”Captain. Hellrien”, said the man who had just entered the meeting room.
”Mmm, greetings, Cutwil. I’m surprised you’ve met before.”
Captain Ebold turned his head to regard the man who had entered the room. The Captain had been tiredly propping his head up on his arm, supported by the armrest. Arindiis came through the door next, heavily armored.
”Askelin will be here shortly”, was all she said.
”I believe it was at the market that we met”, Cutwil explained to Ebold.
”Aye, that we did”, Hellrien confirmed.
Arindiis stared at Cutwil and he looked back at her. She crossed her arms and gave him a hard stare with her gaunt blue eyes through the bridge of her nose. Ebold bit his lip silently and nodded at Cutwil. He glanced briefly across Arindiis, apparently thinking something of her behavior. It was getting dark. The windows of a long stone building across the yard shone yellow in the gloom of late spring evening.
”Captain”, said Arindiis, softening her expression quietly before the disapproving eyes of the Captain of The Bloody Dawn, the most famous – and notorious – sellsword company in the Middle Earth. She sighed and darted her gaze to Hellrien, inspecting her quietly and distantly. Askelin entered, briefly glancing around the room before he took off his hood. He spotted Ebold and bowed his head in solemn greeting.
”If everyone’s here, then please, take your seats”, said Ebold, gesturing weakly at the chairs. He sat himself up and corrected his posture. His eyes betrayed that he was visibly tired.
Askelin was quickly accustomed with his new environment and stepped forward to pull out a chair. ”So… I take it there’s work for us?” he asked in a bland tone. Everyone sat down. Arindiis slouched down on her chair, not quite properly. She glanced at Askelin with a peculiar gleam in her eyes. Hellrien had never met Askelin in person before, but she knew they were lovers.
”Precisely”, said Ebold. ”The sort of job which is... complex enough that it warrants a formal briefing before I send you off for it. I'd send orders, normally, but I can never remember who can and can't read.”
Hellrien drifted off from the discussion. She was thinking about the three weeks she had spent in Towerglan after her deployment in Trestlebridge had ended. She couldn’t remember how many hours she had spent hacking the training dummy in splinters.
She leaned backwards in her chair. The expression in her eyes was withdrawn, turned inwards. Otherwise her face remained expressionless.
Arindiis tilted her head, allowing her long hair to cascade over her protruding chest. ”I can’t read, Ebold captain”, she reminded him softly.
”Well Askelin can, right?” said Ebold.
Askelin looked over to Arindiis and placed a hand softly on her arm.
”I can”, he said quietly. ”You needn't worry about all that. But do you remember when everyone met before we went to Forochel? It's like that, dear.”
”Mmm”, said Ebold, ”well if somebody in your house can read it's good to know anyway. But, movin' on to the task at hand-”
Arindiis nodded enthusiastically and took a moment to consider it. She furrowed her brows and said:
”Well, if I can't read myself, then how can I be sure Askelin can read at all...?”
She looked utterly lost to Askelin.
Ebold paused to pour a cup of mead from a large ceramic jug. It was an awkwardly prolonged silence, and Ebold only continued after taking a first sip. Askelin lightly patted Arin's arm as if to say 'enough' as the man poured his mead... there was a time for talking and a time for listening and Askelin knew this well. Hellrien stretched up instinctively. Arindiis tilted her head at Askelin and clicked her tongue to break the silence, at least momentarily. She patted his arm back and crossed her ankles with her gaze lingering on Ebold.
”A hobbit messenger from Dwaling arrived to the hall yesterday”, said Ebold, ”reporting the murder of an upstanding hobbit citizen, one of the Proudfoots, I believe. The circumstance of any murder in the Shire is unusual, but our perpetrator is especially abnormal. The hobbits report the killer to be a mad dwarf, who's bigger than mos'. Over five feet high, allegedly.”
Cutwil stroked his chin, furrowing his brows.
”We don't know anything else about this dwarf besides his appearance”, Ebold continued, ”but it is at leas' outlandish enough to be outstanding. The Proudfoots urge us to act quickly to track the dwarf down and bring him to justice.”
Arindiis parted her lips like she was about to speak out. Instead of speaking, however, she looked to Askelin, expecting him to speak for them. Cutwil stroked his chin, deep in thought. He looked around at the others. Askelin furrowed his brows, sat upright and placed his hands on the table.
