Rukum nur, emz nur. >> The wind blew on that autumn morning in Erebor, hiding the weak light of the sun with a massive shadow threatening the palace. Soon, the scream of the young prince and the mention of a dragon froze the dwarves’ blood. Chaos crashed on the kingdom, losses of lives destroyed the dwarves, finding themselves homeless, wandering in Middle Earth. Only one hope could keep them alive, one young prince leading them. One young prince fascinating that little dwarrow following on his steps, sometimes calling herself “emz nur”. They never forgave, they never forgot.


















