OOC: http://www.iwakuroleplay.com/showthread.php?t=9558 A cold wind was blowing through middle-earth, it could be felt from the Shire all the way to Mordor. It was the type of cold that made one want to stay in-doors, where it could not penetrate you, the type of wind that made you want to stay in your room, hobbit hole, or caverns, craving nice mug of ale and fall to sleep. Some would say it was the kind of weather which preceded a storm, though there was something eerie about this wind, and no-one, not Elves, nor Wizards could tell what was coming, if anything. This particular wind was so ferocious it whipped the salty sea against the cliffs of Umbar, and ripped the mightiest of trees from their roots outside of Rivendell, and wherever else trees might lay their roots down, disturbing even the oldest of the Treebeards who had long ago fallen into a dormant state of sleep, ignoring the events which unfolded around them, but this wind, rustled through their leaves, waking them. Something was definitely coming. ________________________________ Moria (Misty Mountains) "Argh! Another mug of ale for me" Cried a rather short (In their standards anyway) Dwarf, pointing towards another of his kind, known as Y'aalin, as he smashed his empty mug against the table of the inn, froth protruding from his mouth as he did so. Quickly, the bartender hurried over to take his mug and re-fill it, worried for not what the Dwarf would do after he had drunk it and become intoxicated, but worried for what he would do if he did not. This what not your average inn either, for it was a Dwarven inn, inside of the great Misty Mountains, which housed the oldest Dwarved kindred, the longbeards. Now, one may be asking why you would need an inn their, surely they all lived in their houses, or well, caves? Definitely not! For Moria is no Man city or town, it is a maze of tunnels and great caverns, filled with marvellous architecture, one could easily get lost within it's depths if they where not to careful, for it is a world, inside of a world. Dagnus was sitting in the corner of this particular in, drinking ale himself, rubbing his beard and pondering many mysteries when something extremely off happened, a Dwarf Noble pushed open they great doors, and bustled his way inside, looking around. Now this might not sound too strange, but Nobles where not often found in these parts, in fact, never. The politicians of Moria tended to stay in the upper levels since the reconstruction of the caverns and tunnels, probably in-case the miners dug into another Balrog cavern, which had happened before and killed Durin the VI. Dagnus eyed the Noble suspiciously, who continued to look around until he spotted him, and stared deeply into Dagnus' eyes as he slowly approached. As he grew closer, he pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket, and unravelled it, reading: "Dagnus Rugged-Shield, on important matters you have been summoned by the king directly, and the council of elder, who wish to speak to you rather promptly." Completely oblivious to the fact that a fight had broken out behind him, and various obscenities where being thrown around in a language only the Dwarves understood. Dagnus simply made a 'Hmph' sound, before enquiring "And how d'yeh know that I is him?" to which the noble did not reply, he simply scuttled off, out of the door. Sighing heavily as he did so, Dagnus struggled up from his seat, finishing his drink as he did so, pulled up his axe from where he had rest it, and headed outside, following the Noble who led him through a series of well decorated caves, up endless stairs, it was when Dagnus was out of breath did the Noble finally stop, nodding ahead to the cavern where the great council of Elders held their meetings. Grumbling to himself as swung open the double doors. "What the hell d'these want with me?"