2946: Introduction-Borin, son of Dorin

[Vladim]

(OOC: Original content by Vladim, Diofant & Ipphli)

Every autumn, in king Dain’s hall, the same ritual would be repeated. Frar the beardless, chieftain of the dwarves of the Grey Mountains, veteran of the battle of the five armies, leader of the Grey Band, would petition Dain Ironfoot, king of Erebor, for soldiers to reclaim the Greydelve. A handful of proud dwarven warriors, the distinguished Grey Band, always followed Frar as a constant reminder of what the dwarves of the Grey Mountains had sacrificed to give Dain his throne. Borin was one of them.

The two leaders of dwarves would repeat the same arguments. The wise king Dain would counsel for caution; Frar would stress that, had Thorin done the same, king Dain would not be sitting on his throne. Dain would promise to consider the matter when the dwarves of Erebor were stronger, and had a mightier army. Frar would then remind Dain of the Grey Band’s valour, and Dain would retort by stressing that all dwarves fought bravely in the battle.

Eventually, Frar, frustrated and disappointed, would whisper veiled accusations, suggesting that the dwarves of Erebor were eager to seize the hoard of Smaug but had no interest in helping their kin. And again, like every year, he and his men would refuse to participate in the celebrations for the anniversary of the victory, which took place in November.

After the audience, the veterans of the Grey Band would gather in an alehouse and discuss, reminisce and make plans for the future.

Surrounded by his former brothers-in-arms, Borin is sitting by a table, listening to the dwarves’ opinions about how the audience went.

’I grow weary of king Dain’s excuses!’ says one of the eldest. ’If Erebor refuses to help us, we should seek help elsewhere. Even the Men of Dale have more honor!’ From the reactions, it is clear that not everyone agrees, but the comrades keep their mouths shut out of respect for the grizzled warrior.

[Vladim]

Borin sat, brooding over his ale as he listened with half an ear to what the others were saying. As much as the farce between Frar and Dain was a ritual by now, so was the grumbling afterwards. But Borin couldn't just sit and say nothing, not this year. He'd served under Dain since he was the ruler over the Iron Hills. The King was a good dwarf, wise and strong; he'd proven that at the Battle. So for Obon to belittle the King so...

"The King does what he thinks best." Borin looked up from the tabletop then, meeting the eyes of the elder. "The goblins weren't the only ones to suffer at the Battle. Our numbers are few. There's still much work to be done under the mountain to restore it. Why send precious dwarves to retake a hold with no treasure, no material wealth to be had?" Borin held up a hand to forestall Obon's and the others' objections. He knew them, as well as they did. But someone had to say them out loud.

"Honor should compel him, yes. Or perhaps the promise of the Firehearts, should they be found." The grizzled soldier shot a look at Frar, inviting him to say something on the topic. If anyone living knew where the mine was, it would be Frar. But before the chieftain could speak, Borin turned back to the others. "But he has his own kingdom to rebuild and protect. We can all understand that. No, what we need is something more than honor to force his hand. We need to make him help us.

Obon is right: we find other allies. When the Men, or even Elves, agree to help us free our homeland, how can Dain do less than aid us as well? If he didn't, the shame before all our kin would drive him from his throne. The Men and Elves will remember where the bulk of the enemy at the Battle came from, or we will remind them! Freeing the Greydelve will be the first step in removing the orc and goblin threat from our home, which will protect their homes. If Dain won't admit that, then we'll make his neighbors see it!" There, he'd finally said it. As much as he loved and respected Dain Ironfoot, Borin loved his lost homeland more. He would see his people would return to their ancestral halls, or he'd die in the attempt.

