it's thanks to friends like Borin here. Without the help of his people Dale wouldn't be even a quarter of what it is today, and wouldn't become even a tenth of what it will be in the future!"

"It's Dorin, Vigdis. But I appreciate the sentiment," Dorin replied with a smile.

"But if you were here before the Dragon came, well, that's an opportunity I never thought I'd have. How about we find somewhere out of the bustle of the streets to talk for a time? I know an Inn nearby where we might find a moment's peace."

"A most fine suggestion," Dorin said, before giving Bersha another glance. It probably wasn't his place to pry, but he couldn't help but wonder why she'd almost taken her axe to Calanhir just now. As far as he was aware, it was his people with the reputation for not getting along with elves.

 

[CommanderNecro]

Bersha didn't speak but at the mention of an inn, she slowly nodded. She then slowly turned her head to gaze at Calanhir.

Calanhir rose a curious eyebrow at the blond human woman's actions and tone. he naturally reached to down for his blade taking a step back as she drew and raised her axe. Several other elves nearby also were standing and starting to draw their weapons as were several local guards coming to investigate the situation. The fair tall redhaired elven man tilted his head curiously at Bersha's apology, glancing at his elven comrades and gesturing for them to settle down and relax. He glanced at the guards. "Merely a misunderstanding, no problems here." They nodded and moved on.

Calanhir knew of the many disagreements between his kin in Mirkwood and the other human settlements who reluctantly had banded together first against the dwarves and then to the real enemy of goblins and orcs.

He addressed the blond warrior. "Pardon me, I am not sure what I have done to offend you enough to draw your weapon. I believe your enmity towards is misplaced. I am not of the region you call Mirkwood, but lands far south of here. I am aware that my kin from here can and have had past disagreements with the folk of these lands including your folk I presume, and that the purpose of holding this very celebration was to mend and settle those disputes peacefully."

She watched the local guards for a moment. She merely chuckled at his response. "Your kin abandoned peaceful a long time ago. At least with me." She paused for a moment or two. Then mentioning. "Vigdis is correct. We should find somewhere to settle down." She then grumbled quietly and looked at the other elves. "Be warned Mr elf. Some people here are less... peaceful than I. Especially the other Beornings. Armed elves would not exactly be a nice sight to see. Even if you are not from Mirkwood."

She then curiously turned her head towards Dorin. Looking for a moment before turning back to Vigdis. "I have some stories of me own if ye would care to hear em. But I agree. Let's not take too long now." Bersha raised her right arm. And her bird landed on her shoulder. Its black talons sank into her armor. She spoke to it in whispers. Ineligible to any but the bird and her. The bird then took off into the sky and Bersha lowered her arm.

 

[Eonivar]

Calanhir nodded at Dorin in introduction, "Pleased to meet you Dorin"

He glanced back at Vigdis.."Yes, let us go and enjoy a drink and possibly a meal at the inn."

He then listened to Bersha's response and agreement with a typical elven red eyebrow raise. He proceeded to follow and walk along with his newfound "friends" towards the Inn.

"Indeed, history, recent or ancient, is rife with slights, grudges, and hard feelings that have often lead to bloodshed or worse, and then often such feelings carry over on and on in an unending cycle, it does not matter if one is human, elven, or dwarven beyond the fact the the longer lived races often hold such feelings longer. It is said the bravest one can be is to be able to forgive and move on rather than linger on such feelings. I do my best as a Lore Master and Historian not to judge or assume anything about an individual upon first meeting unless they be goblin or orc or one of the shadow..." A dark look crosses the elf's face..."then my sword will do all the assuming needed..."

The elf seemed to lighten very slightly . "Beyond that...I should really like to learn more about you and your peoples, Bersha, Vigdis, and Dorin, and what has been going on around here, if you care to share, I would be happy to tell you what I know."

 

[Ayelech]

Where were the other party members, Inglord thought to himself. Maybe it was the wrong Inn or wrong time.
Fortunately he still had plenty of coins to keep drinking and eating.

 

[jaydude]

"Beyond that...I should really like to learn more about you and your peoples, Bersha, Vigdis, and Dorin, and what has been going on around here, if you care to share, I would be happy to tell you what I know."

"You spoke of Dale just now, but our nearby city of Erebor has also begun to rebuild in the wake of the dragon's death. I've been helping to facilitate trade between the two," Dorin said as the party stepped into the inn where Inglord was currently waiting.