It is the fourth age. Dwarves are strong again and men flourish. Only elves are those who still whither in the havens.

Dain of the lonely mountain has grown his people strong. They have again learned to forge great armor and weapons. The thought of retaking Khazad-dum their ancient home has grown whit the people. The lords of men have given no thought to the ancient halls. They were reminded of their existance by a old man who came from the west.

He was riding long. He had already been nearly everywhere. This moment had been planned for too long. He rode to the white city of men and did the job that was given to him by the king under the mountain.
When the next morning came many oddlooking posters were seen all around the lower circles of the city. They were as this:

The great king of dwarves asks for all bold and hardy adventurers to come to the mountain. A great adventure awaits them. If the deed is succesfull they shall be awarded whit a kings heap of gold!

And in the very bottom of the poster read as such:

This invitation call especially dwarves. For it concerns them closely. All are welcome tho.


These odd posters were everywhere. The odd old man had taken them to every city that he knew. And he knew many.
Now that hes deed was done he set out for the mountain.


Meanwhile a host of dwarves came from the blue mountains to the lonely mountain all equipped for war. It was time for great deeds once again.

I'm in!

Rokey, a disgrace to the Dwarven ranks, read the flier with relish and doubt. One voice in his mind said," This is it, if you retake Moria, Khazad-Dum itself, no one will ever mock your bumbling in the forge again! Let's see them laugh when a hero hits his thumb over the anvil..."
Another voice, however, was less hopeful, "It's only wishful thinking Rokey, this kind of thing just isn't a job for you. You had better face it, you're hopeless. Everyone is kind enough to you most of the time just because you're Bokey's son, and he made the throne for the King Under the Mountain. You should send word to your brother about it, he was the one that rescued that Gondorian prince from those trolls. Besides, this is going to be extremely dangerous. They finally banished you from the forge two months ago to prevent you from hurting yourself anymore, the best thing to do is just stay in the kitchen where it's nice and safe..." Whatever came after that was drowned out by the sound of Rokey running home down the crowded subterranean hall to pack his things.
"This is it," thought Rokey, standing up twice as tall as he usually did. He was walking quickly up the corridor now, towards the enormous hall where the Iron Hills Dwarves dined as a community every morning for breakfast. He passed the door to this hall and entered the one beyond it. As he turned the corner he muttered "Just don't look at it!" unassuringly in Dwarvish.
The room was a kitchen. Rokey had been sent there, he felt he had been banished, for his own good after he narrowly avoided being burned to death in the forge. He had been leaning to close to some bits of metal he was working on, it was his first major commission. Anxious to do well, Rokey broke his longest string of accident free days ever when he reached out an arm to support himself while patiently waiting for his fetal door-knobs to reach the right temperature. His hand landed right on the forge-bellows and his face was engulfed in flame. Panicking, Rokey dashed across the forge, screaming and slapping at his fiery face. His perfect brother was the one who saved him. Everyone else was too shocked to do anything, although they were all truly concerned for Rokey, who was not a bad dwarf, just annoying and clumsy. Tackling him to the ground, Rokey's brother shoved his massive, gloved hands into Rokey's face. Rokey was almost too embarassed to get up. The other Dwarves were crowded about. Finally, Rokey managed to stand up by forcing himself to hope that no one had noticed. His eyes were sealed shut, but he knew his brother had saved him beacuse he recognized his voice.
" Are you alright Roke?" his brother had asked with genuine concern. As soon as Rokey, eyes still shut tight, nodded affirmatively, everyone burst into loud laughter. Rokey opened his eyes and saw nothing but the door as he walked out silently. The only thing that could have been worse was if he had cried, which he had been too ashamed and embarassed to think to do. He entered breakfast the next day to a dozen re-enactments of his accident and a roar of laughter.
"I'm leaving," said Rokey timidly to the lady-dwarf that ran the kitchen he worked in.
"They've let you back to the forge!" she said cheerfully, she had been the only person kind enough to give Rokey a job.
" N-no..." began Rokey, fingering the edge of his newly re-grown beard," I-I have to go west!"
"Blue Hills?" she asked.
Rokey was looking desperately for something to say that didn't have the name "Khazad-Dum" in it. He opened his mouth...
"I have cousins in the Blue Hills," she stated as she turned back to some eggs she was frying. Rokey was so relieved that she hadn't waited for an answer that he forgot not to look up from his boots, which his eyes had been fixed on the entire conversation. He saw it. There in the corner to his right was the trash despository, piled high with broken dishes that had last been whole in his hands. He felt sick.
Yelling "Good-bye!" to the female dwarf over his shoulder, Rokey pretended not to hear her inquireries as to the length of his absence as he headed for the exit of the mine.

