Sharliana's Geode
From Library of the Randirim
- ~~by Sharliana of Pillagers of Pipeweed
Spoiler Warning
This story contains some details about Moria, including the location and description of one feature in Durin’s Way and another in The Great Delving. If you’re of a mind to discover things in these regions before reading about them before seeing them, please leave this for another day.
Contents |
The Discovery
She was not sure what time it was. She was even unsure what day it was. It had been near impossible to judge the passage of time when underground, especially when spending most of the time alone. And so it was that Sharliana trudged tiredly onward, making her way toward the Dolven-view.
As she walked, she reconsidered her plan to make the trek from the first encampment on her own. It shouldn’t be hard, she had thought. There are plenty of dwarven guides leading adventurers along the path. All I have to do is follow them. They’ll keep passing by me. No trouble at all!
It had sounded good in her own head, but for the last half hour, she started thinking that perhaps she should have paid for the guide after all. In fact, she had come to the rather certain conclusion that she had gotten herself lost. The last guide group had moved on ahead of her, riding on those odd, oversized goats, and she was working her way along, following the sound of the hooves clacking on the stone floor.
Sharliana slowed to a stop and leaned her enormous axe against the tunnel wall before she slumped herself against it and slid down to a seated position. I should’ve just stopped when I lost sight of them. I should have waited. Darnit! I bet I was following echoes! She pulled her canteen from her pack as she cursed her own stupidity and took a long, slow drink. And now, here I am in some random tunnel. Probably a group of goblins right around the corner. Or more of those huge cave-claws.
After a few minutes’ rest, Sharliana huffed her way back up to her feet. Her hand settled on the still-unfamiliar pole of the two-handed axe. Well, at least this thing seems to be pretty good at slashing open the dirty gobbos! And with that thought, she started down the tunnel once more, committed to going forward rather than trying to backtrack and getting even more lost.
Some time later, and several twists and turns, the near-exhausted guardian stepped out into an enormous cavern. Distant sounds of people, or at least goblins, working echoed their way faintly to her ears. But she ignored the echoes. She mostly ignored her ears. Rather, it was her eyes that were transfixed, grown large as they took in the sight before her. One thought rose to the fore as she beheld the spectacle. A thought as simple as a single word. Wow!
It was a courtyard - an enormous courtyard, surrounded on three sides by an equally gigantic structure. Four levels of balconies were supported by arches tall enough to build a Bree-land house beneath. Though it was obvious, even in the dim light given off by the glowing crystals set upon pillars in the courtyard, that the structure was heavily worn, it was still sufficient to cause Sharliana’s breath to catch. But even as fantastic as the building was, it was not what held her attention hostage.
Centered in the courtyard and set upon a low, round dais with stairs all around was a heavy base. Carefully settled upon that base was a gargantuan geode – larger than any Sharliana had ever seen. To be fair, she thought to herself, it’s bigger than many boulders I’ve seen! It’s got to be, what? Thirty? Thirty-five feet tall? Forty, maybe? And at least twenty across the middle?
The side of the geode that faced her, directly away from the center of the building, was cracked wide open to reveal the purple-hued crystals inside, which glowed and sparkled even in the faint light of Sharliana’s lantern. Every move she made – even every flicker of the lantern’s flame, seemed to cause the crystals to dance before her eyes. It was a long moment before she realized she’d been holding her breath. And many more before she could bring herself to move again.
After months and months spent prospecting for ore around the lands of Eriador, the guardian from Rohan couldn’t help but study the enormous rock formation. She walked around it slowly, taking in every angle, every detail. Anything she could see with the faint light of her lantern, she studied. Eventually, she set up a small camp on the first balcony of the building and rested. A day passed, or perhaps two, as she marveled at the stone.
During her time there, a handful of other adventurers passed by, glancing at the geode. Some stopped for a moment. Others passed by it, only thinking of finding treasures or completing some task. A few only came near it long enough to slaughter and skin one of the oversized cave-claws that wandered around the courtyard from time to time. None seemed to take any further interest in the stone. Not a one even appeared to take notice of the markings that Sharliana believed to be old dwarven runes.
