[Folwren]

Skald's suggestion of stopping for the night sounded excellent to Bror. Everyone else agreed and they took the paths that led to the said Uncle of the three Hardhammer brothers. Manni, Vetr, and Tef explained things to their surprised uncle and within a few moments, his astonishment at seeing nearly a score of young, tired, and hungry dwarves standing on his threshold turned into warm hospitality and he welcomed them in.

There was much talking during the supper he provided and afterwards, the old Hardhammer was talked into telling one of the old stories that he knew so well. He was and old, silver bearded dwarf known for the way he told the old tales and he knew the best ones to relate. So, after seeing that the fire in the hearth was huge and all of the dwarves had places to sleep once the tale was done, he launched into the story.

Try as he might, Bror could not keep his eyes open. The warmth of the large, hospitable hall filled with friends and comfort, and the voice of their story teller, pulled him farther and farther into that other world until he fell into a complete and dreamless sleep.

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Tori Ironfoot woke him the following morning, nudging him until he woke with the toe of his boot.
'Come along, sleepy,' he said laughing. 'You fell asleep during the story and you're still abed while the others are at breakfast. Hurry up, or even I shan't wait for you, nor will I save any food. Don't expect the others to.'

Bror got up quickly. 'Why didn't anyone call me?' he grumbled, stuffing his feet into his boots. 'It's not like I've an alarm in my own head.'

Tori only laughed again and went out.

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After breakfast, the company of dwarves took their leave of Master Hardhammer and went away with many thanks.


They walked on swiftly, Skald with Bildr and Bisi in the lead. There was little talking on this last march. Their minds were occupied with what the near future would bring. Most of them had been out of the mines before, but few of them had ever gone out to fight. None of them were frightened, or had the whisper of a thought to go back, but no one, regardless of how stout of heart, will leave their home without some moments of silent thought.

They went down wide, shallow stairs and came to the Second Level. Many dwarves passed in these halls and there was much coming and going. Skald continued to lead them straight on. Bror stared about him in awe. He had seen these halls a few times, though not many, and every time he passed, his wonder increased. The pillars that went up from the smooth, level floor to the rocky ceiling were carved in the most intricate and beautiful fashion, branching out at the top and bearing the resemblance of huge, silver trees.

They passed from the first hall and entered another. High in the walls, shafts of sunlight from outside the mountain streamed down through the wide windows. At the end of the hall they passed through huge, stone doors that stood open. Guards were at either side and they nodded as Skald passed through and the others followed.

Before them was the gate. The bright light from outside poured through, for they were open. Many Dwarven guards sat and stood about it.

‘We’ll wait for Riv and Uncle Orin in here,’ Skald said, turning around and facing his company.

The place they were in acted as a courtyard between the Eastern Gate and the door they had just passed through. It was brightly lit, for in the ceiling were cut windows. A blue sky could be seen from where they stood on the ground, and some white clouds floating peacefully across it.

They walked to the right and stopped by the wall to talk and rest until the others should arrive. Bror kept half an eye on the door to the mines as he carried on conversation with the dwarves.