fast. Then we discuss our plans for which route we take.”
He took a rabbit and started to skin it.
The sun was still low in the air when the company set
forth. The travelers set off in single file out of Dol Githor.
Kilo in lead. Fildor and Baildor next and then Corin and
Dardor. Everything they had, they carried. Corin was looking at the jagged mountains above and wondered how
high they were. The wind lessened. There were still miles
to travel before they reach Darrowdale. Kilo would take
his map out once in a while to check where they were.
Fildor would look around the area and feel for his bow.
Corin thought he didn’t trust this place. They traveled for
awhile until Kilo turned around and said: “Dol Mikor will
be in front of us in no time. We must get on before we
encounter snow.”
Baildor muttered under his breath. Dardor had
the most baggage and was stooping over and gasping for
air. Corin himself was tired and his eyes were wetting
form the wind chill that would occur here and there. His
leather boots were old and falling apart. Fildor was beginning to weary. But Kilo was undeterred; his eyes looked
though the mountain air and contain wisdom and old
memories.
Snow started to fall and the travelers still kept going at
a slow speed. The sound of the mail shaking and feet
trudging was all Corin heard.
“Should have gotten ponies or some baggage animal,” Dardor grumbled.
“Should have gotten dwarves that didn’t grumble,” Kilo replied. He was also tired and longed to see a
fire. The snow amount increased. The sun was blocked
off, by clouds.
Then Kilo stopped before an intersection of paths
and said to all of the company:
“We have reached Dol Mikor. We will make camp here.
Corin and Fildor help Dardor with the baggage. Baildor,
come with me to find a hollow where we might camp.”
The two dwarfs went off. Dardor, after his burden
was taken down sat on a stone. Then Baildor signaled
them and Corin, Dardor, and Fildor came to the hollow.
The hollow was actually a cave, some 7 feet high
and a length of 9 feet. Very cozy and the snow didn’t
come into it. Fildor took out the sleeping mats while
Dardor made the fire with what wood they had that came
from Dol Githor. Kilo took out the food supply they had.
Bacon stripes, leftover rabbit and deer, biscuits, a couple
of flasks of beer and wine, cheese from Bräthin, and pipe
leaf from Drahad. Soon the smell of meat filled the cave.
And after the meal (which was not really messy, they had
wooden plates that were made to last) everyone but
Corin and Baildor (Baildor wasn’t a smoker and Corin was
of course too young) took their pipes out and started to
smoke. Corin was still chewing on his biscuit and had his
flask wine in hand. The snow was still falling and the wind
howling outside. This made the company cozy and at rest.
The fire was still going and it made the entire cave warm
and toasty. The smoke rings of the pipes would reach to
the top of the ceiling and disappear.
Fildor smoked for a while, took his pipe out and
asked, “What’s our next move?” Kilo resting against his
mat just looked in the fire unaware of Fildor’s question.
“He’s wandering in his ѡ