I’ve got to find someone who can read this word. One of those dwarves back at the first expedition camp said most rooms and places in here had names, if you knew how to look for them. Sharliana gathered up her belongings as she decided upon the next course of action. If I can just find the Dolven-view, maybe I can find a scholar. Not a dwarf – they’re all too busy with this expedition thing. But that writing… I’m certain it’s writing. I’ve got to know what it says!
And so, on she walked, determined to find the place that had been her destination before her eyes settled upon the geode. Just as she tried to get her bearings at the edge of the courtyard, she noticed lights moving in the distance – in the direction she thought was north. A renewed sense of urgency crept back into her step, the naps she had taken doing her as much good as the excitement of what she thought of as her own great discovery in Moria.
Searching For A Scholar
The Dolven-view bustled with activity – traders were buying and selling goods in support of the expedition; people surrounded the forge-master; off to the north, three warrior trainers argued about the best way to fight an opponent. Sharliana wandered through the mass of expedition dwarves and adventurers, looking for anyone she thought had a scholarly air about them. It had been a few hours since she had finally crested the last step into the Dolven-view and until then she had no success.
“Excuse me,” she asked a dwarf who was poring over a small pile of dust-covered books. “I don’t mean to interrupt your work, but could you please tell me if you know any scholars? I found something I’d like to have one look at.”
“Woman, does it look like I’ve had time enough to pull my nose out of these books to talk to anyone?” His voice was slightly higher than most dwarves, and had a slightly nasal quality to it. “If there are any around here, they’re probably in the Chamber of Knowledge or Chamber of Wisdom. Or, try the Twenty-first Hall. I heard things are busy over there. Now, leave me be. I’ve got four more books to go through before I take a break!”
Sharliana quietly thanked the studious dwarf and walked away. After her previous troubles finding her way, she went quickly to the stable-master and asked about a guide to the Twenty-first Hall. Just a few days before, she would have winced at the price required, but she gladly paid the silver to the dwarf and waited for the next small group to be led off – this time with her in it. The trip went much more smoothly, and almost before Sharliana knew it, the group arrived in the expansive Twenty-first Hall.
Tall pillars stretched far up over her head, providing support for the cavern’s carved roof. Though she did spend long moments following the knotwork patterns with her eyes, she couldn’t help diverting her attention to the heavy framework the dwarves had built up around the pillars. Settled atop the scaffolding were platforms, and upon those, dwarven guards pacing back and forth, keeping a lookout for goblin attacks.
It wasn’t long before Sharliana’s footsteps were lost in the din of the dwarven encampment. If anything, it was even more chaotic than the encampment at the Dolven-view. The guardian wandered almost aimlessly through the encampment, her mind returned to the task of finding a translator. Long minutes passed before she found a dwarf relaxing against a pillar.
“Hallo,” she said in way of introduction. “Could you spare a moment ta answer a question?”
“Hmm?” The dwarf looked up at her lazily, opening his eyes slowly from his nap. “What question?”
Sharliana, a bit tired from the long, tense trip, sat herself down upon another box. “Well, I found some runes I’d like to have translated. Didn’t want to trouble you dwarves, so I’m looking for a scholar. Have you seen one?”
The dwarf pulled a pipe and some cut leaves from one of his belt pouches, fiddled with it and got it lit before he gave his answer. “Well, now. I did see a hobbit come through here maybe an hour ago. Think he said his name was… Red Eagle or something like that. Went off to the north to look for some tomb. Said he wanted to study it. I’d bet you could catch up with him there.”
“Red Eagle? Odd name for a hobbit. Could you tell me how to get there? I’m not sure quite exactly where I am, let alone where that place is?”