[Vladim]

"Honor has nothing to do with it." A dusty-looking dwarf with a massive scar over his left eye spoke up, without looking at anyone. He'd worn a cloak that's seen better days, trimmed with grey fur that looked like it came off a wolf that died of age. The leather on the belt that crossed his chest was old, and his mail had long lost its glimmer, sprinkled with what looked like grime and ash. His massive two-headed axe was leaned against the table, and the dwarf wore a shield at his back and a sword on his belt. His boots had been as worn as his cloak, and suggested he'd had the pair for many a road. "Its survival." He sipped on his ale glumly. "Da's told me about Azanulbizar, and the war before it. Dain has finally found a place for our people that was originally OURS. Many of us died in the Battle of Five Armies. Many orc filth, too..." He muttered a curse. "But who knows how many are left? How well they're fortified? Their numbers, their chiefs? We know nothing. We can offer Dain nothing." He put the mug down and studied the company, finally looking at Borin. "If we scouted and got some information... Come up with a plan. Maybe he'd be more forthcoming'. We dont want his disdain, after all. We want him to understand this is our PATH, as dwarves."

[Vladim]

Borin nods as the other dwarf speaks, a thoughtful expression on his face as he strokes his beard. When Blain finishes, Borin speaks up. "Fair point. Greydelve, maybe even Gundabad, coulda been emptied for the Battle. Or they could still be full to bursting, or somewhere in between. Someone ought to go check. Meanwhile, someone ought to go find allies. Then we meet back here at Erebor, present Dain with both. He'll have to agree then." The grizzled veteran looks over at Frar then, bowing his head respectfully. "What do you think, lord?"

[Vladim]

Frar the beardless, who has been following the discussion closely, turns his attention to Borin and exclaims loudly: 'Ha! You expect elves to help our cause? You'd have better luck if you asked orcs!' The comment is well-received by the majority of the veterans, who share no love for the folk of Thranduil, and they raise their ales in approval.

After the commotion has settled, the chieftain looks at Blain and addresses his earlier points. 'We already have troubles in our holdings with orc raids and Thranduil's encroachment. We cannot afford to send all of our own, but there is wisdom in scouting.' His veterans all nod, and there seems to be approval of this plan, as many of the dwarves begin to volunteer for the task.

Despite this general approval, Frar has other priorities. 'If Dain refuses to help, then I shall first seek help elsewhere. Dragontide and the gathering of the five armies are nigh, and there will be many Men in Dale and Esgaroth. Some of them veterans, like us. If we convince them to join us, then Dain will not be able to refuse us-shame and honor would compel him. Who stands with me?'

Obon and the other dwarves immediately promise to join their leader on his journey to Dale and Lake-town.

 

OOC

You can now choose whether to join Frar in his recruitment efforts in Dale and Lake-town, or strike out on your own. The two are not mutually exclusive: you can part ways after Dale and/or Lake-town, too. If you opt for the journey to Dale first (Lake-town will be later), please give me a Travel check (TN 14) in the dice thread.

[Vladim]

Borin grumbled as Frar laughed at him, but he said nothing. Instead he sat down, drinking his ale sullenly. It was a good plan, he knew it! The orcs of the Grey Mountains threatened the elves' precious forest constantly. As much as Thranduil and his folk may dislike dwarves, they hated orcs and dragons. There was no question who they'd rather have as their neighbors to the north. And if that didn't work, there was always the promise of the FIrehearts...

When Frar spoke his own intentions, and called for volunteers, Borin stood and volunteered as quickly as any others. Looking for aid from the other races had been his suggestion, after all. And the men of the lake might see reason. Or greed. Whatever it took to retake their homeland.

[Vladim]

The arrival of the small company of dwarves in Dale coincides with the preparations for the Gathering of Five Armies. While celebrations of the victory are held every year, this autumn marks the fifth anniversary of the victory. As such, the scale of the preparations exceeds previous years by far. Indeed, this year, people from all over Wilderland will gather in Dale to celebrate-even representatives from as faraway places as the Shire are rumoured to arrive.

While the Gathering is a good several months away, the dwarves witness the arrival of new visitors with each passing day. Frar will have nothing of it, despite being a veteran, and instead petitions for an audience with King Bard as soon as he arrives. ’The King is a busy man’, the dwarves are told, ’and with the celebrations at hand, he has many tasks to attend to.’

