***** Erebor Time & Weather Service ******************************************

** Real time is: Fri Mar 10 13:19:45 2000, GMT -8 ** 
Elendor time is: Early Night (9 PM) on Monday, 10 October 3019. 
In the Autumn sky, The new moon is like a black hole among the stars. 

****************************************** Erebor Time & Weather Service *****

Ardin

Ardin is a young looking dwarf with brown hair and eyes the colour of jade. He
wears a dark green jacket matching his eyes, a blue shirt, dark brown baggy
trousers and sturdy boots. If outside, Ardin wears a maroon felt hat. On his
hands, he carries several rings with big gems, around his neck he wears a big
golden necklace with a halibut shaped, sky blue sapphire.

Jorin

	Before you is the most eloquent looking dwarf. At about 4 feet and 2
inches of height this Khazad shifts occasionally and his chest heaves uneasily
after the simplest gesture. Actually he looks almost shy the way his deep brown
eyes shift about observing the most minute of details. However, any one who
truly knows him can testify that he is in fact the complete opposite,
especially in business.
	Draping over his broad shoulders is a long flowing green cloak,
fastened together at his breast by a sizeable jeweled emblem. His hood is
pulled back and rests lightly down his back, coming nearly to his waist. His
short hair is perfectly set, blowing on occasion from the surrounding air
circulation. From his chin hangs a magnificently maintained brown beard which
is braided into many ends and held fast in his belt by gem studded ties.
	Jewelry shines abundantly on Jorin pleading for attention. You can see
a glimpse of gold and diamonds shining out from necklaces beneath his beard.
Also proudly worn are large jeweled rings on his fingers, all of them. Many of
these rings bear the symbol of his clan, Bundazanul, as does the brooch
clasping his cloak. Sticking out from its poor concealment under the cloak is
the very bottom of the haft of Jorin's battle_axe, also gem studded.
	More than likely as you now peer at him Jorin is puffing on his perfect
pipe, handed down for generations of his family. This pipe is his prize
possession, though he often allows friends a quick smoke. His love for business
and his lust for good pipe-weed always have him travelling, though by his looks
he is not daunted easily. This obviously rich dwarf isn't always friendly to
those he considers 'under' him, but everyone surprises themselves and others
sometimes.

Caitlin

Each strand of dark spiraled hair has been painstakingly drawn back and
interwoven into submission then bound with a simple leather band. Such a simple
hairstyle makes this woman's softly rounded face look closer to one of teen
years then one closing out her twenties. A tiny pair of golden rimmed
spectacles sit upon the bridge of rather small and non-descript nose. If truth
be told, the only feature worth notice upon her face rests below her hazel
eyes, spectacles and nose - soft well drawn lips. 

 Her frame is small and well structured. She covers it in a gown of
non-descript fabric and plain colour. The gown is split at the front, perhaps a
slit beyond the limits of decency. And yet peeking from between the split is
the black of her pants tucked into the tops of a pair of finely crafted leather
boots.

Rhuarc

No jewel decorates this one, no gold lines any part of him. He wears a heavy
green cloak of some sort of sturdy material. His legs are clad in black, his
feet encased in soft brown boots.

Though this creature seems decorated, nonetheless. His hair is a red
reminiscent of a campfire, his eyes the pale blue of a shallow lake lit by the
sun. A shirt of a silvery hue peeks out from beneath his cloak, and there is a
certain brightness to his expressions which marks him as among the merriest of
a merry folk.

His movement is most often silent, his steps so smooth and efficient, he often
seems to move from one spot to another without actually taking a step. But
then, such things will regularly excape notice, as his deep melodious voice
tends to carry far whenever he speaks, which he does rather often.


Center of Bowman Street

  To the east, the sturdy wooden deck Esgaroth is built on runs into the open
center of the business district, a magnificant tapestry of color and noise
called the Market Square. Traffic flows from the square through here, avoiding
the tall statue in the center of this street that is surrounded by a small
garden, and heading out onto the bridge. Bowman Street itself extends north and
south, flanked by the continuous length of three story buildings that comprise
the Barracks and Stables along the west of the street, and most notable
comprise Brue's famous inn the Fiery Flagon and the Town Hall along the east.


As night settles the rain pours less hard than it did all afternoon. In the
darkness, soft curses can be heard from a dark and massive shadow stomping
through the drizzle, approaching a lone candle at the Center of Bowman Street.
"Hail good Thane, it is always a pleasure to see a well known face in this city
of ruins. The rain will wash it away one day, I'm sure. Let me come over and
get my bearings!" Ardin crosses the rain and moves under the shelter of a
neighbouring house, where Jorin is standing with his candle. Ardin takes of his
cap and shakes his head. He spits and curses the rain again, the city, the
humans, the war, everything.