There was a long pause as the leaves in the pipe’s bowl glowed deep, bright red. He pulled the smoke into his cheeks, obviously savoring the flavor of what Sharliana thought might be some Longbottom Leaf. “It should be just a bit north of here. I’m not quite sure exactly where. Not exactly my thing, tombs. I prefer mithril! Then again, what dwarf doesn’t?” He took another slow draw off his pipe and leaned back against the crate again.
The woman nodded politely. “Thank you, master dwarf. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” And with that, she started the hike toward the tomb.
It wasn’t long before she found a large, important-looking door on one side of the cavernous hallway that had led northward from the Twenty-first Hall. She approached it with some care, as she’d begun hearing goblin-like sounds again as she travelled further from the dwarven encampment. The doors were cracked open, and dim, flickering light was spilling out in a thin wedge from between them. Someone was in there and had a torch.
Carefully, she stepped closer to the doors, wishing for the moment that she were her kin-mate, Delaney. That woman could get through a room of sleeping babies on a floor covered with twigs, she thought ruefully to herself. And here I am, dressed in plate, with a shield strapped to my back! She cursed every minute clank of her heavy armor, but there was no sudden opening of the door.
Once she got close enough to peer through, she relaxed instantly – so quickly that she almost collapsed from the sudden outrush of stress. Inside, she could make out two dwarves and a hobbit that was dressed all in red. And, to be fair, much rubble. All three had their backs to her and none seemed to be the least bit concerned about an attack. Indeed, the room seemed as safe as any could be, to Sharliana.
The guardian grabbed the pull ring on the door and gave the huge thing a hefty tug. Even after centuries without use or maintenance, the heavy, intricately carved portal swung easily on its hinges. One of the dwarves glanced back at the sound it made, but saw no goblins and returned to his work of cleaning up bits of rubble. Sharliana stepped in to the room and pulled the door mostly closed again, as it had been.
The hall was small, by comparison to the Twenty-first Hall, but was still cavernous in its own right. Like much of Khazad-dûm, it was carved from the rock rather than built upon the floor of a natural cavern. Rubble filled a good portion of the eastern end, speaking of a collapse some time earlier, though the cause was not obvious to her. What was obvious, however, was the purpose of the room.
In the center, upon a raised circular part of the floor, was a sarcophagus, sized to hold a dwarven body. The side walls of the chamber, as she looked up toward the ceiling, were lined with arched recesses, many of which contained heavy boxes sized similarly to the one so prominently centered in the room. It was, indeed, a tomb.
She approached the hobbit and the workers, subdued in her motions as she felt the weight of centuries, stone and respect for the dead crushing down upon her shoulders. Once she got close enough that a low, respectful voice could be heard, she quietly announced her presence. “Excuse me. You wouldn’t happen to be one ‘Red Eagle’, would you?”
The hobbit, who had been entirely engrossed in his examination of the sarcophagus, started slightly at the sudden intrusion of a voice. The dwarves had long since stopped conversing with him, since his interest was in research while theirs was cleaning up the rubble. He half-glanced back at the woman and said, “Red Eagle? Certainly not! What kind of name is that? Hmph! No, I’m Reddhawk!” And then, he turned his attention back to the stone coffin.
It was Sharliana’s turn to start a bit. She had not expected to have the name wrong. And, though it was hard for her to be certain after the scant profile she saw from his sidelong glance, but she thought she recognized him. She dredged back in her memories for a minute before she tried again. “I... Think I’ve seen you before. Don’t know that we’ve properly met, but didn’t I have a bit of a chat with you once before?”
That seemed to pique his interest enough to break the tomb’s hold on him. He turned to look at her squarely and she struggled to place his face. His memory was a bit quicker than hers, however, perhaps aided by the fact that purple tabards of a Rohirric design are less common than most on the western side of the Grey Mountains.
“Celondim docks! You were there, fishing. Spring-time. Yep. I’m certain of it. Seems a right long way you travelled tah find someone you fished with, way back then!” A wry grin settled onto his face as he waited to find out what it was she was really after.
“Hah. Like I’d come to Moria for fishing, anyhow! No, I was looking for a scholar, and I was sent after you by a dwarf back in the Twenty-first Hall. So, question is… Are you a scholar?”
