Eruwen (Part 1 & 2)

The Lake Town

The dwarves were not happy about having to travel in barrels of fish. I didn't blame them, but they could have been a little more grateful. 

"I'll go talk to the mayor," I said.

"Why?" the Bard wondered.

"It won't be suspicious," I explained.

I helped the dwarves out of trouble when the guards noticed them. They stunned a few of them, and when another group showed up, I showed up and made it perfectly official and got a tour of the city.

"I'd like to see how the city is prospering and such essentials," I explained, "shall we?"

I toured the city with a military escort before being led to the mayor, who had already been informed by Alfrid of my arrival.

"Surely the guards have shown you our picturesque city?" he wondered.

"Yes, they have," I replied.

The dwarves, meanwhile, had made their way safely to the Bard's house.

"What brings you to our town, anyway?"

"I'm interested in how the town is doing, how you do business, and how you invest. Your guards have already explained a lot to me."

I hoped the dwarves wouldn't bring anything up, especially at night. The mayor had prepared a room for me and it would be suspicious if I if I didn't use it.

Unfortunately, the dwarves did something after dark - they decided to break into the town armory and gave themselves away because of the noise. 

The guards captured them and led them to the mayor.

"What's the meaning of this?" the mayor asked angrily.

"We caught them stealing guns, sir," replied one of the guards.

"Ah, enemies of the state, eh?"

"Poor handful of mercenaries nothing more, sir," said Alfrid.

"Watch your language," Dwalin began, "You have no idea who you're talking to... This is no criminal, this is Thorin. Son of Thrain, son of Thror."

"We are dwarves of Erebor..." Thorin said.

I stood on the balcony and looked down at them.

"... We have come to reclaim our homeland," Thorin continued, "I remember this city in the good old days. Whole fleets of ships full of silk and gems were moored in the harbor. A desolate city on a lake, this used to be the center of all trade in the north... I want those times to return. I want us to rebuild our foundries and the wealth of the dwarves to flow from the halls of Erebor."

His words worked on the townsfolk.

"Death, you will bring death upon us," the Bard spoke, pushing his way through the crowd, "Dragonfire and destruction. If you raise that beast, it will destroy us all."

"You can listen to the doubter, but I promise you this. If we succeed, everyone will share in the wealth of the mountain. You will have enough gold to rebuild the city of Esgaroth and ten times more," Thorin was already shouting the last words and the people were cheering.

"All of you, listen to me," the Bard took the floor, "Listen to me. Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten how many people died in the flames? And for what? Because of the blindness of the king under the mountain, so controlled by greed that he could see nothing else."

Thorin had planned to do something to him, but their argument was interrupted by the mayor.

"Wait, wait," he began, "we mustn't, any of us mustn't make rash accusations. Let's not forget that it was Girion, the Lord of the Dale, your ancestor," he pointed to the Bard, "who was supposed to have killed the beast, eh?"

"That's right, sir," began Alfrid, "we know how it was. He shot arrow after arrow and missed the target every time."

That convinced the townspeople. The vision of wealth was stronger than the vision of death.

"I speak to the mayor of the lake people," Thorin spoke up, "Do you want the prophecy to come true? Do you want a share in the immense wealth of our people?"

The mayor wondered what he would answer.

"What will you answer?" The dwarf asked.

"My answer is," the mayor began.