[Caitlin(#29321)] Light pours out onto deserted city streets as the door to the
Fiery Flago is swung open. Drawing up the hood of her cloak, Caitlin turns as
Brue calls out to her, "M'Lady the weather tis only good for beggars and
thieves". Laughing she waves her good night and walks down the few short steps.

[Rhuarc(#1478)] Many subsets of that everything which the dwarf complains about
are everywhere. But one such subset, a tall elf clad in green, softly makes his
way down Bowman street, his bare feet aiming to step into puddles as he wanders
along. He whistles cheerfully, the sound of the whistle is much like that of a
woodland bird.

[Jorin(#26648)] The din of the rain pelting the thick street and the roofs of
the houses down the street has nearly lulled Jorin, leaning back against one of
the buildings on the lane, to sleep. It appears as if he were waiting outside
for someone or something, as a candle melts away on a stool beside him. The
only sure sign that the dwarf has been active at all in the last few minutes is
the fresh tobacco burning away in the bowl of the pipe in his hand.
	Jorin peers out through the folds of his long green cloak and watches
the few people visible in the street. His attention is drawn mostly to the
calls of the dwarf Ardin and the shrill whistling of the elf that now makes his
way down the street. He says nothing as Ardin comes cursing toward him, but
takes a puff of his pipe to assure his cousin that he is quite awake despite
his appearance.

Ardin mutters under his breath as he sees the elf, "Yeah, look at this guy.
Doesn't have any boots, doesn't have any decent clothing." He shakes his head
and continues, "Everybody seems astonishingly cheerfull tonight. When I heard
about the war I thought it would take years to rebuild. But Laketown is back,
as ugly as ever, half adrowning, as ever, and everybody but us dwarves seems
happy. Can't even make a decent profit with all the regulations. Tis a shame."

Caitlin's eyes are drawn towards the sound of the whistle. Her gaze narrows in
the dim light trying to use the limited lamp light to see who approaches. 
The door to the tavern opens behind her once more. A young man emerges,
crossing towards her. Stopping they share a few words before he disappears into
the night. 
 Once more she focuses her gaze into the darkness, trying to guage the whistler
and the grumbler.

[Rhuarc(#1478)] The elf's whistling stops suddenly as he laughs brightly, and
turns toward the dwarves, and he says, "I left my boots at the embassy, dear
stunted fellow! The feel of the puddles is rather cool and refreshing to my
feet. Perhaps if you tried it, you would be less inclined to complain as you
are?" He laughs again and begins stepping in the direction of the dwarves.

[Caitlin(#29321)] With a few short steps Caitlin has brought herself fully
within the sight of those gathered for shelter. Bringing herself up short she
raises her hand in greeting, "You may wish to find a drier and safer spot to
meet sirs..."

Ardin bows and says gruffily, "Ardin, son of Koilin, son of Oibart, at your
service. Indeed, I have no inclination to undress in this miserable weather and
to jump barefeet from puddle to puddle. Maybe later this night after heavy
drinking and loosing a few bets I might be persuaded to try it, but not now."
He chuckles and asks, "Well, is there some place to dry and have a drink? I
arrived this afternoon and it seems that my innkeeper has been less successfull
in getting his business back together. No ale, no nothing except for some tea
and old bread. Bah!"

[Jorin(#26648)] The seated dwarf eyes the cheerful elf with a perturbed glare.
Though no one can see it under the large hood of his cloak, Jorin rolls his
eyes. The dwarf reaches over to where his candle rests and blows it out, a bit
angry at the way it has attracted visitors like moths to a flame. With a
grumble he shrugs off Ardin's remark and readjusts his seating. He looks grimly
up at the elf and human that now stand near to him and says with an overtone of
sarcasm, "Greetings, friends. Perhaps we all ought to find shelter by seeking a
tavern patron to pester?"

Caitlin archs a delicate brow, "The closest spot for you ale and bread would be
the tavern just up the street." She looks over the odd group, "And I do advise
taking rooms there this night sir.. things have been unsettled of late..."
Wrinkling her nose her glasses work their way back up her nose, "Simply tell
the Innkeeper that Caitlin sent you in.. he will see to your needs..."

[Rhuarc(#1478)] The elf raises one of his fierey orange brows and turns toward
the woman, "What need have we of being dry?" He laughs as he looks at the
human, "You look as if you have not enjoyed splashing about in puddles for some
time," he nods his head a moment, "If you will excuse me for guessing as much."