Convincing Redd
Reddhawk’s grin stayed in place for long moments. “I suppose yah could call me that. I haven’t had any proper training, but I’ve done a fair bit of studying on my own. But,” he paused to make a show of considering her in the flickering torch-light, “what does a big, strong woman like yerself need with a scholar? I’d figure you more one for bashing trouble over the head with a shield than trying to figure out puzzles.”
Sharliana couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at that. With a shake of her head, she answered his barb. “And here I thought scholars were always interested in reading the contents of a book instead of just the dust jacket. But to answer the question, I found something that I think might be of interest to both of us…”
He looked back toward the two dwarves, who were still diligently working at clearing rubble. When he turned back to speak to her, it was with a more serious tone. “Perhaps we should head back to the Twenty-first Hall to talk. This is a place for respect, not conversation.”
She nodded in agreement and the two exited, leaving the others to do their work. Getting back to the dwarven encampment took less time than Sharliana had spent tracking down Reddhawk. That was mainly due to the fact that both of them knew the way and knew that particular hallway to be safe. Neither of them talked until entering the great hall, however. Safe was still a relative term when the mighty city was still overrun by goblins.
They found a quiet corner of the encampment and sat down for a smoke and a drink while they talked about Sharliana’s find. It didn’t take her long to launch into her description of the giant geode and the inscription she had found. It took hardly any longer than the word “inscription” before Reddhawk’s eyes were sparkling at the thought of some secret to be unraveled.
Once she finished, he took a long draw on his pipe and leaned back against a convenient crate. “Well,” he said after he let a puff of smoke rise from his lips, “from your description, I’m sure the writing is Angerthas Moria. Think of it as a dwarven version of Cirth.”
Sharliana looked slightly confused at this. “But isn’t Cirth what we Rohirrim use to write with? I mean, I know a little of that, but I couldn’t make any sense of that writing.”
He shook his head and held up a finger like a teacher. “No, no… It’s true that the peoples of Dale and Rohan did, long ago, adopt Cirth, they’ve modified it to suit the language. When the dwarves adopted it to record their writings, several of the forms changed sounds to fit their own language.”
She nodded slightly, then shrugged. “Well, either way. There’s at least one word inscribed on that thing. I met a dwarf a while ago in here that told me that place names were often inscribed over doors or the like. Though I thought he said they would use a symbol, not writing. But I thought maybe since this thing wasn’t exactly indoors – maybe it’s the name of the courtyard area or something?”
“A fair assumption,” he said with a nod. “But it sounds like it’s a bit of a distance away. Back in the Great Delving, you said? Maybe we should get one of the dwarven guides to take us. They know the quickest routes, after all.”
“And get some supplies, too. More lanterns. Or torches, at least.” Sharliana started ticking off things in her head. “You’ve got paper, I expect? And a quill with some ink? I wonder if the dwarves could spare a ladder? It was a bit up off the ground.” She got up and started wandering toward the guides, following Reddhawk, who was already several steps ahead of her.
The Big Picture
Though it had been a long journey, Reddhawk’s step had grown steadily more lively as the two approached the courtyard. Sharliana was showing the opposite, her feet dragged as the geode came into view. Her pack was noticeably heavier than usual, loaded down with most of the extra supplies the two of them had decided would be needed. She had even been forced to use her axe as a walking stick the last few miles of the journey.
When her hobbit companion stopped dead in his tracks just ahead of her, Sharliana nearly fell over him before she could get her balance and stop. The crystalline reflections of light from their lanterns were just visible in the darkness, a faint outline of dark on dark showing the massive structure just at the edge of vision and light. His hand came up to point at the enormous, hollow boulder on the squat pedestal. “Is… that… it?”
“Yeah,” the exhausted woman said in answer. “We should go up behind it, onto one of the balconies. We should be able to find a safer corner to set up a camp in.” She shifted the heavy pack on her back, trying to get it to press against her flesh in some way it hadn’t over the last several hours.