”This is out of the ordinary to be sure”, he said. ”Dwarves are by nature honorable. And to hear something as grim such as a murder happen to the little folk is all but unheard of. It would only be right to do them justice, no?”
Arindiis frowned slightly at Askelin's words. She flicked her gaze at Ebold and spoke, quite assertively: ”What do we get for this job?”
Ebold took a sip from his cup.
”Aye, seems only right. There are evil dwarves in the world, taken by greed - the Dourhand clan bein' the only ones I know of in this part of the world. But the size of this dwarf is utterly bizarre.”
”Are we sure it’s a dwarf?” Cutwil cut in.
Hellrien took a document from the table and started reading it over, furrowing her brows.
”I've already got my doubts, Cutwil, but we should find out. Arindiis, this'll pay wages for active work, considering you'll be tracking this murderer. Though you'll only be paid the lower travel expenses for traveling from here to Dwaling.”
Askelin rubbed his chin in thought. He looked over to Cutwil and hummed quietly: ”Well... halflings would see someone of that height as frightfully large regardless. And I've never seen one with a beard. Do you have any experience with dwarves? For I know them not.”
”It is good pay, as the Proudfoots are wealthy, though the wages are not so extraordinary as your target.”
Cutwil nodded to both of them. ”I have had some experiences - as short as they were - they seem a honorable, pride, yet stubborn folk.”
”I do have some experience on dwarves”, Hellrien put in.
”But aye, as Ebold says... not all dwarves can be called good”, said Askelin. ”But that wasn't what I was getting at. Surely a dwarf that tall would be considered odd. Maybe among their ilk - Dourhand or no - he could have some repute. A name or a sort of legend to him? Do you suppose the dwarf we seek is infamous among his kin?”
Hellrien read aloud from the document: ”’Height: Over 5 feet. Weight: At least 15 stones. Black hair, black beard. Weapons: Dwarven war axe, sidesword, a bow, a lot of knives.’ Sounds bizarre, but what else could it be?”
”Aye, and a dwarven axe is something of an indicator of a dwarf too, no?” Ebold asked. ”Indeed, Hellrien will be the task leader for this contract. She's one of our most experienced mercenaries for field work.”
Askelin nodded, furrowed his brows and stroked his chin. Arindiis licked her lips and seemed to be staring at the mug Ebold was drinking from. Eventually she nudged Askelin, leaned over to him and whispered: ”Will you pour me some mead?”
”Not right now”, Askelin whispered back. ”After the meeting, yes?”
”I also have some knowledge about dwarves and their culture”, Hellrien said. ”I once lived in the Blue Mountains for a few months.”
”That might help you trace this 'dwarf' at least, if he indeed is one. We shall see”, said Ebold.
”They have their racial and cultural traits. They tend to be honest and honorable, yes, but they are also individuals, so there are many kinds. Never heard of anyone like this before.”
”Anyway”, said Ebold, ”you shall begin your search with the glassblowers in Dwaling, on the border with Evendim. You'll have to be ready tomorrow if you're to make good time trackin' clues. You're to follow this dwarf and take justice - by which, I mean do what's convenient for you at the time. Capture him if it's reasonable, otherwise, proof of his death for the Proudfoots will suffice. Any questions?”
Askelin nodded sternly to Ebold. Orders had been given and he understood them well.
”Understood”, he said calmly. ”Though I do not feel that we're going to be able to subdue and capture the dwarf without great struggle and personally I would not risk being too careful with him. From what I gather he sounds quite dangerous.”
Arindiis nodded. Hellrien was already mortified by the long journey ahead of them. It was not that she didn’t like horse riding, but a trip to Dwaling would take four days at least. She could imagine the itinerary in her mind: from Bree to Adso’s camp, from there to Stock. Then all the way to Brockenborings in northern Shire. From there they would have to ride further north to Oatbarton and eventually Dwaling. Yes, she thought, it will take four days at least.
”Aye… do we have any idea on his motives? Tracking him is one thing and I am sure it can be done, but if he would be heading somewhere, where do you suppose will he go?” said Askelin and muttered under his breath, all but quietly: ”We'd be damned if we end up in Forochel again. I'm sure Ealstan would love that.”
”I don't know for sure, but if I had to make a bet I would say Ered Luin... to his own kind”, Hellrien remarked.