Despite Frar’s insistence, and attempts to convince different members of Bard’s court, the answer is always the same. Without another choice, Frar and the dwarves are forced to wait for a whole month in Dale. During this time, Frar discusses extensively with Borin and Blain about the possibility of a small scouting mission.

After one month’s waiting, one of the noble lords of King Bard’s court finally visits the dwarves. He is a big man, tall and fat, with black, well kempt hair and a large beard that is equally neat. He wears a fine chain shirt, covered by beautifully ornate clothing that indicates his standing, and his demeanour indicates pride and authority. The dwarves have seen this man before-he is lord Ewald: a warrior and a member of King Bard’s court.

Ewald visits the dwarves while Frar is out, petitioning another lord yet again for an audience with Bard. It seems that his timing is deliberate, because upon discovering that Frar is elsewhere, he does not leave, but seeks out other dwarves to speak to.

’I see the tales of dwarven stubbornness were not exaggerated!’ he exclaims. ’I am Lord Ewald of Dale,’ he boasts, ’and I am here to see your leader. But I hear that he is attending to some task at the royal court.’

Obon confirms this.

’Very well!’ he exclaims, feigning disappointment. ’Who can I speak to then? Does this Frar have a second-in-command?’

Both Borin and Blain know that they are both qualified for such a role, as they are trusted by Frar. And although they bear no official title, they are certain that Frar would not disapprove of speaking to the Lord.

[Vladim]

Glancing at the others for a moment, Borin stepped forward. He wore his armor, polished until it shone. He bore no weapons, although they were close at hand. His magnificent helm, an heirloom of his family for countless generations, rested on the table at his elbow, faceplate facing the human noble. While his own clothing was nowhere near as fine as those of Ewald, Borin stood tall and proud, trying to project strength and confidance. "I am Borin, son of Dorin. You may speak with me, Lord Ewald. What can I help you with?" Perhaps, if he could convince this man to aid their cause, they could catch the king's ear. The man was a noted warrior (for a human), and so might be more sympathetic to their plight.

[Vladim]

Ewald nods and approaches Borin, so that he can speak to him better. ’Can we speak privately, master dwarf?’ he says, trying to avoid drawing the attention of the others. He encourages Borin to follow, urging him in a different room of the inn, where the company of dwarves was staying.

---------------------------

Assuming that Borin follows, Ewald speaks to him again when they are alone.

’I have been sent by King Bard with a message for your chieftain, master Frar.’ he says sternly. ’Yet my king fears that your lord, Frar, will not listen unless the message is delivered by one of his own. King Dain said he is… tenacious… in his opinions…’

He pauses, considering his words carefully before proceeding.

’King Bard has taken note of your request. He understands that your cause is just. However, this is an internal matter of your folk, to be decided by King Dain and none other.

King Bard is but a Man-he does not wish to interfere in the politics of your folk, not does he want to antagonize King Dain, who is his good friend. Your chieftain, lord Frar, is free to seek support in Esgaroth, and from the Northmen of Wilderland, but he will not find it in Dale.

I can provide accommodations in Esgaroth, should you choose to take my counsel, but I cannot suggest remaining in Dale.’ he concludes, leaving no room for alternative courses of action.

’Now, is there anything you would like to have conveyed to my king?’

[Vladim]

"An internal...doesn't want to...," Borin forced himself to remain calm, despite his heart beginning to pound. His hands clenched into fists at his side, his expression darkening. Finally, when he felt he could keep his voice at something lower than a shout, he replied, "The Grey Mountains are now the lair of orcs, goblins, and worse. We killed many of them at the Battle, true, but there will be more, unless we do something about it! And they will remember what occurred here five years ago, same as do, and they'll be out for blood. Better we take the fight to them, than to wait for another army to march on us!