hail floin and master dwarf your kin came to our peoples aid when we needed help and i come from gray havens to answer the call to arms from my kin and offer you this token as proof of our renewd friendship" corgon said and handed the dwarf nearest him a beautifull elvish made mythrill double bladed battel walking ax. with a deep bow. " I awate orders with a request that i have three dwarvs uncer my comand with there consent of corse." he said to floiwn

OOC: haha, very funny. Sure, I can take over for a little bit.

People have been coming for days now to the city of Dale, below the Mountain. Many were still arriving. The promise of gold had attracted the largest number, others were there looking for fame from the deeds of arms, some, seeking adventure. But there were few, so few there, who could be of real service in this mission, those who knew the mountains, and the goblins, who had fought them before and knew how they fight. These are the ones who stood out, by their very actions and conversation. If only there were more...


Fionwë arrived after days of travel, to Carrock. He had a long way to go, but he was close. Every place that he stopped by, which could help, he left messages and gained promises of assistance when he should return. He was known to a large number of people, and had rendered much service to people around these parts...

"Troubled? Why, I'm gleeful! There is nothing to be troubled about, yet. But it is good to see you again friend," he replied.

Aw c'mon play along turin!!
this is making my money run out quick hehe this netcafe is seriously expensive!!
Over 15 euros for an hour!
thievery! thievery!


Before fionwe sat down a young dwarf rushed to him. He was a messenger sent by arath.

"here you are sir!" said the boy handing fionwe a message.

I regret to say that i can not join you yet.
I have spoken to the dwarf king and he has given
you a regiment of dwarves to lead.
you have nearly a weeks time before the king expects you
to head south.
meanwhile you may do what you please.
arath


the dwarf saw corgon sitting near him and he give a cry.
"oh!" he said.
"there is a message for you also!" he said handing a letter.


A regiment of the men of dale await your command!
i will join you later.
you have a week before you are to march whit fionwes force to the south.

both messages had a similar par at their end:
ps. i do remember our little adventure!
but now you are commanders!
no longer must you choose only your own path
but the path of your army also!
if you so choose!
you may if you wish go on your own to scout ahead.


after handing the messages the dwarf ran off.

Riding in the back of a wagon nloaded with pipe-weed barrels, rokey looked about the scenery west of the Misty Mountains. He had been fortunate enough to be offered a ride on this wagon by the dwarf who drove it. Indeed, he had been more fortunate to be pulled out of the bog by the said driver before being given the lift to the Lonely Mountain. With even more unusually good luck, it had turned out that the wagon driver was a veteran trans-mountain traveler and possessed loads of advice, stories, observations, and witty jokes to the green Rokey. Much of what he said dealt with his substantial experience with goblins and trolls. He even hinted that he might teach Rokey how to handle arms. Apparently, the aging Dwarf was accustomed to traveling alone and was exceedingly hapy to have a companion; even one who occasionally dozed off and tumbled from his seat.

OOC: You guys can call my character Aethar though his full name is Aethar Elendil (u guys should recognize the last part, and i didn't give myself this name, a name generator did)

Aethar was just walking in a back street in Bree when he found a rather strange paper laying on the ground calling for adventurers to help retake Khazad-dum. He quickly used a piece of charcoal to write a quick message to the dwarven king:

King Dain
Your summons is answered, Aethar Elendil shall come.
I need no reward in the fashion of wealth but assistance in an endeavor of mine.
I ride for Erebor, upon arrival I shall inform you of the endeavor which I require assistance in.
Aethar Elendil
Ranger

P.S. Reward the bird, probably something shiny will do.

Aethar called a raven from the roof of a nearby building, asking it to carry this message to Erebor, with promise of ample reward upon his arrival and delivery to King Dain. As the bird flew into the air, Aethar withdrew from Bree and melted into the shadows...

Arath was late. He had been terribly delayed by the orcs and goblins of moria. He had ventured further than he had originally wished to go. his journey was not invain though. He had learned much.
Upon coming to out of moria the snows suprised him and had to dig his way out.
Riding or walking was impossible.
So arath took again the dark shaggy wings given to him by a very nice fairy and flew towards the lonely mountain.