<b>The hiril greeted each of the men in turn, Allassiel assessing the newcomers quietly, while Pegawen was warmer and welcomed them with a smile. As everyone sat down at the table, she leaned forward, interested to hear more about the races of this land. It was quickly apparent that the similarities between the races held as true as they had from a distance. <br/>
<br/>
When the food was brought out for everyone, Pegawen lifted an eyebrow at the large meal Flagdon had ordered, and grinned at his explanation. She couldn't help but think of the small hobbits she'd encountered, who seemed to eat their own weight in food with great ease. <br/>
</b><br/>“<b>You'll be eating for the all of us, by the looks of that meal,” Allassiel noted, and flashed the dwarf a grin, reaching onto her own plate for a berry. As she chewed, she studied each of them in turn. <i>The human reminds me of many of the horse lords. Young, proud. I only hope he's not as foolish as Theodred. </i>She frowned, recalling the brash young prince and his ill fate, before turning her attention to Flagdon. <i>The dwarf is definitely young, but sturdy as is with their people, </i>she thought. She had dealt with plenty of dwarves in the past, for they were some of the finest craftsmen next to elves and, though they tended to be greedy – <i>Did they not release the balrog in Moria? - </i> learning how to work weapons with them had been educational. <br/>
<br/>
When Lotharn asked Pegawen if she'd found anything else about the fabled Dwarven Axe, Allassiel turned her attentions back to the present. “This dwarven axe reminds me of another such, a long time ago,” she stated. <br/>
<br/>
Pegawen thought for a moment, then nodded. “You mean the one that the dwarves used to kill Azgog with,” she stated. “Yes, I had noticed the similarities myself.” She picked apart the piece of bread in her hands, her eyes half closed. “From what I could piece together, after the battle of the Citadel, the axe returned with the dwarves to their kingdom, where each of the tribes of dwarves fell into a feud over who should claim victory and the weapon. There was to be a tournament, to determine the strongest of them, who would wield both the axe and the crown, but on the night before it was to begin, the axe simply vanished.” <br/>
<br/>
Allassiel scratched her head upon hearing this. “Weapons don't grow legs and walk away. There must be more to the tale.”</b><br/><br/>“<b>Indeed,” Pegawen stated. “The only clue I could find was the accounting of the young dwarf tasked with guarding the axe until the tournament. He was found that morning, babbling about a large dwarf with the biggest white beard he'd ever seen, coming in the night and taking it. He said the dwarf claimed the axe was his. The dwarf,” Pegawen paused to think, “Bannorn? Banron? I can't recall exactly. He was stripped of his rank and station, ridiculed by the others for telling tales. They searched his belongings, surely he'd have taken it somewhere close, but it was never found.”</b><br/><br/>“<b>So he was the last to have seen this axe? Is he still alive? A descendant, perhaps?” Allassiel turned to Flagdon just in time to see him stuff a large chunk of roasted meat into his face. “Do you recall of this tale, or the dwarf by this name? We should need speak to him, if he still breathes.”</b><br/><br/>“<b>There is also a small journal in the library, but it was not of elven language. It appears to be dwarven perhaps. It could hold some further knowledge.” Pegawen brushes off her skirts. “I know where it is, I could go fetch it back here.”</b>