Sir Ewald, you're known as a brave man, a cunning warrior, even among the dwarves. Surely you can understand this? And besides, if you were to lose Dale tomorrow, would you not ask all those who profess to be your friends for their aid in retaking it? That's all Frar is doing: asking his friends for help. King Dain is a good man, but some would say he's overly cautious. He says he hasn't got the men and equipment to spare to help us retake our home. Which is why we ask for aid from our other friends! If he sees that his own men will not stand alone, he's sure to help us. He respects King Bard, listens to him. If your king were to pledge his aid when the time came, Dain would as well! Can we count on your support? Will you talk to your king on our behalf?"

[Vladim]

'I have, and I will.' lord Ewald replies. 'But the matter is out of my hands.' he insists.

'You must remember that the dwarves were not the only ones who suffered heavy losses. King Bard has prioritized the re-building of Dale, same as your King has focused on the restoration of Erebor. When their tasks are complete, then they can look towards expanding their realms.'

He sighs. 'I am putting together an expedition that will travel through Wilderland in the early automn. You may not have your army yet, but there may be allies to be had in other places. I'd welcome the addition of a dwarf as well-travelled as you to the party. And besides, there may be knowledge to be gathered in the lands of the Beornings and the Woodmen. After all, mount Gundabad is very far from here...'

[Vladim]

Borin wanted to sight in frustration, but he managed to hold it in. "Don't sell yourself short, Lord Ewald. You got more influence with the King than you think, I reckon. But, I thank you for your support. Rebuilding is important, yes, but how long will it take? Years? Decades? By then the filthy orcs and goblins will have replaced their losses, and our chance to drive them out will be gone! The time to act is now! You say Gundabad is far away. I say, it's close enough to send an army to Erebor and Dale. We both know it to be true from experience. Remember that.

"Now, as for your offer, I'm listening. They live closer to the Grey Mountains than you, so perhaps they'll be more motivated to help. Tell me more." Borin tucks his thumbs behind his belt, a look of polite interest on his face.

[Vladim]

’You may be right,’ replies Ewald, ’yet without solid information, we can only guess. But if we travel east, we can learn more of the Enemy’s movements. If the orcs' numbers are growing, then you may yet convince your king and mine of your plan. But even if this is not the case, it cannot hurt to have a friend in the court of King Bard…

I can offer the company of my men: soldiers, veterans and hunters, not traders who have never heard of Gundabad… With us, you will be safe, and you will travel swiftly. And while my mission is to strengthen the bonds between the Men of Wilderland, you need not follow me. You are free to pursue your own business whenever you want. What say you? Will you join?’

[Vladim]

The dwarf thinks about the offer for only a moment before nodding his head. "Aye, I will be glad to travel with you and yours. Just tell me when and where to meet, and I will be there." He sounded cool and collected, almost as if he was really the one honoring Ewald with his acceptance. In truth, what the man said made sense: they had to know the state of things in the Grey Mountains. Hard facts would go a long way to convincing the two kings of helping. Numbers, locations, supplies, all these would prove vital to not only gaining aid, but in prosecuting the war to take back their home. His home. The thought put a grim smile on his face.

[Vladim]

Lord Ewald appears content, and explains to Borin that his group will leave from Lake-town in three fortnights. It is there that he expects the two of them to meet again, to travel west towards the lands of the Beornings. As he bids the dwarves farewell, he encourages Borin to share all this information with Frar.

-------------------------------------------------

In the following days, the company of dwarves travels to Esgaroth, as Frar’s efforts to secure an audience with the king of Dale prove unfruitful. With each passing day, Frar grows more frustrated, and his frustration is amplified by the indifference of the Men of the Lake towards his cause. His proclamations about reclaiming the Greydelve and crushing the orcs of the Grey Mountains, made in taverns, Inns and the Market pool, fall on deaf ears, attracting only the attention of a few curious onlookers.

A week after the company’s arrival in Lake-town, two dwarves, Polin and Pomin, brothers and Frar’s companions from before the Battle of Five Armies, begin spreading rumours that the Greydelve has much gold and great treasures. Any dwarf would recognize this to be an outright lie, as the Greydelve was never a rich mine, but the promise of gold and gems slowly begins to draw greater crowds…