“Camp? When it’s right here in front of us? You’re joking!” Reddhawk bounded ahead of her and up the steps of the large, circular platform. And just as quickly as he had reached the top step, he lept back and down, narrowly avoiding the snapping jaws of a squat beast with a sharp beak and yellow eyes.
Adrenaline suddenly surged through Sharliana’s body as she saw the deep-claw’s eyes glinting in the light of Reddhawk’s lantern. Almost in the same motion, she shrugged her way out of her pack’s straps and grabbed at a rock on the ground. A moment later, the rock flew toward the creature, along with a loud, challenging shout. Though the rock bounced off its scaly hide, the sight of a woman in plate with an enormous axe drew its attention off the hobbit.
The woman and the beast charged one another, leaving the hobbit behind and to the side of the pony-sized beast. Its powerful legs thrust it over the ground with frightening speed, a mass of muscle and bony jaw ready to devastate anything foolish enough to get in its way. At the last possible moment, however, Sharliana skidded to a stop on the age-worn stone floor and brought her axe around and up in a massive swing, cleaving the air just before the deep-claw’s snout as it likewise dug in its heels in reaction to her attack.
With the beast’s attention elsewhere, the hobbit pulled his twin daggers and fell upon the creature from behind. He spent brief moments studying the creature’s physique before he leapt upon its back and stabbed downward with both glinting knives. The first skidded along the tough skin, bouncing to the side, but the other found its mark and bit deeply into the beast’s torso.
It howled in rage, bucking and threatening to throw the smaller attacker from its back, but the hobbit was quicker. Reddhawk deftly jumped back, off the creature, and landed easily on his feet. A moment of indecision between choice of targets confused the deep-claw – a pause long enough for Sharliana to bring her axe around for another strike. This time, the slow, massive weapon crashed powerfully into the beast’s shoulder, cleaving a huge gash into its flesh before getting stuck between two bones.
Again, the deep-claw roared, and tried to turn toward Sharliana again. Its heavy, rock-hard beak snapped out and closed heavily around her left leg, crunching against the greaves she wore. Even as protected as she was, Sharliana felt the impact and the armor flexed against the strength of the creature’s jaws. With her leg pinned and the axe pulled to the side with the beast’s motion, she was pulled off balance and fell to her side.
Sensing an opening, the deep-claw moved forward. Even hindered by the deep wound on its forequarter, its sheer bulk and sharp jaw posed a serious threat to Sharliana, who tried to push herself back to her feet. But with the creature as focused as it was, it couldn’t see Reddhawk bounding up behind it again. This time, when he jumped at its back, he aimed for the spot between the heavy shoulders, right next to where the axe was still stuck. Both daggers bit deeply into its flesh and severed the beast’s spine.
There was a heavy thump as the body slammed down to the floor, a sound that echoed softly off the distant walls. The hobbit pulled the two blades free and leapt free from the beast one last time. “You okay?” It was all he asked of his travelling companion.
“Nothing broken,” she replied as she clanked her way back to a standing position. “Probably have a nasty bruise on my leg, though. And once the rush wears off, I’m likely to collapse.” She stepped up to the creature, put a foot against the side of its head and yanked on the axe’s handle. It came free with a squelching sound and a splash of blood. “Let’s get that camp set up.”
“Camp. Right!” Reddhawk grabbed up the heavy pack, struggling to walk with it – past the platform with its gigantic geode. Sharliana limped slightly as she followed him up the stairs to the first balcony of the surrounding building. They had a rudimentary camp set up only a few minutes later, and Sharliana slumped onto a bedroll. She only managed to get the least comfortable pieces of armor off before she drifted off to sleep.
Reddhawk sat back with a pipe and a wine-skin and looked out at the bulky shape in the darkness. So, he thought to himself, if we set up one lantern there, and another there… And those bulls-eye lanterns here, there and over there… He ticked through in his mind all the things he wanted to get set up once the both of them had a bit of rest.