”Will you give us the notes on him?” Arindiis asked. ”It might be good to have some sort of description at hand.”
”I'm sure we can take the documents. And the hobbits in Oatbarton and Dwaling are bound to have more clues and information.”
”There'll be no deduction to your pay if you have to kill the dwarf, that's just fine. Perhaps the family would pay you more of him captured, but it's probably not worth taking the chance. Do as you please”, said Ebold.
”I don't think there are any other dwarves that tall and that large. We won't be needing to profile them with notes and a sketch or nothing”, said Askelin.
Arindiis furrowed her brows.
”But the height is not actually definite. It may be an accurate assumption from the smallfolk”, she said, turning to Askelin. ”They tend to exaggerate a lot.”
”That’s a good point too”, said Hellrien.
”Well we know something for sure. Black hair and black beard”, said Cutwil.
”Aye, I think we shall ask around at Dwaling. I do not know much of hobbits other than that they enjoy gossiping and are somewhat talkative. We should be able to discern more by enquiring a bit”, said Arindiis.
Cutwil stroked his chin.
”When do we leave for Evendim then?”
”As soon as possible. Early tomorrow morning”, said Hellrien.
Arindiis licked her lips and looked away from Askelin.
”It’s just a thought”, she mumbled.
”We can't afford to waste time here. The dwarf has already had a few days on us”, said Ebold.
”And the trip to Oatbarton will take us at least four days”, Hellrien reminded.
”You should take horses. That might be the only advantage of speed you might get over this dwarf.”
”Pity”, said Cutwil. ”I was hoping to bring Gruff. Aye, horses would probably be good.”
Askelin mumbled something to Arin, then raised his voice a bit: ”We shall get some rest and be up early. Arin, you get to bring Meeko with us this time. How is he with other horses? No... how is he with other people?”
Arindiis clicked her tongue.
”He’s fine with both, maybe just a little shy. I just..." She paused and looked up, baring her teeth in thought. ”I'm not sure he can carry us both all that way.”
”Do you need to borrow a horse, Askelin?” Ebold asked. Askelin nodded.
”Aye... Meeko is Arin's horse, I shall be needing a horse to borrow. I ride well, and I assume we shall be traveling as light as what is deemed appropriate. If this dwarf is on the move in haste then so must we be.”
”I shall arrange for you to borrow a horse, then.”
Arindiis glanced at Ebold sharply.
”Not a mare, please.”
”A mare, or not a mare?” Ebold asked, unsure if he had heard right.
Arindiis shook her head.
”Not a mare”, she insisted, crossing her arms. ”And a good one, well trained. Please.”
”I'll do what I can to avoid a mare”, Ebold replied, ”but I can't promise they'll be especially well trained. We shall see. Any horse in the company should at least be fairly well trained, I would hope, anyway.”
Askelin leaned back in his seat and rolled his eyes at Arin, who pursed her lips and glanced at him. ”Thank you, Captain.”
”Do we have any other issues?” Ebold continued.
”Meeko is more wild than any horse I have met but Arin seemed to train him perfectly well regardless. But then again she's good with animals like that”, said Askelin.
”As long as it's not some wild stallion you just captured from the wilds and needs breaking in”, Hellrien grinned.
”Meeko has hardly been trained, Aske...”
”Well at least he listens to you…”
Arindiis smirked at Hellrien’s comment and looked away shyly. ”Not entirely…”
Hellrien looked at Ebold. ”I have no more questions personally, sir.”
”Grand. Does anybody else have issues?”
”Nay”, said Cutwil. Askelin and Arindiis shook their heads. Ebold stood up from his chair, smiling weakly.
”Good. Then the task is set. Meet outside the hall tomorrow at, say, nine.”
Hellrien got up. ”Thank you, sir.”
Cutwil got up slowly, nodding.
”Thank you all for comin'”, Ebold said briefly. ”I 'ope to see you all again soon.” Hellrien nodded. Arindiis sighed deeply, then rose from the chair. She looked around at everyone in the meeting room, nodded at Ebold and turned to Askelin, who stood up also and tucked the chair underneath the table.
”So be it. Early night for us, Arin. We need to be up early whether you like it or not!” he grinned at Arin and turned on his heels to face the door. Ebold retreated back into his office, picking up his cup from the table as he passed.
Hellrien was the last to leave the meeting room. She closed the door quietly behind her.
