<b>They gathered the bedrolls in silence and were on their way, leaving behind the stench of old death and decay. Even the hobbits were quiet, the strain of the journey and the morning's battle showing on their faces. By the time they paused to water the horses, Pippen was already asleep and Merry's chin bounced against his chest as his head bobbed in time with his mount's gait. <br/>
<br/>
Flagdon was first off his horse, muttering a dwarvish complaint as he stretched his legs. <br/>
</b><br/>“<b>No, master dwarf,” Allasea replied as she motioned Jax to go forage. “I would agree that these steeds aren't suited to a dwarven stature. Perhaps one more to your liking can be acquired when we pass through your homelands.”</b><br/><br/>“<b>Horses, nay my lady. Dwarves have no use for them in the mines. A goat, however, would be easy to come by. And a lot more comfortable too,” he added, rubbing at his back.”</b><br/><br/>“<b>Would they be able to keep pace with the horses?” Pegawen asked, returning from the stream with a filled waterskin.</b><br/><br/>“<b>Keep up and outpace them.” Flagdon tugged at his beard and sniffed it. “Especially in the rocky expanses of my homes.”</b><br/><br/>“<b>Which we'll not be arriving at, unless we're moving.” Timberlane came up behind the small group ushering the hobbits in front of him – Pippen rubbing his eyes and Merry yawning. “These matters will be tended when the time is right and this isn't it.”</b><br/><br/><b>Allasea lifted an eyebrow and headed to fill her own skin, wandering over to where Haldir washed his face in the water.</b><br/><br/><b>At the wizard's urging, they were soon on the move again, more alert though no more talkative than they'd been earlier that day. <br/>
<br/>
For the next few days they pushed on, pausing briefly to tend the horses or to get the precious few hours of rest they could. The urgency of finding the final stone weighed heavily, as did the constant vigil against new foes. Fortune held, and by the fifth day the mountains were visible on the horizon. The sea, Flagdon had said, was beyond it.</b><br/><br/><b>The sight of stone and sky heartened the dwarf, as he perked up and began pointing out different features to the group. Pegawen merely nodded and smiled as Flagdon explained the history of yet another cliff on the mountain's face.</b><br/><br/><i><b>How can he possibly tell one from another, from this distance? s</b></i><b>he thought as he told the tale of a long ago relative who fought a hoard of wyrms on his own with nothing but an axe and a dinner knife. She bit her lip to keep from laughing and peeked over at Allassiel to see her nodding attentively and rolling her eyes.</b><br/><br/><b>As they neared the entrance to the mountain stronghold, a small contingent of dwarves came out to greet them. “Halt, who goes there?” a dwarf demanded, stepping forward with a glare, before spotting Flagdon. “Well by the beard of the first one, if it isn't cousin Flagdon!” He removed his helm and a riot of copper hair and beard tumbled down.</b><br/><br/>“<b>Arrygg! Greetings to you!”</b><br/><br/><b>The two met in a hug, with a great thumping of backs before they stepped apart. “Cousin, how may I serve you and your family?” He lifted a busy brow and looked past Flagdon at the group.</b><br/><br/>“<b>I need to see the king of the mountain. It's most urgent.”</b><br/><br/>“<b>Aye, things are urgent alright.”</b><br/><br/>“<b>Oh?” Flagdon tugged his beard.</b><br/><br/>“<b>I'll tell you on the way to the king. This way, is no good to stand out here any longer than need.” He motioned the group inside. “Make haste.”</b><br/><br/><b>The group gave a puzzled look between them, but followed the dwarves inside. What was going on?</b>