Ardin tries to gauge Caitlin, "Not afraid to walk home on a night like this?
Things must have improved quite a bit. You look like you expect catching a cold
to be the only danger tonight, hehe. If you listen to this mad elf here, you
might actually catch a cold, so beware. As to yourself, dear sir, perhaps you
can live on whistles and laughter alone, but a dwarf needs the warmth of a
hearth, the dry air of an inn and the strong taste of an ale."

Jorin watches the exchange of words with little concern, affording a meer
chuckle as the conversation turns to splashing in puddles. After Ardin finishes
addressing the elf Jorin pipes up, "...And a city that doesn't tarriff its only
form of business, its very neighbors!....And of course a lit pipe!"

Caitlin tugs at her hood, the rain bouncing off and rolling down the fabric, "I
will excuse you for saying as much sir." Her tone really holds no inflection as
she continues to speak, "Then for your safety I would ask that you as guest of
this city move inside." Frowning slightly she continues, looking directly at
Ardin, "With the way the King's men are taking over the patrol of this city
many are safe...others are not. And if I may be so bold as to say, three
visitors are likely targets..."

[Rhuarc(#1478)] "Not on whistles and laughter alone!" says the elf, turing with
a grin back to Ardin, "Indeed, I have forgotten the need to be grumpily pushed
aside by a frustrated dwarf," he nods to Jorin, and turns back to Caitlin,
saying, "Or being told once again that this place is dangerous to the elven
folk. Targets for what, specifically, madam?"

Caitlin tucks her hands beneath her cloak, "Theft and murder seem to be the
most popular of late sir." She sighs softly, "I am truly sorry for my brusque
manner I just simply do not wish to see our guests come in harms way."

Ardin still nods agreement to Jorin's words and mutters, "Well spoken, cousin,
for if the king continues with this sort of trade policy I shall sell my little
store in Laketown and leave the carpet business to another fool. I am not
afraid in the dark, dear madam, because I can defend myself." He leaves the
rest of his thoughts unspoken but there is a faint hint of a sarcastic smile
which gives him away.

Caitlin inclines her head with the briefest of nods to the three before her.
"So be it..." Stepping back she draws her cloak tighter about herself. "Then I
wish you all well..." Glancing over her shoulder she turns and heads off in the
direction the other human went in earlier. 

 As the rain continues on her figure is soon lost in the dim night and pelting
rains.....

[Rhuarc(#1478)] The elf laughs and nods, "I would think most thieves would know
better." He gestures towards the dwarves, "Harsh tempered warriors, and as
solid as the stone halls they live in," and towards himself he gestures,
saying, "And to pick out Rhuarc, Chieftain and Speaker of the Wood Elves,
Master of Patrols, Friend of All and Merry Fellow, as a target, one who has
hunted and helped capture members of your thieves guild?" He shakes his head
and laughs again, watching the woman go.

Jorin nods to Ardin and notes, "If the King continues with this sort of action
the town will sink under the weight of his large head." An uncomfortable
silence fills the air and he continues, "I don't need to be cautious of the
guard. They wouldn't dare harrass me, they know better." A *harumph* escapes
his lips before they close once more on the stem of his pipe.

Ardin looks up at Rhuarc with doubt and confusion crossing his face. After a
moment he reconsiders, however, as some dark thought crosses his mind again,
"Aye, friend of many titles, I don't think any victim of fiendish robbery and
brutal slaughter ever anticipated such an ending to the day. No matter now,
however. I need to dry and I need to drink! Will you come along and tell us
what business keeps you in this recently relieved and yet still oppressed town
by the Long Lake?"

Rhuarc smiles down at the dwarf. The smile almost seems to convey a sort of
seriousness, but the elf shakes his head, "It has been some hours since I have
left the company of my fellows to go wandering about these streets, so that I
might ruin the reputation of elves everywhere." He winks at the dwarf, and his
smile broadens a bit, and nods his head southward, "Though should you desire
it, you can call on me at the elven embassy down the street."

Ardin bows and says with a grin, "Ah well, so be it then. I hope that your many
titles will indeed protect you in the dark, oh Merry Fellow. Let there always
be a puddle in your way."

Ardin grins and waves as the elf disappears in the dark and turns back to
Jorin, "Will you continue out here in the cold and the rain? Come along? No?
Whatever suits you best, Thane Bundanazul." He bows and leaves as well cursing
the rain again as he tries to find the inn the young woman mentioned some time
ago.