#orcristwielder

“I agree, though... I suppose it largely depends upon the collective.” The Ekon was quick to interject, never really finding himself in one or another. Even when he’d first been reborn as the creature he was now, it had seemed as though everyone had been against him, humans, Skals, Vulkods, fellow Ekons, the world itself -- - so where that did place him? What people did he belong to? Anyone? Or was it more than that? He walked between factions to keep people safe, regardless of who they were, how much they carried in their wallets or the tales that followed their every step.

“I gather you have your own stories to tell, as well as many about you, I imagine.” Maybe he was pushing his luck, but was there ever an end to Jonathan’s curiosity? So far, it didn’t seem so. “Tell me about yourself.” He began, still carefully pushing as he sought a clump of stone to perch himself on, keen on settling on a more -- - equal level, rather than towering over the other man. “You seem so... sad, Sir, so guarded. It lends me to believe that something has happened, something or... someone, was taken away from you. You lost something... what would that be? If... you don’t mind my asking.”

The fight had been sudden, and as quickly as it happened it ended. Eilonwy helped Thorin to his feet carefully, mentally assessing for any major injuries. She was a pretty young woman, auburn hair with bright blue eyes and freckles that peppered across her nose. She had sheathed the sword back into its holder, though it was strange for a woman to be alone, to fight alone.

The notorious Smaug had struck again. This time in the Tower of London, taking the Crown Jewels themselves. How the man had swooped in almost entirely unnoticed was a question in itself. The only reason anyone had known the thievery was happening was because of some poor sod just doing his job, had caught Smaug while he was making his way out. Needless to say, it did not end well for the guard and the gunshot drew the attention of many.

Before anyone came to the scene, however, Smaug was long gone, as were the jewels, and his signature red dragon calling card was left on the victim.

Bilbo could already feel the migraine kicking in from a lack of sleep. He had been woken up just after the incident had happened, called into headquarters to be debriefed on the situation. Gandalf seemed insistent that he hurry, and the moment he heard the tone of voice from his superior, he knew it was quite serious. Of course, details could not be discussed over the phone. It was an insecure line.

Although a little reluctant, Bilbo crawled himself out of bed and got dressed. As much as he would have preferred to shower before going in, there simply was no time for that. He was groggy and clutching his traveler of fresh tea a little tightly as he headed out the door.

It was concerning how frantic everyone was when he arrived at HQ. He could not remember when this place had been so lively. He observed people running about, barking orders and trying to still hold their composure. Bilbo sipped his tea as he walked, heading for the far room at the end of the hall where he knew Gandalf would be waiting for him.

“What is it this time?” Bilbo asked, “A spy break his cover? Did one of the Royals slip in the show? Why can’t the emergencies occur during the day?” His tone was jokingly sarcastic, though the look he got from Gandalf spoke volumes. Bilbo took a sip of his tea to bite back anymore comments he wanted to make. “Worse, I’m afraid, Mr. Baggins,” Gandalf spoke up, sliding a document across the table. Bilbo looked down at the file and saw the name. Without another moment of hesitation, he opened the document and started to sift through the files. 

“How did he get in?” Bilbo asked, “How did no one see him?!” “That is a question we are currently trying to answer ourselves,” Gandalf sighed, “But, we do know he was seen heading on a flight destined to America. Where he is going from there, we are unsure. We don’t even know where he is landing...” Bilbo looked puzzled as he stared at the files, placing a hand under his chin as he stared at the blurred image from a security camera of Smaug. He was trying to think of all the places one could go with the Crown Jewels. Did he take them with him to America? Did he hand them off before fleeing? And why America?

“So we will have to seek aid from the American’s -- have we already been in contact with a branch of national security?” Bilbo asked, finally looking back at Gandalf again. “Actually...” Gandalf’s look almost fell playful, “I have already been in contact with someone. He was here in London on some...family business.” “And who might that be?” Bilbo asked, waiting to hear a familiar name he had heard of. 

They had several American’s that they dealt with on a daily or weekly basis, so he was no stranger to the usual suspects. “Thorin Durin,” Gandalf said the name with ease and Bilbo’s brows knitted up with confusion. He could not recall hearing that name before, his list of usual suspects hitting a dead stop.

“And who might that be?” he asked, a little annoyed now that Gandalf looked so amused. As if he had one over the man or something. “Well, he did enter the room just behind you a few moment ago,” Gandalf commented, watching as Bilbo turned to gaze at the one who would be a stranger to him, “Thorin Durin, this is Bilbo Baggins. I’d suggest you two become quite comfortable around each other as you will be working quite closely together.”

Bilbo was trying to piece together who this man was and why it was him. Gandalf did not just pick people based on skill alone, so there had to be something unique about Mr. Durin.

Where were his manners?

She'd been gone for almost eight years now, originally promising Thorin she'd return after helping with a growing problem of Orcs in the North, promising she'd not go abandoning her friend and King less than two years into his rule.

But much had happened up North, one problem led to several more and before she knew it Viola was caught in what could only be described as Orc-poltiics and superstitions gone mad.

Once things were settled down enough she'd written a letter to Thorin apologising for her disappearance and promising to explain everything if he would come meet her at Ravenhill. She only hoped he'd recognise her now she was grown.

The hobbit doesn’t know if she’s ever witness anything like the rowdiness of dwarves before. Not even when old Mister Hardfoot had too many ales down at the Green Dragon on the last day of harvest season. Though contrary to poor Bilbo, who looks like he might either pop the vein in his forehead or beat one of the unexpected guests with the one block of cheese they hadn’t devoured yet, Mary finds them to be quite jolly. She’s hiding a grin behind her hands as they find a way to clean up after themselves while still riling up their unwitting host.

However, the atmosphere changes suddenly when there is another knock at Bilbo’s front door. And as curious as she is, she stays behind everyone else when they all move to greet the last addition of the night.

Of course, that doesn’t last long. As the table is once again filled, Mary steps closer with her fellow hobbit, peering at the map laid out over the shoulder of the apparent leader of the group. The Lonely Mountain... Delicate hands grip at her skirt as it all clicks. She’s read tales aplenty of the Erebor in its glory and of the dwarves who lost their homeland in a terrible attack by a dragon called Smaug...

Hazel eyes are wide as she looks from the map to catch the eye of the wizard in the corner, letting out a soft breath of disbelief when he quirks a brow and gives an almost imperceptible smile. Her gaze dances across all the faces sitting around the table before landing back at the head of the table. 

“I volunteer to aid in your quest.”

Lark followed the beaten path laden with soft grasses. She never had traveled to the Shire before and while she was doing so under the direct order of Elrond--to deliver a message to Gandalf--she would take her time to enjoy the scenery. 

With the Shire in the distance; Lark quickened her footsteps. The quicker she could deliver the message, the quicker she could explore these new people. She had heard of Hobbits from others--or read about them in books, but it would be her first time seeing one. 

however, what she did not expect when she turned down the path that would lead her to her destination was a gruff looking dwarf. 

She schooled her features into neutrality as she approached the man. 

“ Well met, stranger.” she greeted, though she did keep ample distance between them as she moved to walk past. 

Lark had spent a great deal of time among the men of Gondor, and have come to know the human settlements in the region; but never would she figure a dwarf would make his way to the Shire. The first thought that came to her mind was wondering what Gandalf was truly up to. 

“You look lost. Are you truly heading for the Shire?” she tried her best to hide any note of suspicion in her tone. Still, the curiosity got the better of her. 

@orcristwielder​ liked for a tolkien starter