Hours later, the two had the lanterns set up and scrutiny of the object began. Sharliana brushed at the surface of the rock, over where the inscription was. “Here’s what I saw first,” she said as she cleared dust from the cut stone with her fingers. “Like I said, some of it looks familiar, but I can’t make any words from it.”
Reddhawk looked closely at the carved characters. His fingers probed the inner surfaces, feeling for imperfections in the carving. Each character was seen and felt in such a manner before he stepped backward to look at the inscription as a whole. Sharliana left him to his work, returning to the building’s stairs to sit.
“As I thought, these runes are Angerthas Moria,” he said over his shoulder at her. “Though, that next to the last one is indistinct. Now, let’s see…”
Sharliana leaned back on the stairs, looking up along the oval-shaped rock. As her eyes traversed its surface, she noticed other carvings, only really visible from further back as she was. She grabbed up another bulls-eye lantern and lit it, playing its light up over the rocky surface. Even as she did so, Reddhawk’s voice carried back to her. “That first character is a ‘B’ sound. And the second, an ‘E’.”
A blue twinkle caught Sharliana’s eye as her lantern’s light moved along the rock surface. “Another carving?” Her words were too quiet to reach the scholar’s ears as he worked. She shifted the light a bit more and found more characters etched into the surface. These were etched more deeply, and inlaid with a crushed, blue stone of some sort.
“And then we’ve got an ‘L’ sound. ‘Bele’? ‘Beleg’? Yes… And it ends in an ‘R’.” Reddhawk walked side to side slowly, viewing the shadows from different angles over the last few characters, two of which were less distinct than the others. Sharliana moved her light higher, finding another blue-inlaid inscription, and then a rather random line that led toward a large, blue diamond form. The shapes were such that they reminded Sharliana of an animal’s head – perhaps a goat with horns. But something nagged at her about that assessment. It just didn’t seem quite right.
“You know,” Reddhawk’s voice came, though Sharliana wasn’t listening any longer. “I think this one – next to the last. I think that’s the same as the second… I think this says… ‘Belegaer’.”
Sharliana shook her head slowly. No, that line of inscriptions - it looks a bit like a toothy mouth, but it’s more writing. And there, a bunch of arrows pointing… up? Not arrows. No… She played the light to the left, finding another line curving in a familiar squiggle.
“But ‘Belegaer’ is the name of the sea, not a room.” Reddhawk turned to look at Sharlina, whose eyes were gazing upward at the huge rock. Almost as one, they both spoke the same words.
“It’s a globe!”
The hobbit ran back to where Sharliana was seated and bound up the steps past her to the balcony. There, he turned and looked back at the enormous rock, nodding. “Yes! Yes, you’re right! We’re right! It’s a globe!”
Sharliana looked back and up at him questioningly. “So, what do the other inscriptions say? The one above Belegaer, ends in the same character. So an ‘R’ sound. I’d say ‘Gondor’, but it’s one character too short.”
Reddhawk shook his head vigorously, “No, you’re right! Angerthas Moria has a single character for ‘ND’ So, that’s ‘G O ND O R’. Gondor! Then, above that…”
Sharliana played the light back up to the third inscription and tried to make a guess at the characters, “Is that K A S E N…?”
“Close,” Reddhawk said in an excited tone. “But that’s an ‘L’ sound, not an ‘S’. That’s one of the sounds that’s different. I believe it says ‘Calenardhon’.”
Sharliana turned to look up at him again, her lantern light turning from the back of the geode and splashing over the second balcony for a moment. “Calenardhon? I’ve never heard of such a place…”
“Sure you have! But not by that name.” Reddhawk held up a hand to point at the globe again. “It’s just north of Gondor. That’s what Rohan used to be called. And then that line above it must be Gwathló – the grey flood. And above that?”
Sharliana played the light back up to the stone and aimed it up near the top. “Arnor?”
“Yes! That’s what it says! And I think… Just to the left? Could you shine… Oh, we might have to move a bit.” He stepped to the side, even though Sharliana didn’t shift other than to move the light as he directed. “Yes, I do believe it is. It’s hard to make out, but I’m pretty sure that says ‘Ered Luin’ up there.”
“I wonder,” Sharliana said as she started to move around the stone the other way, “How much more there is to this?”
Reddhawk followed along, translating as he went. “Well, up top over here is Forodwaith. And there’s Rhovanion and Rhûn. And that’s Mordor, though I’ve never seen it spelled that way. And there’s Haradwaith and Khand. So it goes as far east as Khand.”
“Okay, but what about that blue diamond shape up there,” Sharliana asked as she moved the light back up to highlight it once more.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s Lothlórien or something.” Redd was already returning to their camp to get his journal and other scholarly affects.
“Why would they put Lórien on…” Sharliana stood and looked at the stone map a few moments longer. “Between two rivers… And with mountains north and south… Of course! The big diamond shape is Moria!”
“Hum? What? Yes, of course. Don’t know why I didn’t think of that before!” Reddhawk still wasn’t paying much attention, spending it rather on setting up an easel and another lantern for him to see to paint by. In short moments, he had a canvas stretched across the easel and had set to work.
The several hours that followed were industrious for both, though in terribly different ways. As Reddhawk labored painstakingly over sketches and paintings and copious notes, Sharliana set upon the local deep-claw population, taking breaks to move lanterns. She had discovered that the deep-claws had amazingly tough hides that she was sure could be used to make very stout leather, if she could find a place to treat it before it could rot.
They spent one more rest period at that camp, letting the paintings dry before Reddhawk was willing to roll the canvas back up and make for the Dolven-view. Eventually, however, they did get under way and returned to the dwarf encampment without any further incident.
Epilogue
The Leaf and Bean Tavern was all a-bustle with activity, as it always was. The pet chinchilla scampered up and down the bar, snacking on nuts from the same bowls patrons munched them from. Now and then, one of the tea or coffee drinkers would scratch under its chin or pet its back. At the tables, people talked about farming, weather, smithing or whatever other topics might pop up as the day wore on. All was as it always was in Bree’s self-styled “coffee house”.
Just as conversation in the tavern hit a natural lull, the door opened. Silhouetted in the light from outside was a hobbit carrying a large, flat object, bound in protective paper. He paused only long enough to knock a bit of trail dirt from his boots before entering. Without saying a word, he walked through the room.
Many there marked him as Reddhawk, a regular in the tavern. Just as many noted that he hadn’t been seen for quite some time. His red armor was caked with dust and his face was smudged with sweat and grime from travel. He passed by several people he knew without any word, his attention focused up on a particular painting on the wall that many had commented upon as being boring, plain or otherwise unbefitting to be hung in a frame.
When he reached the wall, Reddhawk reached up to lift the old painting free and set it to the side. With the wall bared, he carefully cut the protective covering from the framed painting he’d been carrying. Still silent, he lifted the new painting up and hung it, adjusting it four times before deciding it was level. Then, and only then, he picked up the remains of the covering and the old painting, carrying both to the bar with him.
Half of the patrons’ eyes followed him as he passed by again. The other half looked at the painting. Its dim but rich tones depicted a scene in an enormous cavern. Centered was a boulder on a pedestal, the surface of which was carved with what looked like a map of the world. Before it stood two people – a hobbit in red and a woman in armor and wearing a purple tabard of Rohirric design. Both gazed up at the engravings upon the stone surface.
Reddhawk settled onto a stool at the bar and Ol’ Pell quickly stepped over to him, pouring a tall mug of Shalwyn’s Special Blackberry Ale. “So, lad. Going to tell us what this is all about? Comin’ in here covered in dust just to replace a painting?”
“Funny you should ask,” Reddhawk said with a huge grin. Then he upended the mug and guzzled down every drop of the strong ale. The effect was almost immediate – warmth spreading through his body and a welcome fuzziness slightly blurring his perception and his mind. “It all started as I was studying this old tomb…”
